I took this award-winning photo in 2012 at an International Festival in Faribault. To this day, it remains one of my favorite images reflecting diversity in my community. The gathered kids cared not about ethnicity, but only about breaking open a pinata. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo 2012)
AS THE NEW YEAR begins, I enter it with a whole lot of trepidation, uncertainty and concern. Feeling optimistic right now does not come easily. I fear for our country. I fear for my community. I fear for my Latino and Somali neighbors, targeted by the federal government. Yes, ICE agents are visible and active in Faribault. Though I have not seen them myself, this information comes from reliable sources.
I fear that we are becoming desensitized to the ICE snatchings. I fear we are becoming desensitized to the lies, the rhetoric, the hatred, the awfulness spewing from, well, way too many leaders and even everyday people.
A pin gifted to me by a friend this past summer. I now have it pinned to a small bag that holds my cellphone, my way of getting a message out there. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)
What happened to common decency and goodness and kindness? And due process? Why is anyone accepting suppression, oppression, racism, discrimination and more as OK, especially those who claim Christianity as their belief system? None of what’s happening is Christian, not according to my Christian beliefs anyway. Not according to the Bible I read.
Encouraging words posted near a garden in the heart of downtown Faribault many years ago. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)
It’s hard, really hard, to remain hopeful in the light of all this. But I try. My mom raised me to be caring, kind and compassionate. She lived that way, helping others through volunteerism and monetary gifts, but mostly through her kind, quiet, gentle and caring spirit. She treated everyone with love and compassion. I wish Mom was still alive so I could talk to her about all of this.
A simple directive on a tombstone at Valley Grove. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)
But sometimes the dead still speak to us. I don’t mean that in a literal sense, but rather in the legacies and words the once-living leave behind. It is one of the reasons I meander through cemeteries. Valley Grove Cemetery, rural Nerstrand, is one of those final resting places that offers an abundance of wisdom upon gravestones.
From my personal collection, a painting on burlap by Mexican artist Jose Maria de Servin that depicts peace. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)
One particular tombstone stands out for the many positive affirmations it lists under the banner, BLESSED ARE THE PEACEMAKERS. (And this means authentic peacemakers, not those who pretend or claim to practice/bring peace.) Under that gravestone header is this broader message: EVERYONE HAS SOME GIFTS THAT CAN MAKE OUR WORLD A LITTLE BETTER. I absolutely agree.
Among a long list of ways we can make the world a better place as listed on a tombstone at Valley Grove Cemetery. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)
Then, on the massive slab of stone, are written specific ways in which we can make the world better and live as peacemakers. I especially appreciate these two messages: TREAT OTHERS THE WAY YOU WANT TO BE TREATED. And BE KIND TO ALL AS YOU NEVER KNOW THEIR BURDENS.
Those are simple, uncomplicated directives that seem easy enough to follow. In 2026, it is my hope that we can shift back to being a caring country, where we treat others as we would like to be treated. And that is with kindness, compassion, care and love.
TELL ME: What are your hopes for 2026 in the U.S., your community? What are your concerns for the new year?
When I walked into Ron’s hodgepodge of a shop in downtown Waterville, I found him working on a puzzle. I asked to take his photo and he agreed. He loves puzzling and that shows. I really like this everyday slice-of-life-in-a-small-town portrait. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2025)
THROUGHOUT THE YEAR, I take thousands of photos, many of them at public events. At these gatherings, whether celebratory or somber, I am drawn to document moments of humanity. Perhaps it’s a look, a reaction, an interaction. I’ve been doing photography long enough to understand when something will make a good photo. And when I say “good,” I mean a well-composed image that tells a story and, hopefully, garners a reaction from anyone who sees it.
I come from a journalism background, earning a degree in mass communications, news-editorial emphasis, in 1978. I was required to take a few photography classes as part of that long ago degree. Those taught me the basics, which I carried with me to every newspaper reporting and freelance job I’ve ever held. I didn’t always have the luxury of a staff photographer. I was the reporter and the photographer.
In the decades since, from film to digital, I’ve gained confidence and skills in photography. And I continue to the love the craft. For me, photography centers on storytelling.
As I’ve been out and about in southern Minnesota during 2025, I’ve used my Canon EOS 60D, an older DSLR camera, to document what I’ve seen. Among the thousands of people photos I took this past year, I chose my top 12 to highlight in this end-of-year post. Only one image, the photo at the top of this post, was not photographed at a public gathering.
