Minnesota Prairie Roots

Writing and photography by Audrey Kletscher Helbling

A Banned Books Week commentary on free speech October 10, 2025

This American Library Association poster anchors the Banned Books Week display at my local library. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2025)

AS A WRITER, journalist and avid reader, I’m a firm believer in free speech. Never have I seen that right more threatened in America than it is today. It’s downright scary—efforts by the federal government to suppress voices (already occurring), promises of retribution (now being carried out), abuse of power (happening on so many levels) and much more that threatens our very freedoms, our democracy. I could go on and on.

But today I want to focus on Banned Books Week, which ends tomorrow. Thursday evening I gathered with a group of volunteers for an appreciation event at Books on Central in Faribault, a used bookshop founded by the Rice County Area United Way. While I don’t volunteer there (yet), I’ve blogged about the bookstore numerous times because I love books and I love that monies from BOC book sales help nonprofits in my area. We weren’t there to discuss banned books, though, but rather to celebrate volunteerism and this small bookshop which has become much-beloved by the Faribault community and beyond.

It was not lost on me as I sat there surrounded by books, listening to volunteers share their passion for this place and for books, that everyone who walks in the door is surrounded by choices. As it should be. Choose what you want to read or want to share with others.

A powerful and fitting quote for Banned Book Week displayed at Buckham Library. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2025)

Yet, there are individuals, organizations, elected government officials and others who want to determine what we can read by banning books from libraries, schools and elsewhere. That, my friends, is censorship. And I’m not OK with that. If I find the content of a book to be offensive, then I can stop reading it or never open it in the first place. Likewise parents can monitor their child’s reading materials just as they would online content.

A sampling of books that have been banned in various places in America. These were included in a display at my library. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2025)

In the words of the American Library Association’s 2025 Banned Books Week theme, “CENSORSHIP is so 1984.” That’s a reference to George Orwell’s prophetic 1949 novel, 1984, about a totalitarian government. That’s a simplistic summary. But the book is particularly relevant to today. I intend to check it out from my library to reread.

Bracelets available at Buckham Library support the RIGHT TO READ. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2025)

After the bookshop appreciation event Thursday evening, I stopped at Buckham Memorial Library to see if staff had created a Banned Books display as they have in the past. They did. After I read the information and looked at a sampling of books that have been banned (not from my library), I grabbed a green bracelet imprinted with this message: CENSORSHIP is so 1984. READ FOR YOUR RIGHTS.

I will continue to read. I will continue to write. And I will continue to embrace, support and advocate for free speech. I have a voice. I refuse to be silenced.

© Copyright 2025 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

The stories of two Marthas September 19, 2025

A promo for Martha Brown’s presentation about Cambodia sits on the checkout counter at Buckham Memorial Library, Faribault.

HISTORY CONNECTS THE STORIES of the two Marthas. One, Martha Ballard, a midwife and the main character in a book of historical fiction, The Frozen River by Ariel Lawhon. The second Martha is Martha Brown, local author, educator, speaker, musician and political candidate for state representative in my district. She shared her personal reflections about a trip to Cambodia on Thursday evening at the Faribault library in a presentation titled “Cambodia—Healing a Broken County.”

I’d just finished reading Lawhon’s book earlier Thursday so the commonalities between a story set in the late 1700s in postrevolutionary America and Brown’s recent trip to Cambodia connected in my mind. In both stories exist violence, trauma, strength, power and resilience within an historical context.

THE CAMBODIAN GENOCIDE

I’ll start with Brown. She focused on the time before and after the 1975-1979 Cambodian Genocide in which some 2 million Cambodians were murdered under the rule of Khmer Rouge, the Communist political party then in power. She also touched on the illegal and secret bombings of Cambodia by the U.S. in 1969 against North Vietnamese forces in Cambodia. That, too, claimed untold civilian lives.

I don’t want to get into historical details here or a political discussion about the Vietnam War. Rather, I intend the focus to be on those who suffered in Cambodia and those who survived. Just as Brown focused her hour-long talk. She arrived in Cambodia expecting to see trauma from the genocide. But instead, she said, she found recovery, healing and joy. She saw survivors of the genocide as part of the healing.

A HORRIFIC HISTORY NOT HIDDEN

The history of the genocide has not been hidden nor erased in Cambodia. “They don’t bury their history,” Brown said. I jotted that quote in my notebook, mentally connecting that to current day America and ongoing efforts by the current administration to erase/hide/rewrite history. We all know the quote—”Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it”—by Spanish Philosopher George Santayana. We would do well to contemplate and hold those words close.

