Minnesota Prairie Roots

Writing and photography by Audrey Kletscher Helbling

Hearing, listening & the drone of war August 14, 2025

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(Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)

IF I LISTEN CLOSELY, I can hear the incessant chirp of crickets beneath the steady drone of traffic rushing past my house. I live along a busy street, where noise is a constant except in the deep hours of the night. Even then, though, the lone blare of a siren may pierce the night silence, enough to awaken me.

I hear lots of sounds. But that’s not the same as listening. There’s a difference. Hearing is simply taking in sound waves. But listening requires intentional focus. Not only physically hearing, but also paying attention, picking up on verbal and non-verbal cues, remaining quiet.

Many of us are not particularly good at listening. It requires discipline, silence and an understanding that whatever we hear holds significance. Chirping crickets signal the end of summer. Screeching sirens indicate an emergency. And when someone is speaking to me, it means they have something to say. And I need to listen.

I consider myself to be a pretty good listener. As a journalist, I really honed my listening skills, a necessity in covering any news story, doing any interview. And on a personal level, I’ve always been more interested in what others are saying than in hearing my own voice.

Therein lies the problem. Too many of us like the sound of our own voices. If someone starts sharing their own story, their own challenges, we tend to interject our own stories. That’s when a push “pause” seems appropriate. Our listening skills need to kick in as we clamp our lips in silence and remember that the conversation is not about us.

So all of this leads me to the meeting between President Donald Trump and Russian President Vladimir Putin on Friday in Anchorage, Alaska, to discuss the war in Ukraine. Noticeably absent will be Ukrainian leader Volodymyr Zelenskyy. Now you’d think, given the war is raging in Ukraine, that Zelenskyy should be at the table. He asked to be there. But, if the two other leaders heard, they didn’t listen. A pre-meeting conversation between Trump and Zelenskyy isn’t the same as including the Ukrainian president in the summit.

From all accounts, the Trump administration is now billing Friday’s meeting as a “listening exercise.” I find that to be an interesting choice of words. I can’t imagine that either Trump or Putin will really be “listening,” based on past meetings between the two and observations I’ve made about them. But, hey, maybe this time they really will hear the crickets chirping above the drone of war, the blaring of sirens.

© Copyright 2025 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Reunions galore & why they’re important to me August 12, 2025

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At a previous Helbling reunion, I pulled stories from a family history book to display. Some of the stories were part of a family history trivia contest I planned. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)

THERE’S SOMETHING TO BE SAID about the importance of family reunions. They allow us to reconnect, to celebrate, to reminisce, to build new memories, to support, encourage and appreciate one another and our shared histories.

A snippet of a photo from the July 1938 family reunion in Courtland attended by 511 Bodes. My grandparents, Lawrence and Josephine Bode, are in the center of the picture, between the adults holding the babies. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)

THE BODE FAMILY

My first reunion of the summer was a small gathering with a maternal aunt, uncle, cousins and my youngest brother and his wife in south Minneapolis. Aunt Rae, my godmother, was in town from Missouri. Over a table laden with breakfast foods, we talked and laughed and then afterwards moved to the screened in porch for more catching up and a discussion about the current state of affairs in this country. Mostly, though, we talked family. Since my mom’s death in 2022, I’ve felt even more the need to stay connected to her siblings and their families.

The annual Kletscher reunion always starts at noon with a potluck. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)

THE KLETSCHER FAMILY

The next reunion happened on the last Sunday of July. The extended Kletscher family met in Echo, a small southwestern Minnesota town some seven miles north of my hometown. There, in a community center, we filled tables with homemade foods for a noon potluck. Afterwards, I circulated in an attempt to talk to nearly everyone in attendance. This reunion has been going on annually for probably seventy years or more. I don’t always make it. But I try to because I’d rather see my cousins and my remaining aunts and uncle at a happy event rather than at a funeral.