Enjoy! And feel free to share your thoughts in the comment section.
I caught the moment a firefighter rang a bell outside the Faribault fire hall during a 9/11 commemoration. The morning light was perfect and everything fell into place to make this an especially moving photo. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo 2025)
A tender moment when a mom retied a ribbon on her daughter’s Czech costume during a dance at Montgomery’s Czech May Day celebration. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo May 2025)
Oktoberfest in Dundas provided plenty of photo ops, including this one where a young boy wanted to join the dancing adults.Or maybe he was just watching, happy to be on the sideline. Whatever, I like the photo a lot. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2025)
In this inter-generational scene, a grandfather teaches marbles to his grandsons at the Valley Grove Country Social, rural Nerstrand. They were so intent on the game that they paid me no attention, just as I like it. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2025)
I found this scene humorous and likely relatable for every guy who has ever waited for their partner to finish shopping. I took the image outside RR Revival in Lonsdale during a craft show in that small town. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2025)
If ever there was a photo that exudes love of country in rural Minnesota, it is this image of a wagonload of people heading to the Memorial Day program at the Cannon City Cemetery. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo May 2025)
In the context of everything happening in America, especially in Minnesota, this photo sends a strong message of American pride. These Somali-American children, U.S. flags in hand, watched the Memorial Day parade in downtown Faribault. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo May 2025)
As a cannon shot off during the Riverside Rendezvous & History Festival in Faribault, attendees were told to cover their ears for protection. I framed this scene to tell that story. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo May 2025)
There were no second chances to get this photo of two women greeting each other at a downtown Faribault Car Cruise Night. I love the joy I was able to photograph in one single shot. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 2025)
The Rice County Steam & Gas Engines Show tractor parade offers plenty of photo ops. I see total admiration on this young boy’s face and was delighted to photograph that sweet moment. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo August 2025)
I loved watching and documenting the younger and older generations shelling corn together at the Rice County Steam & Gas Engines Show in a living rural history scene. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo August 2025)
Here’s the early 1970s edition of “1984” which I read. The print was small, difficult to read.(Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo November 2025)
MULTIPLE TIMES I NEARLY STOPPED reading the book. But I was determined to finish, although the process took weeks. Sometimes I could read many pages. Other times I had to stop, set the book aside and not pick it up for several days. Yet, I continued slogging through the pages.
What book caused me to struggle so? The answer: 1984 by George Orwell.
If you’ve never read this dystopian novel and, no, I hadn’t, you should. Written in 1949, it is so relevant to today that the book could easily be titled 2025. And that’s not a good thing.
I jotted four full-sized pages of notes while reading. And what emerged was downright scary, because the fiction Orwell penned 76 years ago strongly resembles the United States of America under our current administration.
PLOT SUMMARY
But first, a summary of 1984. Main character Winston Smith lives in Oceania, a country ruled by The Party and the unseen Big Brother, who is watching, always watching. Smith is a writer, working for The Ministry of Truth, which is anything but. Workers there are tasked with rewriting history, basically erasing the past. Censorship. Smith, however, secretly disagrees with The Party’s work and ideology. But he, like others of the same mind, must be careful, oh, so careful. No one can be trusted, as Smith eventually learns firsthand.
People are disappeared from the streets, snatched. Vaporized, as if they never existed.
Troubling words like hatred, Thought Police, thought crime and control emerge in this novel. All are connected to The Party, a party focused on absolute power, world domination, acquiring more territory, on shaping narrative, on eliminating art, literature and science.
If The Party told you that 2+2=5, you better believe that. Smith didn’t.
The Party aims for absolute dominance—authoritarian rule under a dictatorship that opposes individual freedom and seeks to control every facet of life and the mind. Children are indoctrinated, blindly following and adoring The Party, becoming little spies who will turn on anyone suspected of defying Big Brother’s ideology. A woman calls Big Brother “My Savior.” Big Brother’s image is imprinted upon a coin. The eyes are watching, always watching.
HOW WILL IT END?
As I turned page after page, I tried to hold hope that 1984 would end well, although I knew it wouldn’t. I can only hope that the fiction George Orwell wrote does not fully become our reality in America. Whether it does or doesn’t is on all of us.
