I photographed this peace van parked outside a shop near Garrisonthis past summer. It took me back to the 70s. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo 2025)
I CAME OF AGE in the early 1970s near the end of the Vietnam War. Those were years of national protests and pushing for peace. Young people, especially, embraced the word “peace”—in speech, in fashion, in actions. Like so many other teens of my era, I flashed the peace sign, wore peace-themed jewelry, drew the peace symbol on the covers of school notebooks. I once wrote a poem about peace, long forgotten now and tucked into a cardboard box among other long ago musings.
Love the message on the tee worn by a member of the Jackson Paulson Band when they performed at a Faribault Car Cruise Night this summer. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo 2025)
Lately, I’ve been musing about peace during these tumultuous times in which we live. So I challenged myself to look around for that which uplifts, enlightens, makes me smile. Gives me a sense of peace.
Harmony is a synonym for peace. This mural is on Minnesota’s Iron Range in Crosby. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo 2025)
I found what I sought in art, actions and, most of all, words. I am, after all, a wordsmith. Someone who works with words. Building, shaping, sharing. Someone who understands that words hold great power to build up or destroy. Someone who understands that words matter. Greatly. They can inspire, give us hope, offer peace. Or just the opposite.
Nerstrand Meats sits several blocks from the school in the heart of downtown Nerstrand. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2025)
With peace on my mind, I revisited the Peace Garden at Nerstrand Elementary Charter School in the rural farming community of Nerstrand, population not quite 280 and perhaps best known as home to 135-year-old family-owned Nerstrand Meats & Catering.
This green space centers the Peace Garden outside the school entry. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2025)
In 1999, the school was established as a peace site with the garden started in 2000 on the front lawn. That’s 25 years now of honoring peace. In words, art and plantings, this garden features 14 countries.
A unifying message posted at the Peace Garden. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2025)
Signage at the garden emphasizes that we all live under the same sun and moon on the same planet. We are all connected and all part of building a world “to make everyone proud.” That includes the U.S., Russia, China, Mexico, Canada… This is not a political message posted outside this small town Minnesota elementary school. Rather, this is a simple statement about those of us who call planet Earth our home.
To the right, Ukraine’s national flower, the sunflower, flourishes. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2025)
I arrived on an autumn day looking for the newest addition to the Peace Garden. Ukraine. And I found it near a picnic table and bike rack—a yellow and blue (the colors of the Ukrainian flag) planter filled with towering sunflowers past their summer prime. As I paused and read the singular word “Kiev” on a sign, I thought of the people of Ukraine. Oh, how they must yearn for peace in the midst of ongoing war.
Sunflowers grow around a sign naming Ukraine’s capital city. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2025)
Peace on an international scale feels elusive, as it’s always been. But then the same can be said nationally. Disagreements have flamed into much more than differences of opinion.
While the word PEACE was photographed from the back (because I couldn’t get a front angle), it holds the same meaning either way. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2025)
Yet, here I stood outside a school where children grow their knowledge, begin to understand that this world is much bigger than Nerstrand or Rice County or Minnesota or the U.S. I’m thankful that each day, as these student walk into school, they see the word “PEACE” atop the roof.
Lovely landscaping, flowers and plants surround the art honoring China with an inspiring message. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2025)
These children are our future. Perhaps they will grow to make peace marks upon their communities, maybe even the world. Perhaps they will live just ordinary lives, living peacefully among others while doing good. There’s so much potential.
Peace, a universal word we can understand no matter our home country. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2025)
I needed to walk around the Nerstrand Peace Garden, take in the words, art, plantings. In the quiet of this small town where the school sits next to farm fields, peace feels possible.
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.
Rendezvous re-enactors visit near the pirate ship. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo May 2025)
I’M INTERESTED IN HISTORY, although not as much as my husband. He reads history-themed books, remembers historical dates and facts, and leaves a museum with more info imprinted on his brain than me. I learn about and retain history better when I can actually “see” and experience it. That’s why I find events like the recent Riverside Rendezvous and History Festival in Faribault especially appealing.
One of many tents where you could learn and also buy goods. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo May 2025)
That same connective shift is something I see happening more and more in history centers and museums. And that’s a good thing—to have interactive and creative exhibits that draw people into history. It is via connecting with our past that we begin to understand today.