A photo board displayed at a Helbling reunion several years ago. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)

THE HELBLING FAMILY

And then there is the Helbling reunion, held last weekend at a nephew’s rural Faribault acreage. This gathering brings my husband Randy’s family together from all across Minnesota and the country. Our son flew in from Boston. Our second daughter and her family arrived from Madison, Wisconsin. Others came from Michigan, Missouri and North Dakota. This event happens annually. And each year family members travel from all over to see each other, which says a lot about just how important family connections are to all of us.

Jams and jelly won in the family raffle. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo August 2025)

This year organizers changed things up a bit by replacing BINGO with a raffle of homemade/home-grown foods and goods. There were cookies, banana bread, multiple jams, wine, honey, engraved stones, crocheted animals, garden fresh potatoes, salsa and more, including canned rabbit meat. I brought an anthology that included five pieces of my writing. Randy brought a bottle of Cry Baby Craig’s hot sauce, an allowed raffle item given it’s made in Faribault.

Everyone went home with something. But perhaps the best part of the raffle was the money raised for the Community Action Center in Faribault via the sale of $5 raffle tickets. With $300 in raffle ticket sales and a company match by an employer, the CAC will be gifted with $600 from the Helbling family. This family cares.

Tom and Betty Helbling, circa early 1950s.

I love my husband’s family. They are a genuinely loving, kind, caring, compassionate, generous and supportive group. During the reunion, we shared family updates while the kids bounced in a cow-shaped bouncy house. During a corn hole tournament, Tristan and his teammate once again walked away with the “trophy,” a mini corn hole board. My six-year-old grandson showed me how to pound nails into a round of wood in a game of hammerschlagen. My granddaughter and I watched baby ducks swim in a pond next to a menagerie of poultry, goats and two black sheep. Kids shot rockets high into the air. Adults gathered in lawnchair clusters to chat. Slowly, as the sun set, family members began to leave. I left feeling so loved.

The evening prior, the siblings and their spouses met at the Craft Beverage Curve in Faribault for food, drinks and conversation. The new addition to the reunion proved popular. Family raved about the setting. I felt a deep sense of pride in my community. But mostly, I felt the love of the Helbling family which I have been part of for 43 years. Tom and Betty Helbling would be proud of the family they started. And they would be happy that, on the second Saturday in August each year, their family reconnects at a reunion.

© Copyright 2025 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Clearly I needed to write about homelessness & housing insecurity in Faribault…read on August 6, 2025

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This poster inside Trinity Lutheran Church shows an architectural drawing of Ridgeview Heights and a Vacation Bible School mission fundraising goal for the housing project. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo August 2025)

ON MY WAY TO SUNDAY MORNING church services, I missed an opportunity to live my faith. Reflecting on that moment, I’m still uncertain what I could have done. But the guilt I feel about doing nothing at the time remains.

Let me set the scene. While driving to church, Randy and I dropped off some mail downtown. Up the hill from the post office, I noticed a parked car crammed with stuff. Someone clearly lived out of the vehicle, one I’ve previously seen. Then my eyes shifted to the adjacent street corner and an individual, cocooned in a bright gold blanket, sleeping atop a bench. And then we turned the corner.

“I should take a picture,” I told Randy, my mind already creating a story that would enlighten others about homelessness in Faribault. But then I quickly realized that taking a photo wouldn’t be particularly kind. And so we continued on to church.

Still, I couldn’t shake the image of that person stretched atop a bench along Central Avenue. I wondered about his story, why and how he found himself without a home. And I considered how vulnerable and exposed I would feel sleeping like that in a public place. Those thoughts followed me into church.

“HOUSING FOR THE HOMELESS”

When I stepped inside the sanctuary, I immediately noticed a “Housing for the Homeless” poster near the organ. There are coincidences and then there are what I term “God moments.” And this, in my mind, was clearly divine. I’ve seen enough of these occurrences in my life to distinguish the two. God was assuredly nudging me to write on the topic of homelessness and housing insecurity in my community.

That sign in church was a promotional for the chosen mission of this year’s Vacation Bible School, which started that very evening at Trinity. Participants are donating their monetary gifts to Ridgeview Heights, an accessible, sustainable housing community to be built in downtown Faribault just blocks from the slumbering man on the bench. The VBS fundraising goal is $500.