In her presentation, Brown did not avoid the hard topics of children recruited and indoctrinated to participate in the Cambodian Genocide killings of educators, doctors, ordinary people, even those who wore eyeglasses. Perpetrators were never punished, went back to their lives, now live among the population. This was hard stuff to hear, especially about the brainwashing of children to kill. “We need to teach our children well,” said Brown, ever the educator who cares deeply about children.

LESSONS LEARNED IN CAMBODIA

Her passion was evident as she spoke of hugging survivors, of apologizing for the U.S. bombings of Cambodia, of crying while in the southeast Asian country. She learned that how you live and treat people is more important than wealth. She learned that people can be poor and still be happy. She learned about the differences in a society that focuses on community rather than self.

When Brown’s talk ended, others shared and a few of us asked questions, including me. Mine was too political to answer in a non-political presentation. But I asked anyway about the internal and external factors contributing to the rise and fall of empires. Brown hesitated, saying only that we could draw our own conclusions from her talk.

Book cover sourced online.

A MUST-READ BOOK

Then I wrote “The Frozen River by Ariel Lawhon” on a slip of paper. Not to give to Brown, but rather to the local director of Hope Center serving survivors and victims of sexual assault and domestic violence and their families. I handed the paper to Erica Staab-Absher after hugging her. “You need to read this book,” I said.

In this book of historical fiction, the author bases her writing on real-life midwife Martha Ballard, who documented her life in a journal. Ballard was witness to violence, sexual assault, injustices, secrets, manipulation, power, trauma and much more. This book will resonate with anyone who has survived a sexual assault or cared about someone who has been so viciously attacked. I cannot say enough about the value of reading this book and how empowering it was to me as a woman. It is a love story, mystery and a documentation of strength and resilience.

Resilience. Strength. Healing. Those three words come to mind as I connect the work of a New York Times bestselling author and a talk about the Cambodian Genocide at my southern Minnesota library. By reading and listening, I learned. To read a book pulled from the shelves at my public library and then to listen to personal reflections about a trip to Cambodia on the second floor of that same library are freedoms I no longer take for granted. Not today. I choose to remember and learn from the past. And hope we do not repeat it.

© Copyright 2025 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Politics, passionate voices & peach pie at a potluck September 9, 2025

A protester at the NO KINGS day rally in Northfield. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo June 2025)

MONDAY EVENING I GATHERED in rural Rice County with a crowd concerned about issues ranging from healthcare to immigration, agriculture, education, the environment, diversity, gun violence, the SNAP program, tariffs, voting rights, veterans’ benefits, the economy and much more. All current-day topics worrying many of us, including me.

I’ve never been politically active. Until this year. To stay silent now feels complicit. I care enough about this country, about freedom, about democracy, to let my voice be heard. I’ve participated in three pro-democracy rallies, including the NO KINGS Day Rally in Northfield and two on Labor Day in Owatonna. I’ve volunteered at a DFL Sweetcorn Feed in Faribault. I’ve donated to the DFL, called and emailed my legislators in Washington, DC. And Monday evening I attended a potluck, billed as a DFL Working Families Garden Party. This all from someone who previously voted primarily Republican. But no more, not in the past four Presidential elections or in some other past elections. I’ve always looked at candidates, their character and their stances on issues before voting. I still do, but party affiliation now matters to me, too.

Minnesota potlucks always include bars, like these at a previous event I attended. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)

DEEP CONCERN

At all of these recent events, I’ve heard—whether from politicians, candidates for office or ordinary people like me—a deep concern for our country under the current administration and those who go along with whatever our President says and does. This concern comes from good, decent people. Farmers, teachers, business owners, lawyers, blue collar workers, college students. People who carry crockpots of pulled pork and baked beans, bowls of creamy garden-fresh cucumber salad, peach pie and bars to a political party on a rural acreage.

As I sat in this bucolic setting Monday evening listening to short speeches from candidates like Martha Brown of Faribault, running for Minnesota House District 19A on the slogan of “Common-Sense Leadership for Working People,” or fiery Matt Little from Elko New Market who embraces the label of “radical” and who is running for Congress in the Second Congressional District or Ben Schierer of Fergus Falls, campaigning for state auditor and vowing to represent both urban and rural communities, I felt hope.

Minnesota Secretary of State Steve Simon speaks at the DFL Garden Party hosted by Ted Suss, right, near Nerstrand. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2025)

COMPASSION & HOPE

I felt hope, too, when I heard Minnesota Secretary of State Steve Simon talk about protecting voter information, voting rights and more. I felt hope when I heard Minnesota Senate Majority Leader Erin Murphy speak. As a nurse, her care and compassion for others threads through her speeches, shines in her political life.