Fur pelts and hats at the Mountain Man Hat Making tent. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo May 2025)
After attending the Riverside Rendezvous, I hold a deeper understanding of early life in Minnesota, specifically the Faribault area. Fur trading shaped the local economy. Those long ago fur traders and Indigenous Peoples got along, realizing they could help one another by exchanging goods. It seemed to work for a long time, until European settlers moved in, pushing the Dakota off their native land. Cultures clashed. War ensued. Everything changed.
This historian talked about whip making. His partner later cracked the whip. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo May 2025)
Change is inevitable. The Rendezvous provided ample visual evidence of that by focusing on everyday life in the 1700s and 1800s. Each encampment participant highlighted a specific area of yesteryear. And by that I mean a skill—like pounding metal, stitching leather, shaping hats and much more.
Jenna Nelson demonstrates candle making. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo May 2025)
My grandson layers hot wax onto a wick as he builds his candle. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo May 2025)
That included candle making, something my kindergarten-aged grandson tried. Under the watchful guidance of Rice County Historical Society Curator Jenna Nelson, Isaac dipped a wick into a pot of hot wax and then into a jar of cold water, repeating the process until he had a thickened candle.
This toy of yesteryear fascinated my young grandson as he adjusted the wooden figure in varying positions. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo May 2025)
Isaac also tried his hand at stitching a leather pouch, rug weaving and playing with toys of yesteryear. He smiled the entire time. He is very much a hands-on kid who loves creating. His older sister, not so much.
A tent full of books. bowls and hats for sale at the Rendezvous. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo May 2025)
But Izzy did race to a tent full of books and happily accepted rock candy from a costumed character at the axe-throwing station.
Lots of kids attended the Rendezvous. Here a young girl and her stuffed animal, wait inside Baby’s Indian Frybread tent. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo May 2025)
I give great credit to the Rendezvous re-enactors who engaged with all ages, who clearly know their crafts and who were excited to share their knowledge of both skills and history with attendees.
From rugged to well-dressed, period attire varied depending on character role-playing. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo May 2025)
I zoomed in on this lovely lady from afar, so I don’t know her story. But she was the most fancily-dressed at the Rendezvous. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo May 2025)
I saw lots of leather, fur, jewelry, piercings and tattoos. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo May 2025)
And that they played the parts by dressing in period costume certainly made the experience real, as in really stepping back in time. Just ignore the ringing cellphones.
Stitching a buckle on a leather belt, right, at a trading post type tent. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo May 2025)
I gathered in chatting with these historians that attending rendezvous is part of their way of life. They become like family to one another. I expect their love of these history festivals grows with each experience, each interaction. They are a friendly lot. Engaging.
Leather bags and blankets available at the leather stitcher’s booth. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo May 2025)
This approach to history carried me back to the past in a way I’ve not previously experienced. Visually, I saw history unfold before my eyes at the Riverside Rendezvous. And that I’ll remember.
The rope maker. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo May 2025)
An American flag flies in rural Minnesota. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)
I DEBATED FOR SEVERAL DAYS whether I should write this post, because it could be misconstrued as purely political. It is not. Rather this is a story about a grassroots gathering of people sharing information, ideas and opinions. Democracy at its core. This story is about us as Americans—listening, learning, agreeing or disagreeing, and letting our voices be heard.
Tuesday evening I attended a town hall meeting in Faribault hosted by DFL Senate District 19. It was open to everyone, regardless of political affiliation. But the crowd was decidedly Democrat, as you would expect given the hosting group. Republican Brad Finstad, who represents the 1st Congressional District in Minnesota, was invited, but did not attend. His district includes parts of Goodhue, Rice (where I live), Steele and Waseca counties in rural southern Minnesota.
Some 300 constituents packed the space, overflowing into adjacent rooms. Yes. Even I was surprised by the turn out. That tells me a whole lot of people have concerns about what is currently happening at the federal level and how government action is, or will, impact them. I expect not a single American will be untouched, whether directly or indirectly, by slashes in government personnel and funding and/or by changes in domestic and foreign policies.