That $500 may seem inconsequential considering the $2.5 million project cost. But every dollar helps in constructing the two buildings aimed at housing families with children, including those experiencing homelessness. Two of the eight units will serve as free emergency shelters and the other six will be market rate workforce units.

A COMMUNITY ACTS

The Community Action Center, which works collaboratively to alleviate hunger, homelessness and poverty among individuals and families in the community, is the lead on Ridgeview Heights. With an in-kind land donation from the city of Faribault, two grants, gifts, community donations and financing, the CAC is able to break ground at 4 p.m. today, August 6, for the much-needed two and three-bedroom units.

So first I saw the sleeping man, then the poster. And then came the sermon…with a directive that congregations ought to think, plan and act in ways that bless people. The guest pastor encouraged us not to think less of ourselves, but to think of ourselves less (a loose quote from C.S. Lewis). In other words, turn the focus outward on the community rather than inward to the church’s needs. The VBS kids will be doing exactly that this week with their “Housing for the Homeless” mission focus.

A FAMILY THAT CARES

Now you may think my story ends here. But it doesn’t. On July 28, I received a mass email about an upcoming Helbling family reunion. Organizers are changing things up this year by raffling items made by family members. One of several ways to qualify for a raffle entry is via a $5 charitable donation. All donations will go to the Community Action Center in Faribault with a dollar-for-dollar match from my eldest niece’s employer.

Truly, I was meant to write this story. I may have bypassed the man sleeping on the bench. But I got the message, loud and clear, that I needed to write about homelessness and housing insecurity in Faribault. I’ve seen the tents pitched along the river, beside train tracks, behind evergreen trees, next to a park. I’ve seen the homeless in the library, sleeping in the Central Park bandshell, biking and walking about town, including past my house. I am aware of the long waiting list for emergency shelter. Even if I failed to “do” something, I can raise awareness through my writing. And by doing that, perhaps I am helping in some small way to bless my community, including the man sleeping on a bench in the heart of downtown Faribault on a Sunday morning.

© Copyright 2025 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Oh, how I love locally-grown sweetcorn August 5, 2025

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Freshly-picked sweetcorn at the Little Prairie roadside stand, rural Dundas. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo August 2025)

IF THE TASTE OF SUMMER can be defined in one word, then perhaps that would be “sweetcorn.”

Whether fresh from the garden, vended at farmers’ markets, sold at self-serve roadside stands or purchased at a local grocery store, Minnesota-grown sweetcorn tastes of earth and sky, sun and rain. There’s nothing quite like biting into that first corn of the season.

Little Prairie’s drive-up self-serve sweetcorn stand. Besides sweetcorn, there’s a small sunflower field for photo ops, but no maze this year. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo August 2025)

Right now an abundance of locally-grown sweetcorn can be found throughout southern Minnesota. Randy and I picked some up at a stand just off State Highway 3 between Faribault and Dundas at Little Prairie Sunflower Maze, Pumpkins & Produce. I proclaimed it the best corn I’ve ever eaten. Randy reminded me that, given this was our first sweetcorn of the summer, I may have been biased in that declaration. But the corn was good, really good.

Pick and bag your corn and then pay at the unattended Little Prairie produce stand south of Dundas. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo August 2025)

I shared my assessment with a young couple who pulled into Kaden Ernst’s roadside stand while I snapped photos of his business on wheels complete with homemade signage and an honor system drop box for payment. Ernst also offers the option of scanning a QR code and paying via Venmo. The pair, who recently moved to the area from San Diego, seemed pleased to hear my blue ribbon endorsement of this sweetcorn grown by a young man pursuing an agronomy degree. Ernst has vended his sweetcorn and other produce at roadside stands since high school and I was happy to promote his product.

