Baler and Neighbors

As of yesterday, we are owners of a new baler! 

This is what a baler looks like.  It is hitched to the back of a tractor.
Balers gather loose hay on one end, tightly roll it up, tie it or wrap it, and pop out a full-size bale.

CORRECTION: We own one-third of this baler!

We own one-third of this new baler because we purchased it with two other parties-- my in-laws, and another close neighboring family. 

One of the things I love most about living here is the strong sense of community.  Though our neighborhood is very spread out, it feels smaller and more connected than even the biggest, most populated cities in which I have lived. 

Our family is particularly lucky because of the very close relationship we have with one of the other families who lives just a few miles down the road.  My husband and his family have been living and working together with this neighboring family for his entire life, and I imagine, many years prior (Perhaps I should ask someone how long this partnership has gone on!)  The two families work back and forth on farm work on a daily basis, and often share meals and fellowship when the work day is done.  I am not sure how common such a close partnership between to families is out here, but nevertheless, it is priceless. 

Last night we witnessed another example of neighborly interaction.  

My husband hauled the new baler out to the field where he would be working the next morning (today). I was to give him about a 15 minute head start, and then drive out to the field and pick him up.  I waited the appropriate length of time and then drove to where I thought he would be... and didn't see him anywhere!  You would think a bright red tractor pulling a bright green brand new shiny baler would be easy to spot, but my husband had turned off the vehicles (and their lights) and in the twilight, I just didn't see him!  I thought, "Maybe I misunderstood and he is at a different field..." So, I drove to the next place I thought he might have been... and he wasn't there either! I drove home, called my father-in-law, and, feeling embarassed, explained that I couldn't find my husband. After hearing the explanation of where he should be (which was in the first place I drove to-- just further down the road than I thought and kind of over a hill, out of sight), I headed out down the road again.  By now, over 30 minutes had elapsed.  

I had only gone about a mile when another vehicle coming towards me stopped and out pops my husband! Luckily, a neighbor living down the road from where he parked the baler happened to be driving by, and stopped and picked him up. They drove several miles out of their way to bring him towards home.  Though I felt incredibly foolish at missing the pick-up spot on my own, I couldn't help feeling a sense of gladness that these people would do something so nice.  

Actions like this seem to be a way of life in this new place I am living.  It may not seem like much, but to me it is exemplary of neighbors helping neighbors.  I can't help but think that in a bigger city or town, this may not have happened.  People help each other out in good times and in bad. Here, being a neighbor is a verb, not just an adjective describing someone who lives in close proximity.