A sculpture at the Northfield Area Veterans Memorial. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)
Town hall organizers lined up speakers to address topics covering a broad range of subjects affecting a whole lot of people and programs—farmers, education, healthcare, seniors, veterans, those with disabilities, communication, nonprofits and much more. I was impressed by how well prepared these speakers were with facts and statistics. I learned a lot.
A vintage voting booth in the former Northfield, Minnesota, town hall. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)
I’m not going to give you a detailed report of what each speaker said. Rather, I want to share several messages or phrases which really resonated with me and which should resonate with every American, no matter who they voted for. The phrase “we the people” was repeated by one speaker and embraced by the crowd. “We the people” means us. Americans, not members of one political party or the other. And, yes, I’m well aware of how those words from the preamble to the Constitution are being used politically as a mantra of sorts. But in this context, “we the people” references our right to speak up, to be heard, to tell our elected officials what we think and what we would like them to do as our representatives in Washington DC. That can be done by attending town halls like this; the meeting was video taped and will be sent to Representative Finstad. We can be heard via phone calls, emails and letters. We the people have power in our voices, in our votes, whether Democrat, Republican or Independent.
Photographed on a back country road near Morgan in southwestern Minnesota. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)
Secondly, a local educator asked the crowd and Finstad to ask themselves this question: “How are the children?” So, yes, how are the children, when many live in poverty, when federal funding for education is in imminent danger of being mostly cut, when…fill in the blank here? I think we can all agree that children are our future and we ought to care about their health, happiness, education and much more.
A pile of wheat. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)
Third, one of the speakers shared that, as someone of the Catholic faith, he is called upon to help others. He called upon Representative Finstad, who is also Catholic, to do the same. That means feeding the hungry (funding USAID, for example), protecting Medicaid and Social Security, etc. all of those ways and places we help one another as human beings in this country and abroad. Now I’m not Catholic; I’m Lutheran. Doesn’t matter. My faith compels me to show love, compassion and care for others, especially those in need. America once did that as a country. Generously. But that is changing. We have bounty and resources we can share to help starving children, to provide medical care, to help others in any way we can. It is the right thing to do as a nation blessed with great bounty.
Rural Rice County, Minnesota. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)
Fourth, a local farmer spoke about $3.2 million in contracts with farmers in our district which have now been broken by the U.S. government. The consequences will be devastating to those farmers who have already invested those federal monies in their operations. Trust has been broken, she said. I think we can all agree that when a legal contract is broken, it’s a breach of trust.
A symbol of freedom, an eagle sculpture at Veterans Memorial Park in Morristown, Minnesota. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)
There’s so much more I could share from that town hall session. But I want to conclude with this. I encourage you, if you have the opportunity to do so, attend a town hall meeting. Listen. Learn. Engage. Let your voice be heard. Remind your elected officials, too, that they need to listen, learn and engage.
FYI: A second Town Hall Meeting hosted by DFL Senate District 19 is set for 6 p.m. Sunday, April 6, at Mineral Springs Brewery, 210 N. Oak Ave., Suite 1, in Owatonna. It will follow the same format as the Faribault Town Hall with a moderator, speakers and an open mic. Representative Brad Finstad has been invited.
UNTIL MY ELDEST ALERTED me around noon today, I was unaware that March 15 marks a notable day. At least for me and the millions of others worldwide who suffer from long COVID. Today is International Long COVID Awareness Day.
I’ve been living with long COVID for more than two years now. And in that time-frame, I’ve attempted to raise awareness about this debilitating chronic condition. I will continue to do so, because it’s important for others to understand. With understanding comes compassion and support.
My lengthy list of symptoms began after I contracted COVID in January 2023. I never self-tested positive for the virus. But that is not necessary to get a long COVID diagnosis. My primary care doctor and specialists ruled out any other medical reason for my varied symptoms. The connection to COVID was clear even to me, someone not particularly medically-inclined.
Today I am mostly fine, although I still struggle with residual issues, especially in the sensory area. It took six months of vestibular rehab therapy and lots of hard work to get me to a better place. During much of 2023, I thought I would never reclaim my life. I have.
IT TOOK A TEAM
But I didn’t do it alone. First, I credit Dr. Todd Sykora at Allina Health, Faribault, for not giving up on me, for showing great compassion and care, admitting that he didn’t have the answers. His concern for my health ran, still runs, deep. His decision to refer me to physical therapy saved my life.