This sign on Faribault’s east side along Minnesota State Highway 60 promotes one of the area’s popular sweetcorn businesses. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo August 2025)

Likewise, I could endorse many other local growers, including Hein’s Extra Sweet Corn, a family-run business since 1997. When Hein’s signs start popping up around Faribault, I know it’s time to purchase some corn. Customers can buy the fresh-picked-daily sweetcorn at the farm site four miles south of Faribault along Rice County Road 45 or at Hy-Vee grocery stores in Faribault, Owatonna or Mankato. Randy and I have also bought plenty of corn through the years from growers at the Faribault Farmers’ Market.

One of my favorite aspects of roadside stands is the kitschy homemade signage. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo August 2025)

Many decades ago, I ate corn grown on my southwestern Minnesota childhood farm. Whatever corn we didn’t eat fresh, we froze in preparation for winter. “Making sweetcorn” was an all-day event which began with my dad and Uncle Mike harvesting a pick-up bed full of corn from their plantings. Then we, meaning adults and kids alike, husked the corn before Mom blanched it and the men cut the kernels from the cobs for packaging and freezing. That corn tasted of earth and sky, sun and rain in the deep of a frigid Minnesota winter. Just as sweetcorn still tastes today of earth and sky, sun and rain in the heat of a Minnesota summer.

© Copyright 2025 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Three stories of kindness in my community July 30, 2025

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A look through a garden kaleidoscope at The Paine Art Center & Gardens in Oshkosh, WI. (Photo courtesy of Miranda Boyd)

IN SOME WAYS, kindness resembles a kaleidoscope. It’s ever-changing, surprising and delightfully-beautiful. So is music. Combine the two, and you have a harmony of kindness.

A harmonica and instructions given away recently following at a concert in Faribault. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo July 2025)

Attendees at a recent blues concert in Faribault’s Central Park were extended a kindness by the Minnesota Blues Society via the gift of a free harmonica and a short lesson in playing techniques. The Everett Smithson Band had just completed its performance when folks gathered in the park’s center for the give-away. I grabbed two harps (a synonym for harmonica) for my elementary-aged grandchildren, but didn’t stick around for the lesson. An interested group of concert-goers, though, circled Smithson, a Minnesota Blues Society Hall of Fame inductee, for instructions.

Decades ago as a child, I had a metal toy harmonica, with not a clue how to play it. My attempts at music were more noise than anything. Yet here I was, many years later in the presence of a professional harmonica player and vocalist willing to teach a bunch of strangers harmonica basics through the Blues Society’s “Harmonica Lessons for All Ages” program. The group, with a mission in part of promoting blues music in Minnesota, has given away more than 500 harmonicas. That’s a whole lot of kindness spread to music lovers across the state, including right here in Faribault.

Burkhartzmeyer Shoes, in business since 1949. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo July 2025)

KINDNESS IN A SHOE STORE

It was during a previous concert in the same Faribault park that I once again witnessed kindness, this time in the words of a 10-year-old, the daughter of a friend. I don’t recall how the subject turned to shoes. But this young girl, who’d been cartwheeling across the grass and playing Frisbee and kick ball with her sister and friends, declared that her favorite store is Burkhartzmeyer Shoes. That’s a third-generation family-owned shoe store and repair shop in Faribault.

Now when a kid tells you they like a shoe store better than a certain Big Box retailer (which shall remain unnamed), you take notice. Turns out Bruce at Burkhartzmeyer Shoes allowed my young friend entry to the shoe storage space behind the curtains. She was impressed by all the shoes in the back room and by the free sucker you get whenever you buy a pair of shoes. Oh, and by the fact the Burkhartzmeyers know your shoe size just by looking at your feet.

So here I was in the park listening to a story about a kind shop owner who left such an impression on a 10-year-old that she was now promoting “Shop Local” without even realizing it. Kindness in action repaid with kind words.

Books on Central is located along Central Avenue in downtown Faribault. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo 2024)

KINDNESS IN A BOOKSHOP

Another shop in Faribault, this one open not even two years, also excels in exceptional customer service and kindness. Last week, when the grandkids were staying with us, we popped into Books on Central, a used bookstore run by Rice County Area United Way. All proceeds benefit non-profits which the local United Way supports. My granddaughter, who is very much in to dragons, was looking for a dragon book she hadn’t yet read. There were none to be found despite the best efforts of the volunteer staff and myself to locate one.

