Minnesota Prairie Roots

UNDER A SUNNY February sky, they gathered in communion around fire pits outside two historic Norwegian immigrant churches high atop a hill in eastern Rice County. Food, fellowship and a fondness for this place drew people here, to the fourth annual Doughnut Hole Roasting Party.

For the first time, I attended this event, although I’ve been to the Valley Grove churches and the adjacent cemetery many times. I love this secluded spot near Nerstrand, where historic wood-frame and limestone churches rise above the surrounding countryside in an especially picturesque setting. There are prairie trails to hike here and an oak savanna. It’s peaceful here.

On this balmy Sunday afternoon of unseasonably warm temps in the mid-fifties, sweatshirt or light jacket weather, conversations broke the quiet. The mood felt engaging, connective, of communion in community.

Hosted by the Valley Grove Preservation Society Board, the roasting of doughnut holes was also an event to raise monies for ongoing preservation and restoration projects at the 1862 stone and 1894 wooden churches. Both churches are on the National Register of Historic Places.

Even with no personal connection to these churches or the Norwegian heritage, I understand the historical importance of these immigrant churches. Step inside either church and you can almost feel the strength of those early Norwegians who crossed the ocean, started a new life in Minnesota, built first the now 164-year-old stone church and then the 132-year-old wood-frame church.

The stone church serves today primarily as a social gathering spot. The wooden church still hosts the occasional service—a wedding, a funeral and the annual Christmas Eve worship. Other celebrations like Syttende Mai, a wedding anniversary reunion and a country social are also held annually at Valley Grove.

But on this day, we focused on doughnut holes forked onto metal roasting sticks and held over an open flame. Some roasted their treats to coal black, to caramelize the doughnuts I was told. Not fond of charred anything, I preferred mine heated then dipped in chocolate. They were sweet and tasty and messy. I found a shadowed patch of remnant snow to “wash” my sticky fingers.

Although I knew only one person here, I made a new friend, Mary, who sat with her dog on a stone memorial bench in the cemetery, sunshine beaming warmth upon them. Others meandered through the graveyard where early Norwegian immigrants, their descendants and others lie buried beneath the cold earth.

On the dormant lawn between the two churches, people clustered—standing, sitting in lawn chairs, bending, reaching over flames to roast doughnut holes on a Sunday afternoon in mid-February in southern Minnesota.

© Copyright 2026 Audrey Kletscher Helbling