We can choose love over hatred. We can choose to exercise our personal liberties by speaking up, voting, contacting our elected officials, protesting, standing strong in and for freedom. We can advocate for others, calling out wrongs, working for the marginalized, the “snatched,” those struggling emotionally, financially and otherwise. We can help, encourage, uplift. We can listen. We can remember and learn from the past, not some rewritten version of the past. We can stand up for art, science, literature, truth. We can support freedom of the press, turn to trusted and reliable media sources. We can declare that we, the people, hold the power. Not Big Brother. Not a single man or his followers. Not The Party. But, we, the people.
WE THE PEOPLE
We the People of the United States, in Order to form a more perfect Union, establish Justice, insure domestic Tranquility, provide for the common defence, promote the general Welfare, and secure the Blessings of Liberty to ourselves and our Posterity, do ordain and establish this Constitution for the United States of America. —Preamble to the United States Constitution
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TELL ME: Have you read 1984? If yes, what are your thoughts in the context of today, specifically in America?Do you see similarities, relevancy? What concerns you, if anything?
Among the many hands of the Faribault community, painted in a mural. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2025)
WHAT ARE WE without community? The answer: alone.
We, at our very core, need each other. In times of celebration. In times of challenges. Even in times of great division. Without friends, family, neighbors and others, we are but individuals without community.
This mural was painted for and placed outside the Congregational Church in Faribault. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2025)
And in Faribault, among the many murals adorning public spaces in the downtown area, one piece of art stands out as representing community. That is a free-standing mural placed on the west side of the Congregational Church of Faribault United Church of Christ this past summer. It seems an appropriate focal point to end 2025 and begin the new year.
The artwork, created by Shirley Rainey and her son Jason, features outstretched arms rising from the earth against a backdrop red heart and blue sky. “The mural represents the importance of coming together to share burdens and triumphs, while reaching for our highest selves,” Rainey said in an artist’s statement.
Henna painted on a hand reflects Somali culture. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2025)
I see that in the mural. But I also see a community of diversity. The Raineys show that in assorted skin tones, clothing, hand sizes and even henna painted on a hand. I love that about this art, this intentional, varied depiction of Faribault as it is—gloriously diverse.
That said, I am well aware of the racial tension (and that’s a tamped down word) in my community. I wish it didn’t exist, that we all got along, welcomed and embraced one another. We are, after all, just people who live, love, work, play, laugh, cry… The list of commonalities we share as humans goes on and on. Yes, we are different, too. But differences seen as negative, those we create.
The diverse hands of Faribault, up close, in the new community mural. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo December 2025)
We can learn from that church painting. We can choose to love one another, as portrayed in the over-sized backdrop red heart. We can stand side-by-side and raise our hands to help one another. We can see, in those arms stretched skyward, the possibilities in building community. In that blue sky, we can envision not only our personal dreams, but the dreams of all who call Faribault home.
Faribault is a multi-cultural community, always has been. From early settlement days to today, people have come here from around the world to start anew. Whether French, Irish, German, Scandinavian, Latino, Asian, Sudanese, Somalian or any of many other ethnicities, this place has become home. We can choose to create community or not.
I hope in 2026 that Faribault can build a better, stronger, more unified community which celebrates our commonalities, and our differences.
Pedestrians cross Central Avenue in downtown Faribault during a blizzard Sunday afternoon. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo December 2025)
IT’S LATE SUNDAYAFTERNOON and we should be on the interstate right now driving from Faribault to Minneapolis St. Paul International Airport. But instead, wicked winter weather changed everything. We are hunkered down at home, in the midst of a good old-fashioned Minnesota blizzard predicted to drop as much as 10 inches of snow on our area.
Another view of Central Avenue looking north. You can barely see the stoplight a block away. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo December 2025)
Fifteen minutes to the south, Interstate 35 southbound is closed from Owatonna into Iowa. Travel is not advised in many areas, including north of Faribault, the direction we would be going. There are crashes, spin-outs, jack-knifed semis. Snowplows have been pulled in some counties due to deteriorating conditions with wind whipping snow, creating white-out conditions.
And at the airport, where we should be headed to drop off our son for his 7 pm flight back to Boston, cancellations and delays are stacking up. Saturday afternoon he rebooked to an early Tuesday morning flight per our suggestion. We did not want to be driving on Interstate 35 to the airport in a blizzard.