The next day, though, I received an email from volunteer Dave Campbell that the graphic novel, The Dragonet Prophecy, was just donated. Did I want it for my granddaughter? Izzy, who previously wanted nothing to do with graphic novels, quickly said, “Yes.” Did I mention she loves dragons?

Dave said he would hold the book for me. If not for his wife, Jeanne, who was volunteering on the day we shopped at Books on Central, the Wings of Fire graphic novel would have been processed, shelved and quickly sold. It’s a popular series. But Jeanne remembered Izzy’s dragon interest and, in this act of kindness, a girl who loves to read now has one more dragon book in her collection.

Kindness exists everywhere. I saw it in a harmonica give-away. I heard it in the story of a 10-year-old praising a local shoe shop. And I received it in a book held for the granddaughter I love, the girl I want to live and grow and thrive in a world of kindness.

© Copyright 2025 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Shining kindness, beginning in Minnesota July 29, 2025

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Visit makekind.org to learn the story behind this kindness button and how to order assorted buttons. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo July 2025)

WHEN MY FRIEND SUE rummaged in her purse for something she wanted to give me, she pulled out a button with the message “Make America KIND.” Perfect. I am all for kindness. Sue’s simple act of gifting me with that button, which I pinned to the faded 1970s vintage denim jacket I was wearing, was an act of kindness in itself.

That got me thinking about kindness, not only because of the button, but because Sue and I, along with our husbands, had just finished lunch at the Damsite Supper Club in Pine River. Every Wednesday from 11 a.m.-2 p.m., veterans eat for free. So Sue’s spouse, Charley, enjoyed a complimentary meal as did other vets. The restaurant honors the veterans for their service with the kindness of a meal and then by inviting them to sign a dining room wall.

Signage at the Kindness Rocks Garden explains how the garden works. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo 2024)

Right across the road, my friend reminded me, sits the Kindness Rocks Inspiration Garden. The memorial garden honors Bryce Mink, 11, who died in 2023 of undiagnosed lymphoma. Painted stones decorated with inspiring words and art fill the rock garden. The garden is a visual of kindness.

Before we went on our way, Sue had another gift for me. A bag of books. Fiction, nonfiction and poetry books she felt a “Prairie Lady” would appreciate. She’s downsizing and set aside Visibility: Ten Miles—A Prairie Memoir in Photography and Poetry, Light on the Prairie, Pioneer Girl—The Annotated Autobiography of Laura Ingalls Wilder and several other books. Sue knows me well and I’m grateful for her kindness.

An encouraging message in the Kindness Garden.(Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo July 2024)

KINDNESS DEFINED

What does it really mean to be kind? By my definition, the word means “being nice.” In actions and/or in words. Being generous, caring, compassionate. Being thoughtful. Giving without expecting anything in return. Doing what is right and good. Listening. Encouraging. Supporting. Many words define kindness.

My sister-in-law Rosie showed kindness to Randy and me when she surprised us with a homemade caramel roll upon our recent arrival at her lake cabin. She knows how much we love these rolls from Valeri Ann’s Family Foods, an eatery just down the highway in Merrifield. What a thoughtful gesture given these sweet treats sell out quickly. Rosie got the last two, saving one for us.

In the Pine River kindness garden, one simple message written on a stone by Finley. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo 2024)

KINDNESS IN A HUG

Then there’s the kindness Randy and I recently extended to a stranger via a vintage desk we carried to the curb. When a passerby stopped a while later, I stepped outside to greet her. She wanted the free desk. I also invited her into my living room to look at a table we no longer need. Because the woman spoke limited English, we struggled to communicate, finally resorting to pen and paper until her friend arrived to interpret.

Eventually, the woman decided she wanted the desk only. So Randy helped load it into her friend’s car. And then I spontaneously hugged this Somali immigrant who graciously and gratefully thanked me. It felt like the right thing to do. We held each other for a moment, our embrace warm, genuine.

