My grandfather had a small farm where he raised beef and some grain for feed. He also worked diligently as a factory laborer and country pastor. He was a good neighbor and well-respected for honoring his word. When harvest time came, he'd piece together his old one-row corn picker and oil it up for the season. All his life he worked hard, helped others, and you could count on him to keep his promises. He had promised to harvest a few ribbons of corn on a friend's farm, but after harvesting his own corn, Grandpa's little corn picker coughed and quit. It would be out of commission until a particular part could be ordered, but that would take far too long to help this year. The factory where Grandpa worked began to require overtime. In order to keep his job there he had to leave the farm before dawn and get home until well after sunset.  One autumn night, while harvest time was running out, he and his wife sat at the kitchen table and trying to figure a way out of their dilemma. "There's nothing you can do," said my grandma. "You'll just have to tell him that you can't help with the corn this year." "Well that just doesn't sit well with me," said my grandpa. "My friend is depending on me. I can't exactly let my neighbor's harvest rot in the field, can I?" "When do you think you'd have time to do it?" she asked. "With the overtime you've been working you'd be up all night." "I know of one night that I could do it!" he said, running to the bookshelf. He grabbed the Farmer's Almanac  and started flipping through the pages. "Aha! There's still one more full moon in October." They say it's called the harvest moon because it gives farmers more light and more time to collect their crops. And so a few days later, after a long shift at the factory, my grandpa made his way to the field where my grandma met him in the truck with dinner. The weather was cold but clear, and the moon was brilliant. He worked through the night to keep his word. I know this story well, so sometimes, when I'm tempted to cut corners  or to put off responsibilities, I think of my grandfather with his scythe  cutting wide arcs of corn in the light of the harvest moon. Which was the main trouble my grandfather had in helping his friend?
His wife objected to his helping his friend. His corn picker ran out of oil. His corn picker broke down. The weather was not favorable.