A memorial banner honors the Hortmans, shot to death in June, and their dog, who had to be euthanized due to his injuries. Below the Minnesota flag hangs a campaign sign for Jake Johnson, who is running for office in Minnesota’s First Congressional District. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2025)

Most notable in Murphy’s talk, at least for me, is the deep grief she feels over the politically-motivated assassination of her friend and colleague, Minnesota Speaker of the House Emerita Melissa Hortman and Hortman’s husband, Mark. The Hortmans were shot to death on June 14, the day I protested in Northfield, despite warnings not to do so. I refuse to be silenced.

Murphy spoke on Monday evening against a backdrop of American and Minnesota state flags and a banner of the Hortmans and their dog with this message: STAND UP FOR JUSTICE AND PEACE. She talked, too, about attending the funeral on Sunday of Fletcher Merkel, 8, among two students killed in a mass shooting that injured 21 others at Annunciation Catholic Church in south Minneapolis on August 27. Justice. Peace. No more gun violence.

This sign from the NO KINGS rally in Northfield really resonated with me. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo June 2025)

UNPRECEDENTED

I’ve lived enough years to observe that what’s happening in this country right now is unprecedented. I’ve never felt more fearful of losing our freedoms under authoritarian rule. It’s happening already with snatching people off the streets, imprisonment and deportations without due process. It’s happening in intimidation and retribution; mass firings; suppression of free speech; funding cuts that are undermining research, healthcare, education and more; gathering of private information by the government; sending armed military into cities; and in countless other ways that affect all of us no matter our political affiliations.

This isn’t about rural vs urban. This isn’t about us vs them. This is, rather, about preserving and protecting our very freedoms as Americans. This is about caring and feeling hopeful. This is about speaking up. About doing something. And sometimes this is also about eating pulled pork, baked beans, cucumber salad and homemade peach pie at a potluck on a beautiful September evening in southern Minnesota.

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© Copyright 2025 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

As school starts for most in Minnesota September 2, 2025

I photographed this creative back-to-school front window display at Owatonna Shoes Monday afternoon. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2025)

HOW WELL I REMEMBER the first day of classes at the start of a new school year. Decades ago as a student. Then as a parent of three. And now as a grandparent.

As a student, I felt excited. Nervous. Happy. I remember the sharp tips of new Crayola crayons. The discomfort of new shoes. Piles of multi-colored notebooks awaiting words.

As a mom, I remember worrying if my kids would catch the right bus, make friends, like their teachers.

But none of that matches the concerns I feel today as the grandmother of a first grader and a fourth grader who begin classes Tuesday morning in a community in the south metro. The deadly shooting of two students and injury of 21 others (including three octogenarian worshipers) during a morning back-to-school Mass last week at Annunciation Catholic Church in south Minneapolis weighs heavy on all of us.

(Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2025)

Children, teachers and staff should feel and be safe in school. Parents should never have to wonder if their children will come home. Grandparents shouldn’t have to worry how their children, their grandchildren, are going to navigate all of this.

But school violence is all too real. And it shouldn’t be. I invite you to read a blog post by Kathleen Cassen Mickelson (click here), a mother, grandmother, writer, photographer, poet and activist. She writes with passion and clarity about the Annunciation shooting and gun violence, including steps we can take to change things. Kathleen’s words are powerful and move us to a place of action with the strong word, “Demand.”

As someone who grew up in Minneapolis, Kathleen writes from the heart. She is grieving. Angry. Frustrated. Just like me. Just like so many of us in Minnesota and beyond.

(Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2025)

To the politicians out there who put guns before kids and who vote against funding for mental health programs, pause for a moment and assess your priorities. Walk in the shoes of kids, parents, grandparents, teachers. And then think of Fletcher Merkel, 8, and Harper Moyski, 10, shot to death in a Minneapolis church during the first week of classes at Annunciation Catholic School.

© Copyright 2025 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

The day after a mass shooting…thoughts from Minnesota August 28, 2025

An inspirational word in an art installation honoring Barb Larson, shot and killed in 2016 inside her workplace, the Faribault Area Chamber of Commerce & Tourism. Used here for illustration only. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)

IN MY BIBLE, I highlight verses that resonate with me, that inspire, that uplift and offer hope. Those include Jeremiah 29:11. It reads: For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future. In faith communities, this specific scripture is often directed to youth, who are our future.