Kindness came full circle. It didn’t take much effort for me, Randy, Sue, Rosie and the Damsite Supper Club to “Make America KIND” in our own unique ways. Just imagine if every single person extended kindness to family, friends and strangers. This would be a much gentler, compassionate and caring country.

TELL ME: I’d like to hear about a recent act of kindness you either gave or received.

© Copyright 2025 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

An eye for eagles July 22, 2025

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The bald eagle I saw nearby within hours of arriving at a central Minnesota lake cabin. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo July 2025)

LAST SUMMER, LOON sightings proved common at a family member’s lake cabin south of Crosslake in north central Minnesota. This summer, not so much. While Randy and I heard the haunting call of loons during a recent stay, we only saw them twice—once a threesome swimming near shore and then two flying westward before a thunderstorm rolled in.

But bald eagle sightings more than made up for the absence of loons. We’d been at the cabin only hours when one swooped onto the top of a towering pine near the patio where we were enjoying late afternoon drinks with my sister-in-law. Randy pulled out his cellphone to snap a few photos. I stayed put since my 35 mm camera was back at the cabin. I reasoned that, by the time I walked to the cabin and back, the eagle would have flown away. That’s my usual luck.

And so we continued to chat and catch up on family news, the eagle all the while perched atop the tree like some silent eavesdropper. Finally I couldn’t stand it any longer. I headed to the cabin for my Canon, cautiously optimistic that the eagle would still be in the tree upon my return. It was.

Wings spread wide, the bald eagle lifts off from the treetop. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo July 2025)

I moved slowly away from the patio, pine tree and eagle in view, aimed my telephoto lens skyward and snapped a single frame before the eagle lifted off. I can only surmise that my camera lens appeared threatening to the observant bird with exceptional vision. An eagle can see an animal the size of a rabbit running from three miles away, according to the Wabasha-based National Eagle Center.

Nine minutes later, that same eagle was back, but in a different pine near the lake and on the other side of the patio. Once again, I managed one photo before the majestic bird took flight.

Two symbols of America: the flag and a bald eagle. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo July 2025)

I never tire of seeing eagles, whether flying or statue still. They are truly majestic. Regal. Commanding respect. And they are our national bird, a designation officially signed into law on December 23, 2024.

Throughout our week-long cabin stay, I observed bald eagles flying above Horseshoe Lake multiple times. Sometimes high above the water. Other times descending toward the surface, fishing for fish. I hoped I would see a fish grasped in eagle talons. I didn’t. Nor did I see the eagles any closer than that first afternoon at the lake.

On the drive back to Faribault, Randy and I spotted many eagles soaring above the land, especially around Mille Lacs Lake. I couldn’t help but think of the eagle’s spiritual and cultural importance among Native Americans. Strength. Courage. Wisdom. All are equated with eagles.

A bald eagle flies over Horseshoe Lake in the Brainerd lakes area. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo July 2025)

This wondrous national bird is so common now that I’m no longer surprised when I see one flying in and around Faribault or elsewhere in Rice County or in Minnesota. Yet, despite frequent sightings, I never tire of seeing a bald eagle. There’s something about this bird with an average wingspan of 6-7 ½ feet, piercing eyes and curved beak that makes me pause, take notice and appreciate their fierce, unyielding strength and beauty.

© Copyright 2025 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

In praise of monarchs, milkweeds & fireflies July 16, 2025

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A monarch butterfly feeds on a milkweed flower. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)

ON A RECENT AFTERNOON, I looked up from washing dishes and out the kitchen window to see a solitary monarch butterfly flitting among milkweeds. Something as common as a butterfly remains, for me, one of summer’s simplest delights. Along with milkweeds and fireflies.

A monarch caterpillar on milkweed. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)

This year I have a bumper crop of milkweed plants growing in and along flowerbeds and retaining walls. I stopped counting at 24 plants. I have no idea why the surge in milkweeds. But I am happy about their abundance given monarchs need milkweed. It is the only plant upon which the monarch lays eggs and the sole source of food for monarch caterpillars.

