What’s so special about a $1,000 gift?

In 2006 I zig-zagged the continent, racking up 15,000 honest miles in a little Ford Escape Hybrid that wheezed like a kettle but kept the faith. Hundreds of small towns blurred past the windshield, each one carrying the same hard-scrabble tune: boarded storefronts, auctioned farms, hope stretched thin as baler twine. I’ve gone back since—one-week, two-week rambles—and the chorus hasn’t changed much. Out there, a clean thousand bucks can still tip the scale for a family riding the edge. Take this very real hypothetical for example:

Ben Davidson. Farmer, son of a farmer, grandson of the same stubborn stock. Dawn to dusk he talks to the soil, prays for rain, curses drought, then starts over. Simple pleasures; harsh arithmetic. Every dollar earns blisters.

One morning an envelope lands on his porch—official, unexpected, crisp. A check for $1,000. Ben balks, turns it over, holds it to the light. Evening settles; ideas sprout like spring beans. That tired tractor—clunky, coughing—needs a rebuilt engine. He’s been saving for years, a dollar here, seventy-five cents there. This windfall pushes him over the top. New heart for the old beast. Fields breathe easier, and so does Ben.

In America only 46.1 percent of farmers clear a positive income from the dirt; the rest—53.9 percent—scrape below poverty lines, moonlighting off-farm to keep the lights on.

The ripples travel fast. In America only 46.1 percent of farmers clear a positive income from the dirt; the rest—53.9 percent—scrape below poverty lines, moonlighting off-farm to keep the lights on. With reliable horsepower Ben quits his second job. He plows straighter, plants tighter, harvests heavier. Extra yield patches the barn roof, upgrades feed, salts away a few bucks for tomorrow.

And the change doesn’t stop at his fence line. Spare time and steadier nerves pull Ben into town: teaching soil science at the grade school, arguing road repairs on the council, showing up because he finally can. Prosperity hires a neighbor who’s been hurting for work, and that paycheck spins through the café, the hardware store, the church potluck—binding folks together the way twine binds hay.

All from one modest check. A thousand dollars, no more, no less. It stiffens a man’s spine, steadies a farm, sparks a chain the length of Main Street. In the hushed Midwest—big sky, bigger silences—such small mercies ring loud. They prove what we keep forgetting: a little can go a mighty long way when it lands in the right hands at the right time.

Join us in driving 'The Hope and Generosity Tour' across the nation. Your support fuels our journey, empowers community heroes, and weaves a story of hope and generosity that spans across America's small towns. 

Please donate today. Also, share our campaign with your friends and family, and follow Josie's journey as we embark on this unforgettable adventure!

 You can donate now by following this link: https://www.gofundme.com/f/support-the-hope-generosity-tour-across-america