On Wednesday morning those words written by the prophet Jeremiah were shared by Matt DeBoer, principal of Annunciation Catholic School in south Minneapolis, following a mass shooting at the adjacent church. The shooter fired from outside through stained glass windows into the church, killing two students and wounding 18 others, including three parishioners in their eighties. All were attending a back-to-school morning Mass.

The churning Straight River, visually reflective of what we’re feeling now in Minnesota. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)

NEVER AGAIN”

This act of gun violence is nothing short of horrific. No one can deny that. Fletcher, 8, and Harper, 10, are dead. Seven others were critically injured, taken to a level 1 trauma center. All are expected to survive. The level of pain and grief and anger, yes, anger, we are feeling collectively in Minnesota right now is palpable.

In all the media coverage I’ve watched and read, I keep circling back to Principal DeBoer and his message at a late Wednesday morning press conference hours after the shooting. He shared the school’s Jeremiah 29 based theme for 2025-2026 of “a future filled with hope.” Hope happens to be one of my favorite words, but not one I personally relate to a mass shooting. Yet on Wednesday morning, the principal called for all of us to look to the future with hope, because we can’t change the past. I listened. I heard. I heard him say, “Never again.” I heard DeBoer ask us to commit those two words to our speech pattern. “Never again.”

And I heard, too, his call for action as he referenced this African proverb: When you pray, move your feet.

As the day progressed into evening vigils, I continued to watch television coverage. Clergy led a prayer service at the Academy of Holy Angels, a nearby private Catholic high school that Annunciation students often attend beginning in ninth grade. In a message also themed to hope, Archbishop Bernard Hebda mentioned the broad support received from those of all faiths—Protestants, Jews, Muslims… And from Pope Leo XIV. I would expect nothing less. We are all hurting.

Another vigil followed at Lynnhurst Park. As I watched television coverage begin, I focused on the diverse crowd. A young girl seated on the ground clutching a teddy bear. A priest in a wheelchair. Attendees sheltering flickering candles with their hands. People in bright orange t-shirts emblazoned with “Protect Minnesota.” Photographers working. A woman in a black tee with the simple word, “Enough,” and a slash drawn through a circled gun. Instrumental music played—”Bridge Over Troubled Water”—setting an introspective mood.

“Doing something” must be about our kids. Photo used for illustration only. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)

WE NEED TO…”

And then the line up of speakers stepped up, addressing the crowd. The mood at this vigil was decidedly different. This gathering focused on a call to action in oftentimes fiery and emotional speeches by politicians and local leaders calling for stronger gun laws. In all the thoughts shared, Minnesota Lieutenant Governor Peggy Flanagan’s message rose to the top for me. While she spoke the usual “You are not alone” and “Enough is enough,” here’s the one soundbite that sticks with me: “We need to love our babies and our children more than our guns.” That bears repeating. “We need to love our babies and our children more than our guns.”

On this, the morning after the murder of two children and wounding of 17 others at Annunciation Catholic Church less than an hour from my Faribault home, I reflect on Flanagan’s words. And I think of my own two elementary-aged grandchildren starting the new school year on Tuesday. I want them to feel, to be, safe. I want this gun violence to end. As the mayor of Minneapolis said, his is “a city united in grief,” which must now become “a city united in action.”

I hold hope that perhaps this time something will change. I understand that gun violence is complicated, that it involves addressing the root causes of such violence. Yet, if not for the guns—three used in the Minneapolis shooting—two children would still be alive.

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This story has been updated to include the first names of the two children killed in the shooting. Their names were released late Thursday afternoon. The number of injured has also been updated to 18.

© Copyright 2025 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

My heart breaks after another mass shooting, this time at a Minneapolis church/school August 27, 2025

I’ve photographed many stained glass windows in churches. I looked through my archives and found this image of a window at Mother of Good Counsel Votive Chapel, LaCrosse, Wisconsin and it struck me as fitting for this post. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo 2015)

I HAD MY MORNING PLANNED. Wash sheets and towels and hang them on the line. Pay bills. Write a blog post. I finished the laundry. But then all activity stopped and my attention focused to breaking news—a mass shooting in south Minneapolis.

For hours I’ve watched media coverage of events unfolding at Annunciation Catholic Church and School in south Minneapolis. Early today two school children were shot and killed during morning Mass. Seventeen others were injured, among them two adults. Four required surgery. Seven were in critical condition at Hennepin County Medical Center, a level one trauma center. Several went to other hospitals.

