WITH TWO DAYS until St. Patrick’s Day, there’s still time to pull off some leprechaun magic. The type of magic that will bring joy into someone’s day, just like it did mine eight years ago.
Let me explain by first qualifying that I am neither Catholic nor Irish. But I do like the color green. In fact, it’s my favorite hue. And I do have some really loving friends.
On St. Patrick’s Day 2015, I opened my living room curtains to a field of shamrocks planted in my yard. I dashed outside on that sunny March morning without an inch of snow on the ground (yes, unbelievable in Minnesota) to solve the mystery.
My route took me through the garage and past our van parked in the driveway. Tucked behind a windshield wiper was a shamrock. Onward I went toward that field of green, centered by one oversized three-leaf clover. I’VE BEEN SHAM ‘ROCK’ED read a printed message on that central shamrock.
Immediately I suspected one of two young families. It didn’t take long to determine that Jesse and Tammy and kids had undertaken this St. Patrick’s Day surprise. Young Jack signed his name with his words, “You are smart.” Oh, Jack, you little leprechaun.
The happiness I felt, the overwhelming love I felt for these dear, caring friends touched me in a way that left me smiling all day. That they would craft these paper shamrocks and then volunteer Jesse to sneak into our yard before daybreak, before he commuted to his job in the metro, to plant these clovers impressed me. What kindness. What love.
I realize the time remaining until St. Patrick’s Day is short. But if you have the time and inclination, I encourage you to “shamrock” a neighbor, a friend, anyone in need of a little joy. Personalize the shamrocks with messages that uplift. I assure you, the recipient will feel gratitude for your loving act of kindness. I did. Eight years later, that March 17 remains memorable. I was gifted not with the luck of the Irish, although shamrocks symbolize good luck, but rather with happiness by a friendly family of leprechauns.
© Copyright 2023 Audrey Kletscher Helbling
Minnesota Prairie Roots 
A bouquet of kindness July 23, 2026
Tags: act of kindness, commentary, Faribault, floral bouquet, flowers, kindness, Minnesota, phlox, stories
THE OTHER MORNING, after I finished baking a batch of oatmeal chocolate chip cookies, I stepped outside into an ideal summer day. The temp hovered around 70 degrees with a sky that transitioned from sunny to cloudy and back. Freshly-laundered sheets and towels hung on my backyard clothesline. All was good in my world.
But it was about to become better. Not because anything extraordinary happened. Rather a decision I made to pick a bouquet of flowers flipped my day into a feel-good, generous day.
I grabbed a clippers from the garage, headed to my messy front yard flowerbeds and started cutting phlox. The purple, pink and white flowers run rampant among equally untamed ferns anchored by hydrangea.
As I clipped and gathered, I breathed in the strong perfume scent of these flowers that some may consider weeds—only if they are unwanted—but which I love. They are, simply put, lovely.
Once I had a sizable clutch of phlox, I started back to the house. And then I saw her, the young woman walking down the sidewalk towards me. In that moment, I decided my fresh floral bouquet would be hers. I asked if she was heading home soon. She was.
I extended the flowers to the 20-something, told her I wanted her to have the bouquet. I advised her that the phlox were delicate, might last a few days. She thanked me, smiled the most beautiful smile and said she would put the flowers in water as soon as she got home.
Our interaction, our conversation, was brief. Yet, it was deeply meaningful. To be able to give something to a stranger, to extend kindness, uplifted me. I hope the young woman felt likewise.
I watched my new acquaintance walk away with her flowers, then went back to clipping phlox. I gathered a bouquet for myself, all the while thinking about the importance of kindness, even small, spur-of-the-moment acts of kindness that can flip a day for the giver as much as the recipient.
TELL ME: Please share your kindness stories. I’d like to hear how you’ve either given or received kindness recently.
© Copyright 2026 Audrey Kletscher Helbling