A crop of milkweeds in a public garden. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)

My farmer dad, if he was still alive, would likely offer a different opinion about milkweeds. As children, my siblings and I walked rows of soybean fields eradicating milkweeds, thistles and the notorious cocklebur. This was called “walking beans,” a job that we hated, but was necessary to keep fields mostly weed-free without the use of chemicals.

I never considered then that I might some day appreciate milkweeds, the “weed” I pulled from the rich dark soil of southwestern Minnesota. On many a hot and humid afternoon, sweat rolled off my forehead and dirt filtered through the holes of my canvas tennis shoes while hoeing and yanking unwanted plants from Dad’s soybean fields and on my cousin John’s farm.

Today I instruct my husband not to pull or mow any milkweed plants in our Faribault yard. Randy understands their value, even if he didn’t walk beans on his childhood farm. He more than made up for that lack of field work by picking way more rocks than I ever did. Morrison County in central Minnesota sprouts a bumper crop of rocks compared to my native Redwood County, where I also picked rocks.

A milkweed about to open. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)

But back to milkweeds. I love the scent of the dusty rose-colored common milkweed. So if you drive by my Faribault home or walk through River Bend Nature Center or Central Park or past Buckham Memorial Library and see me dipping my nose into a cluster of milkweed flowers, that’s why.

As summer progresses, I’m curious to see how many monarchs soar among the milkweeds in the tangled messes of plants that define my untamed flowerbeds. Thankfully our next door neighbor appreciates milkweeds also and is OK if the wind carries seeds onto his property.

Fireflies glow in the garden art honoring my nephew Justin. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)

I’ve already seen fireflies aplenty in our backyard, which abuts a wooded hillside. And recently, while driving home in the early dark of a summer evening, Randy and I saw hundreds of fireflies lighting up grassy road ditches. It was truly magical, reminding me of childhood sightings and of Eric Carle’s children’s picture book, The Very Lonely Firefly. I had a copy for my kids, battery included to light up firefly illustrations. And, until it stopped working, I had a solar-powered firefly garden sculpture honoring my nephew Justin, who loved light and fireflies and died at age 19 in 2001 of Hodgkins disease.

Often what we love is about much more than simply whatever we love. I see, in writing this story, that my love of milkweeds, monarchs and fireflies connects to memories. Summer memories. Farm memories. Family memories. These are the stories we carry within us, that help define who we are, whether we consider a milkweed to be a weed, or a flower.

TELL ME: What simple summer things delight you and why?

© Copyright 2025 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Honoring the legacy of Congressman John Lewis July 15, 2025

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In 2020, I photographed this inspirational message, right, by John Lewis on a home in Dundas, a small town just south of Northfield. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo August 2020)

HIS WORDS AND ACTIONS should inspire all of us to do better, be better, both as individuals and as Americans. “He” is Georgia Congressman and civil rights leader John Lewis, who died five years ago on July 17.

Looking through a window into an exhibit space at Flaten Art Museum at St. Olaf College, Northfield, where I toured this photo exhibit 10 years ago. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo 2015)

Today I honor this man who left a legacy of strength in voice, power in actions and examples of righting racial injustices. In 1965, Lewis marched across the Edmund Pettus Bridge in Selma, Alabama, for voting rights for Blacks. He coordinated voter registration drives, led the Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee. And in 1986, Lewis was elected a U.S. Congressman, a post he held until his death.

A portion of a photo by Steve Somerstein whose work focused the traveling exhibit I saw at St. Olaf in 2015)

This son of Alabama sharecroppers and recipient of the Presidential Medal of Freedom in 2011 was remarkable in his determination, in his commitment, in his desire to right wrongs and improve the lives of Blacks.

But what Lewis brought to this country extends beyond a singular issue. He understood the value of each individual voice and used his voice to make sure others understood that what they say and do matters.