My heart breaks for the families, friends and classmates of the eight and 10-year-olds who were killed. My heart breaks for all who were part of and witness to this violence. Minneapolis Mayor Jacob Frey and Minneapolis Police Chief Brian O’Hara, who spoke at a press conference, echoed the same. Their pain and anguish were evident in their words, their voices breaking with emotion.

I was especially touched by Mayor Frey’s message that we must go beyond simply saying “thoughts and prayers” because, as he stated, these kids were literally in church praying. He’s right. I believe in prayer. But I also believe that caring and compassionate action must accompany prayer. Frey called upon all of us to wrap our arms around the affected families, to love and support them. These are not only Minneapolis families affected, but American families, he said, adding that these shootings happen far too often.

According to officials, the gunman, dressed in black and armed with a rifle, shotgun and pistol, fired from the outside through church stained glass windows, hitting victims sitting in the pews. The man, in his early 20s and with no known criminal record, is dead from a self-inflicted gunshot wound, according to the police chief.

Both the mayor and police chief used the word “evil” when describing this morning’s shooting. They also used words like “deliberate act of violence,” “unspeakable act,” and “unthinkable tragedy.” We’ve heard those words way too often following mass shootings that have occurred way too often. Once is too often.

My day goes on, not as I planned, but tinged now with deep sadness. I can’t shake the images of children emerging from Annunciation School with their parents, hands clasped, faces showing the deep pain they are feeling. They are forever changed.

This is tough. All of it. Something must change.

© Copyright 2025 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

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

(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

 

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

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

 

Shining kindness, beginning in Minnesota July 29, 2025

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

 

Commentary: Floods, alligators & an email July 7, 2025

Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo used for illustration only)

I HAVE SEVERAL THINGS on my mind today which are roiling my emotions. Not on a personal level. But on a broader, national scale.

First, I feel heartbroken over the loss of lives in Texas following flash flooding. The latest death count I’ve read is eighty-five, 27 of those children. Dozens remain missing. Most heart-rending are the deaths of the young campers at a summer camp. I think many parents, myself included, can relate to dropping a child off at camp with the full expectation that they will be there when we come to pick them up at camp’s end. For too many, a parent’s absolute worst nightmare—that of losing a child—is now reality. I feel for anyone who has lost a loved one in these floods, no matter their age. I am thankful for the 850 rescued thus far.

Titles of two photos in the “Testify” exhibit I saw. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo April 2025)

ALLIGATORS

Secondly, I’m deeply-troubled by the gloating and hype about “Alligator Alcatraz,” a deportation detention facility in Florida. Those in power have been flaunting the name, stating quite clearly what will happen to anyone who tries to escape. There’s nothing remotely “funny” about alligators attacking and devouring human beings. There’s nothing “funny” either about placing people in cages. But neither seems to bother those who are vocally promoting this facility in such a vile way.

As soon as I heard the words “Alligator Alcatraz,” I was reminded of a traveling exhibit, “Testify—Americana Slavery to Today,” that I saw at my local library in April. Within that exhibit was a studio portrait of nine unclothed Black babies and toddlers sitting or standing in one long line. The circa 1897 image by a photography studio was simply titled “ALLIGATOR BAIT.” I remember standing there, my jaw dropping in disbelief. The photo was right above another image, that one of the African-American 9th Calvary Regiment, ca. 1939.

Then I read the text below the two photos: The juxtaposition of photos heightens the irony of being hawked as unwanted, or “alligator bait,” while at the same time being drafted into a calvary regiment to serve in the name of the United States’ highest ideals. Historians have actually investigated to determine if African-American children were indeed used by hunters to lure alligators. The results were somewhat inconclusive, but the fact that research was needed is telling.

I wondered when I saw the “ALLIGATOR BAIT” photo how humans can be so cruel? I wonder the same today.

Hands of an octogenarian used for illustration only. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)

A TROUBLING EMAIL

Lastly, a few days ago I received an email from the Social Security Administration, which I initially thought to be phishing given the title, “Social Security Applauds Passage of Legislation Providing Historic Tax Relief for Seniors.” Turns out this was legit. I’m sure many of you got the same email.

As I read on, I couldn’t quite believe what I was reading—a clearly partisan piece of propaganda from an agency I thought was non-partisan. Not only that, the content was not complete or accurate.

Whoever crafted this email and thought it was OK to mass-send, it is not OK.

LET’S DO BETTER

There you go. This is what’s on my mind today, just days after celebrating the Fourth of July in a country I love, even with all its faults, atrocities, injustices and troubles. But we can, and must, do better. I believe we can.

© Copyright 2025 Audrey Kletscher Helbling