“The world feels divided and heavy at times… But there is also unity and light in the ways rural people show up for each other.”
Political divides. Trade wars. Low commodity prices and high input costs. Increasing concern for the mental health of our farmers as economic times get tougher.
When I was pondering ideas for this month’s Country Corner, there were plenty of big topics floating around. Weighty, dark, troublesome topics. 
Then I spent a beautiful October afternoon witnessing the very best of humanity.
After a combine fire left a mid-Missouri farmer badly burned and unable to finish his harvest, family, friends and neighbors stepped in to help. They didn’t do it for publicity, so I’m not naming names. They did it because the injured farmer would be the first to do it for one of them if needed—heaven forbid—and had even done so in the past.
On this day, six combines in a multitude of colors churned through soybeans while tractors pulling grain carts transported the harvest to a steady stream of semis headed for a nearby elevator, which offered to store the grain with free delayed pricing terms. In total, the volunteers harvested more than 800 acres over two days.
As the last of his soybean crop disappeared into the machines, the farmer watched from the safety of a pickup cab—staying clear of the dust that could set back his recovery but itching to be in the action.
“The world feels divided and heavy at times… But there is also unity and light in the ways rural people show up for each other.”
“This is really humbling. I’ve had to swallow a lot of pride,” he told me, emotions running close to the surface. “But it’s a beautiful thing to see in this day and age where there’s so much ‘me, me, me.’ This is the only industry that does this. Agriculture takes care of itself.”
We see the same thing happening all the time. Farmers helping farmers. Whether it’s a friend lending a hand to work cattle, a neighbor helping to fix broken machinery or a community rallying around a family in grief, agriculture often shows its best when times are the hardest.
I was reminded of that again while working on this issue’s story on Shelby County Cares (page 10). The Foreman family endured more heartache than any should, but chose to turn pain into purpose. Instead of retreating, they stepped forward. Instead of staying silent, they started conversations. As a result, other farmers are finding hope, connection and resources they may never have reached for alone.
There’s something profoundly moving about that kind of generosity. It’s not loud or self-congratulatory. It’s steady. It’s real. And it’s rooted in the same spirit that drives neighbors to fire up six combines to finish someone else’s harvest. These acts—large and small—remind us what community truly means.
As we move into the holiday season, let’s hold on to that. Yes, the challenges facing agriculture are very real. Yes, the world feels divided and heavy at times. But there is also unity and light in the ways rural people show up for each other.
Maybe that’s the lesson to carry into 2026: that even in our toughest moments, we don’t have to shoulder the weight alone.