In the years since his death, I’ve researched the congressman. And in doing so, I’ve discovered statements he’s made that resonate strongly. Here are a few examples:

“…get in good trouble, necessary trouble and help redeem the soul of America.”

“You must be bold, brave, and courageous and find a way…to get in the way.”

“My greatest fear is that one day we may wake up and our democracy is gone.”

“Never let anyone—any person or force—dampen, dim or diminish your light.”

I find each of those four statements especially empowering. They are calls to action. Messages meant to end complacency. Encouragement to each of us to speak up, to be heard. To shine our lights in our neighborhoods, communities, state, nation and world.

The faces of the Civil Rights Marches and Movement include Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. This photo by Stephen Somerstein was part of the Selma exhibit.

And if we ever feel that our voice is only one, that our words aren’t heard, that our actions don’t matter, Lewis offers this message: “Do not get lost in a sea of despair. Be hopeful. Be optimistic.” Hope and optimism. Such positive words that are easy to read, but not always easy to believe. Yet, Lewis would want us to believe that things can get better.

In honor of Lewis, “Good Trouble Lives On” rallies are planned nationwide on Thursday, July 17, including here in Minnesota. The event is a national day of nonviolent action to respond to the current attacks on civil and human rights. From small towns like Madison in far western Minnesota to the Twin Cities metro and many other communities across the state, people will gather to let their voices be heard. Rallies in southeastern Minnesota are set in New Ulm, St. Charles, Winona, Stillwater and Northfield, the nearest to me. The Northfield protest is from 6-7:30 p.m. at Ames Park in the downtown area.

For more information about “Good Trouble Lives On” and to find a rally site, click here.

“Get in good trouble” and honor U.S. Representative John Lewis, a remarkable human being whose light still shines in America, strong and radiant.

© Copyright 2025 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Songs of Hope brings messages of peace, love & respect to Minnesota July 9, 2025

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Selections from Jamaica included “Linstead Market” and “Stand Up For Your Rights” at a 2014 Songs of Hope concert in Faribault. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)

HOPE. IT’S A POWERFUL WORD. A universal word. A word that is both noun and verb. Likewise, music is universal in the power it holds.

On Tuesday, July 15, the power of those two words comes to Faribault in a 7 p.m. free performance (donations are encouraged) by Songs of Hope at the Cathedral of Our Merciful Saviour. The high-energy international performing arts group, which is part of a six-week summer camp in St. Paul, presents songs with messages of peace, love and respect. Therein lies the hope. You’ll leave this show feeling hopeful, that perhaps we can all get along if we work at it, embrace one another and our differences, and follow the lead of these young people.

Song and dance from Vietnam. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo 2014)

Youth performers from Italy, Vietnam, Guatemala, Jamaica, Turkey, Israel, China and the USA will sing and dance their way into your hearts. I know. I’ve seen this global group perform locally. They’ve been to Faribault multiple times on their out-state Minnesota tour. They uplifted me and gave me hope, along with joy.

The group’s mission is “to share musically the global cultures of its young singers in concerts that mix traditional and popular songs from many countries with English-language songs chosen sometimes to entertain and sometimes to provoke thought.”

Artistic Director Jeanne Junge says, “…when we’re choosing the songs in English, we are careful to include a rich mix of messages, because we feel strongly that audiences need to know that young people in every country see the violence and injustices around them, and they want a better world.”

Isn’t that what we all want? A better world. These select youth, some as young as ten, make this a better world via their concerts. Yet, that they even have to think about, witness and/or experience violence and injustices troubles me. But that is reality world-wide today.

From Italy… (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo 2014)

I encourage you to take in the Songs of Hope show with its song, dance and cultural dress if you have the opportunity. Additional public performances in southeastern Minnesota are set for 11:45 a.m. Wednesday, July 16, at LARK Toys in Kellogg (a 20-minute show) and full shows at 7 p.m. Thursday, July 17, at the State Theatre in Zumbrota and Friday, July 18, at Potter Auditorium in Chatfield. To see a list of all upcoming Songs of Hope concerts, click here.

© Copyright 2025 Audrey Kletscher Helbling