Grateful for our Town

Yesterday afternoon, I was driving my truck through Alfred with a cab full of kids, and the rain was coming down hard. The kind of rain that soaks you just stepping out for a second. We were headed home after a long day, everyone muddy, tired, and a little wound up.

As we passed through town, I noticed the car in front of me suddenly pull over with its hazards on. I slowed down, unsure of what was happening. Then I saw her — an elderly woman had fallen while getting into her car. Another woman was already trying to help, but she needed another set of hands. Without missing a beat, the man who had pulled over jumped out of his car and ran straight into the storm. Together, they gently helped the woman to her feet.

The kids quieted down and watched from the back seat. We prayed together — for the woman who had fallen, and for the man who stopped without hesitation. It was just a quiet moment, but it reminded me why I’m so grateful for this town.

Alfred is the kind of place where people still stop. Where strangers help one another in the middle of a storm. Where prayers are whispered from pickup trucks, and kindness shows up in the everyday.

This isn’t the first time I’ve seen something like that here. I could tell you about neighbors who show up with food when someone’s sick, or folks who lend a hand fixing fences or moving hay. People in this town care, and not just in words — they show it in action.

Running our farm and raising our family here has made me even more aware of how special that is. You all have supported our milk, our meat, our events, and our vision — but even more than that, you’ve shown up for us. You've asked how we're doing, offered help, shared your stories, and made this work feel less like a business and more like a community effort.

I’m writing this simply to say thank you. Thank you to our Alfred neighbors who make this town feel like home. Thank you to the man who pulled over in the rain. Thank you to the families who pray with us, who grow with us, and who keep choosing to care.

On the road, in the storm, and in every quiet act of love — I see you, and I’m grateful.