The scene as we left Gather on Central around 3:15 pm Sunday. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo December 2025)
But Randy and I did head downtown Faribault, a short drive from our house, to celebrate a friend’s 80th birthday earlier this afternoon. In the 90 minutes we were there, weather conditions worsened substantially. The wind picked up, swirling snow along Central Avenue. If things look this bad in town, I can only imagine how conditions are in the open countryside.
Willow Street in Faribault Sunday afternoon a block from our home. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo December 2025)
Yup, I’m thankful to be home and not attempting a trip to the airport. The son can work remotely on Monday. We’re all safe, sheltered inside waiting out this blizzard.
“Silent Night,” an acrylic painting by Adele Beals, for sale at the Holly Days Sale, Paradise Center for the Arts, Faribault. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo December 2025)
THERE’S MUCH TO PONDER this Christmas as we find our nation in turmoil. Anger simmers and boils. Discord rises. Oppression continues. Peace in our country, let alone throughout the world, feels more elusive than ever. These are difficult days.
A baby in a manger at my church, Trinity Lutheran, Faribault. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo December 2025)
Likewise, the newborn Jesus and his parents faced similar challenges some 2,000 years ago. They were refugees who fled their Judean homeland for Egypt under the threat of an oppressive and violent leader. King Herod ordered all baby boys in Bethlehem to be killed after learning that a “King of the Jews” was born there. He feared being replaced. When I consider a leader so cold, calculating and cruel that he would mandate the killing of any boy age two and under to retain power, well, it seems unconscionable. But it was reality. And, had I been Mary, I also would have done everything possible to save my son.
Consider that in the context of today. Here. In America. Threats to our immigrants may not be as severe as death, although some have died in ICE custody. But detention and deportation, or the threat thereof, are very real. This is happening all over the U.S., including right here in my southern Minnesota community.
Photographed several years ago along a recreational trail in Madison, Wisconsin. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)
For example, locally-based HealthFinders Collaborative, a community health center serving the underserved and uninsured in my area, has issued a statement that their patients, staff, volunteers and others do not feel safe due to visibly present federal agents in our communities. People are canceling appointments. People are afraid. In response to the very real fear people are feeling, HealthFinders is expanding virtual visits and is locking clinic doors. I expect those living in biblical times felt similar angst under the authoritarian rule of King Herod. No wonder Mary and Joseph fled with Jesus to Egypt.
This Christmas I can’t pretend everything is OK while hatred, disparaging rhetoric and injustices run rampant in this country. As a woman of faith, I look at Jesus and see how he lovingly embraced people. He showed love, care, compassion, kindness. To all. He would not be alright with certain groups of people being hated on. He would not be OK with people targeted, hunted, gathered, detained, sent away. Poof. Gone.
Among my favorite signs/messages at a No Kings protest I attended in Northfield this past summer. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo June 2025)
If there’s any message to take away from Christmas this year, it’s that we need to stand up for our neighbors. Ask ourselves the once-trendy question, “What Would Jesus Do?” We need to voice our concerns. Resist. Help. Encourage. Follow Jesus’ lead of serving, loving and supporting those who need us most right now. And that’s not the King Herods who choose power over humanity.
In closing, I hold hope that we, as individuals and a nation, will stand strong against that which oppresses us, that which is inhumane and that which is just plain wrong. We all, whether people of faith or not, inherently understand the difference between right and wrong, good and evil. Let us live as people who care about goodness, kindness, compassion, love and peace.
Across a farm field, the Keller farm glows with holiday lights. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo December 2025)
AS DUSK DESCENDS on the prairie 11 miles east of Faribault, countless holiday lights glow on the Keller farm, just down a gravel road from St. John’s United Church of Christ, Wheeling Township. In this country church, I first met members of the Keller family years ago. For more than 50 years the Kellers, rooted in faith, family and community, have decorated the home place with holiday lights and displays.
One of the first things you will see are these lighted grain wagons parked in the farmyard along the gravel road. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo December 2025)
The Keller Christmas Farm is a sight to behold and a must-see during the holidays. Some families have been coming here for years.
