“Who is my neighbor?” someone once asked. Twenty years ago several people stepped up to be good neighbors to us. The first, unknown to us, took time early on a busy day to be neighbor as he went to a nearby house and reported a fire. And those neighbors, stalwart farm folk, called for help. Good neighbors from our volunteer fire company came and put out the fire.

Our farm neighbors stood by caring, emptied a freezer and carried away the food for safe keeping and then did the really hard thing to gently, kindly, call us home from vacation. In the months that followed, we counted on their support and presence.

The stuff of life and the fun of shared birthdays knit neighbors into friends.

Time passes and seasons change and a For Sale sign hangs across the road at the old farm. I miss my neighbors. I hope you have good neighbors and treasure them.