A Nativity scene outside St. John’s United Church of Christ, Wheeling Township. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo December 2025)
The beautifully-decorated Keller family farm home. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo December 2025)
Vehicles head up the eastern driveway, circle past the barn and then back out through the western driveway.“What Child Is This?” reads the message on the barn roof. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo December 2025)
On a recent evening, Randy and I followed back county and township roads, past farm sites, fields layered in snow and St. John’s church, to the place where Craig Keller has lived his entire life. He and his brother Keith coordinate this annual holiday display which draws thousands to this rural location. A steady stream of vehicles followed the snow-packed, icy driveway into and around the farmyard to view the scenes as Christmas music blared.
Holiday lights glow bright atop a grain bin. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo December 2025)
Randy and I wound through twice since I was trying to photograph scenes and we didn’t want to slow others down. For a bit I trudged in the snow to take a few photos, not something visitors should do. But I figured Craig knows me and he would be okay with me stepping briefly outside the van for a brief walk about.
Lights are everywhere, even up the side of the silo. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo December 2025)
There’s so much to see here that, even if you’re not taking photos, a second drive-through seems necessary. Seemingly every building from house to barn to grain bin to sheds, even the towering silo, shines with lights and decorations.
This handcrafted Santa has been around for a while. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo December 2025)
I especially love that many of the decorations are homemade—painted on pressed wood and plywood and weathered by decades of Christmases exposed to the elements.
One of many signs welcoming visitors. This one, written in German, reads “Welcome. Merry Christmas.” (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo December 2025)
I love that vintage, hard plastic holiday decorations stand aglow in the dark. I don’t recall seeing a single blow-up anything. I love the personal messages, too, written by the Kellers.
That’s Santa all aglow inside this tractor. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo December 2025)
I love that farm equipment, like a tractor, grain wagons, a corn planter, grain drills and more are incorporated into Christmas scenes. Even a tractor tire has been transformed into a wreath.
A festive corner outside the barn. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo December 2025)
This festive holiday display definitely looks and feels uniquely rural.
One of my favorite parts of the display is this country church. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo December 2025)
Here you’ll find secular aspects of Christmas—Santa, his elves, snowmen, etc.—but also, and mostly, the faith aspect focusing on the birth of Christ. I didn’t even try to count all the Nativity scenes. But there are many, including next to a mini white wooden church. Outside the church, an organist plays a massive pipe organ. In real-life, Craig Keller plays the organ at St. John’s.
I love the birthday cake and also how the Nativity scene shadows onto the grain bin. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo December 2025)
A three-layered birthday cake for Jesus, complete with red candles, is strategically placed by the church, a focal point that draws attention to the real reason for Christmas—Christ’s birth.
Among the many Nativity scenes staged at the farm. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo December 2025)
After about 45 minutes at the Keller farm, I left with cold fingers (from taking photos), but a warm heart. Family matriarch Elsie Keller, who died in 2019 at the age of 93, would be happy that her family continues with this annual holiday lighting tradition, only a field away from the country church her immigrant grandparents helped found in 1856. The place where I met Elsie and her descendants, the family that has shared Christmas with the public for more than half a century in rural southern Minnesota.
Near the exit, a final message. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo December 2025)
FYI: The Keller Christmas Farm drive-through holiday light display is open from dusk to 10 pm daily until January 6. To get there from Faribault, take Minnesota State Highway 60 east for 8.3 miles, turn left/north onto Jacobs Avenue for two miles and then, by the church, turn right/east onto 190th Street East. You’ll see the farm on the right at 10557 190th Street East. While the display is free, donations are accepted in a special donation box between the house and barn.
The Memory Tree at Trinity Lutheran Church, Faribault. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo December 2025)
WHEN THE PAPER ANGELS come off the tree, the personalized ornaments go up. From Angel Tree to Memory Tree, an artificial tree standing in the narthex of my church, Trinity Lutheran in Faribault, morphs each holiday season.
From Angel Tree to Memory Tree. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo December 2025)
First, my long-time Bible study group assembles and decorates the tree which serves duo purposes. From this tree, people choose paper angels upon which anonymous identifying information is printed. Age, sex and Christmas gift ideas. People who pick an angel then buy gifts and bring them back unwrapped. My bible study group wraps most with some left unwrapped as nonprofit social service organizations request.
This mini John Deere tractor honors Harland. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo December 2025)
Once this project is done, the tree becomes a Memory Tree, a place where people can honor loved ones via a personal ornament tagged with the name of the deceased and his/her death date.
Barb ran a local hair salon. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo December 2025)
I love this idea because we have all lost loved ones whom we miss, especially during the holidays. The ornaments on this tree are a visual reminder of our loss and love. This tree represents communal grief. To acknowledge and share grief is to find our way toward healing.
Marv loved living in the country and farming. His youngest daughter and her family now live and farm on the family farm. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo December 2025)
This Christmas, may the memories you hold of loved ones now gone bring a smile to your face, joy to your heart, perhaps even tears to your eyes. We grieve because we loved. Hold onto the memories, hold onto the love.
Winds and blowing snow produce near white-out conditions during a past winter storm in southern Minnesota. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)
“I DIDN’T THINK it would be that bad,” Randy said. Neither did I.
But our drive to and from Minneapolis-St. Paul International Airport Thursday afternoon to get our son, arriving from Boston, proved difficult and stressful. Let me set the scene.
As we headed out of Faribault toward Interstate 35 shortly after lunch, freezing pellets pinged our windshield and the wind blew fierce, limiting visibility. And we weren’t even out of town.
A WICKED WIND
Once on the interstate, though, the precipitation soon stopped. But the wind gusted with such ferocity that I could feel it tugging at the van and observed semi truck drivers struggling to keep their rigs in their lanes.
Yet, the wicked 40 mph winds—or whatever ridiculous speed they reached—dried the pavement of the rain that fell earlier in the morning. That rain later transitioned to intermittent snow as temps continued to drop throughout the day. The morning temp started at nearly 40 degrees.
We detoured from our airport route to stop at our nephew’s house in Apple Valley to pick up a Christmas gift and stained glass supplies. Within that 45-minute visit, the weather worsened. But, surprisingly, our son’s flight arrived 15 minutes early. Here I’d been concerned about a possible late arrival due to weather conditions.
As we got onto Cedar Avenue aiming for the airport, traffic volume increased. We blended into the traffic flow, proceeding with caution like almost everyone else. Except the usual few motorists who do not drive for conditions. Snowplows were out sanding and salting and spreading whatever to de-ice road surfaces.
WAITING & MORE WAITING
I thought we would be late and Caleb would be waiting for us inside the terminal. But no. He was waiting for his luggage. We waited in the cellphone lot for a good half hour as he waited for his bags. Yes, a lot of waiting.
Eventually we were back in bumper-to-bumper traffic as vehicles crept toward passenger pick-up. This always feels like a game of chicken to me, trying to wedge into the gridlock so your loved one can see you and get safely to your vehicle. Eventually we reached door four, spotted Caleb, hefted his mammoth suitcase into the back of the van, placed the backpack behind the driver’s seat, grabbed a quick hug and started home.
AT LEAST WE’RE MOVING
Traffic congestion continued, although we were moving. And moving is always better than not. I just wanted to get home before the weather got worse, before rush hour traffic peaked and because, well, I really had to pee. It’s not the first time I’ve wished for a porta potty in the cellphone lot.
To move this story along, once we got farther out of the metro, past Elko New Market, traffic lessened. The wind still blew fierce and snow fell. We were in wide open country, rural Minnesota. The wind swept the snow away like a broom, leaving traffic lanes clean.
SNOW GATES
All was going fine until we got about 10 miles from Faribault. Visibility wasn’t reduced to white-out conditions, but wind-driven snow diminished visibility considerably in some spots. “I bet they closed the snow gates in Owatonna,” I said in the midst of all this. Snow gates, if you’re unfamiliar with the term, are actual gates pulled across the top of entrance ramps to keep motorists off the interstate during a winter storm.
I haven’t read any media reports that Interstate 35 snow gates were closed yesterday. But I did read of a multi-vehicle crash that happened on I-35 between Owatonna and Ellendale at 3:15 pm in blizzard-like conditions. That closed the southbound lane for three hours. Owatonna is a 15-minute drive south of Faribault.
We arrived home at 3:30 pm, safe and sound with an hour to spare before dark. Soon thereafter, our eldest daughter texted that no travel was advised in Rice County. We’d gotten home just in time as our county was now among many Minnesota counties in a blizzard warning. We cozied in for the night while the wind howled, me thankful that we made it to the airport and back without incident.
This morning we awoke to sub-zero temps. And a fresh layer of snow to shovel.
Audrey Kletscher Helbling with Santa at a Faribault grocery store. (Photo credit: Randy Helbling)
WHEN I SPOTTED SANTA at the grocery store yesterday, I decided to get my picture taken with him. You’re never too old for Santa, right? But the Jolly Old Man didn’t even notice me, so busy was he guzzling his Coca-Cola while marketing Coke products.
I hadn’t considered that Santa would need a side job, especially during the hectic holiday season. Isn’t managing the elves, feeding the reindeer, making public appearances, reviewing kids’ Christmas lists and packing the sleigh enough for one man to handle?
But I suppose Santa, like all of us, is feeling the effects of higher prices. He’s paying tariffs on parts the elves can’t make. Mrs. Claus needs baking ingredients that have skyrocketed in price. The North Pole toy workshop heating bill is likely high, even higher than in icebox Minnesota. So Santa probably welcomes the extra income from his grocery store side hustle.
Undeterred by Santa turning his back on me, I cozied up to him and asked my dear husband to snap a photo. Randy obliged, but not without a look of concern. I didn’t care. I needed a spark of fun in my day. Santa obviously paid me no mind.
Now, if the marketer of Coke products, the supervisor of elves, the giver of wonderful gifts had taken the time to chat with me, I would have handed him a Christmas wish list. What I’d really like Santa to bring to this world, especially this country, are compassion, kindness, respect, empathy, peace and love.
In all reality, Santa can’t deliver on that. Only we can.
Minnesota Prairie Roots 
Thoughts as we begin 2026 during these challenging times in the U.S. January 1, 2026
Tags: 2026, commentary, compassion, faith, Faribault, gravestones, ICE presence, kindness, life, Minnesota, New Year, opinion, thoughts, tombstones, United States, Valley Grove Cemetery
AS THE NEW YEAR begins, I enter it with a whole lot of trepidation, uncertainty and concern. Feeling optimistic right now does not come easily. I fear for our country. I fear for my community. I fear for my Latino and Somali neighbors, targeted by the federal government. Yes, ICE agents are visible and active in Faribault. Though I have not seen them myself, this information comes from reliable sources.
I fear that we are becoming desensitized to the ICE snatchings. I fear we are becoming desensitized to the lies, the rhetoric, the hatred, the awfulness spewing from, well, way too many leaders and even everyday people.
What happened to common decency and goodness and kindness? And due process? Why is anyone accepting suppression, oppression, racism, discrimination and more as OK, especially those who claim Christianity as their belief system? None of what’s happening is Christian, not according to my Christian beliefs anyway. Not according to the Bible I read.
It’s hard, really hard, to remain hopeful in the light of all this. But I try. My mom raised me to be caring, kind and compassionate. She lived that way, helping others through volunteerism and monetary gifts, but mostly through her kind, quiet, gentle and caring spirit. She treated everyone with love and compassion. I wish Mom was still alive so I could talk to her about all of this.
But sometimes the dead still speak to us. I don’t mean that in a literal sense, but rather in the legacies and words the once-living leave behind. It is one of the reasons I meander through cemeteries. Valley Grove Cemetery, rural Nerstrand, is one of those final resting places that offers an abundance of wisdom upon gravestones.
One particular tombstone stands out for the many positive affirmations it lists under the banner, BLESSED ARE THE PEACEMAKERS. (And this means authentic peacemakers, not those who pretend or claim to practice/bring peace.) Under that gravestone header is this broader message: EVERYONE HAS SOME GIFTS THAT CAN MAKE OUR WORLD A LITTLE BETTER. I absolutely agree.
Then, on the massive slab of stone, are written specific ways in which we can make the world better and live as peacemakers. I especially appreciate these two messages: TREAT OTHERS THE WAY YOU WANT TO BE TREATED. And BE KIND TO ALL AS YOU NEVER KNOW THEIR BURDENS.
Those are simple, uncomplicated directives that seem easy enough to follow. In 2026, it is my hope that we can shift back to being a caring country, where we treat others as we would like to be treated. And that is with kindness, compassion, care and love.
TELL ME: What are your hopes for 2026 in the U.S., your community? What are your concerns for the new year?
© Copyright 2026 Audrey Kletscher Helbling