At Courage Kenny Rehabilitation Institute in Faribault, I met physical therapist Ryan Iverson who, among other areas, specializes in vestibular issues. He was the perfect fit for me and the symptoms I was experiencing. To hear him say that my symptoms were like those of someone suffering a traumatic brain injury was validating. And then the hard work began, week after week for six months. Like my primary care doctor, Ryan showed great compassion and care.
SHOW COMPASSION & CARE BECAUSE LONG COVID IS REAL
If I want to make any point here, it’s that individuals living with long COVID need the compassion, care and understanding of family and friends. What we face is real. Difficult and debilitating. Without the support of my husband and eldest daughter, I could not have managed those first nine months of living with long COVID. They did a lot for me and always supported and encouraged. If my other two adult children lived in Minnesota, I know they would have offered the same.
Today I use my experiences to encourage a young man in my community who has been dealing with long COVID for 1.5 years. He’s had to drop out of college. He’s had to, on occasion, use a wheelchair. He struggles with fatigue and brain fog and much more. I referred him to my therapist, Ryan, and he’s making progress. I also stay connected with this young man’s mom. I recognize that she needs support, too.
Thank you for reading this post. That shows you care and want to learn more about long COVID. Please support those who suffer from this chronic condition by, first, acknowledging their challenges and then encouraging them.
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IF YOU DEAL with long COVID (what are your symptoms?) or know someone who has this chronic condition, please share your thoughts. How are you managing or supporting? What do you want people to know? Let’s, together, raise awareness.
An imaginative depiction of a dragon on the merry-go-round at LARK Toys, Kellogg, perhaps not unlike dragons featured in fantasy novels. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)
I LOVE WHEN KIDS, like my 8-year-old granddaughter, Isabelle, love to read. It sets them on a path for success in school. If you can read, you can learn anything. I’ve always believed that, except perhaps when it comes to math. Reading didn’t help me there.
Book cover image sourced online.
But Izzy isn’t thinking about math; her dad is a math whiz anyway. Rather, she’s focused on reading for the love of reading a good story. On a recent visit, she could barely contain her excitement about Dragon Rider by Cornelia Funke. Izzy quickly finished the first volume in the series and then breezed through the next two.
A back-to-school display filled the bookshop windows at the start of the 2024-2025 school year. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo 2024)
There’s a story here about Dragon Rider. Izzy’s mom, my eldest, found the fantasy novel while we were shopping at Books on Central, a used bookstore run by Rice County Area United Way at 227 Central Avenue North, Faribault. All proceeds go to local nonprofits supported by the United Way. Initially, Izzy wasn’t too excited about the book. But soon after we arrived home, she was snugged in the recliner reading.
I photographed the poetry section, right, during one of my visits to the bookshop. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo 2024)
This is exactly what grandparents, parents and the good folks at Books on Central like to see. The volunteer-run bookshop just completed its first full year of operation with more than $30,000 in used book sales during 2024, according to lead volunteers Dave and Jeanne Campbell. That’s a whole lot of books considering kids’ books sell for a buck or two and adult books for a bit more.
Among the books I’ve purchased at Books on Central. The book on the left features a cover photo of an elevator moved from my hometown of Vesta onto a nearby farm. The book includes writing by Larry Gavin of Faribault. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo 2025)
I’m thrilled that the Faribault community and beyond has embraced and supported this used bookstore by donating books and by buying them. It’s a win-win for everyone. People can get rid of books they no longer need, find books to read and help their neighbors. Bookshop proceeds assist The United Way in their mission of focusing on financial stability, health and education.
Previously in the display window at the bookshop. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)
And education includes reading. The local United Way supports Dolly Parton’s Imagination Library, which provides a free book a month to registered area children for the first five years of their lives. Dolly’s Book Bash, an annual fundraiser to support the program, is set for Friday, January 24, with doors opening at 6:30 p.m. at the Northfield Ballroom. The event features music, line dancing, an auction and games.
Signs marking the location as a former jewelry store remained when the bookshop opened. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)
Back at Books on Central in Faribault, the bookshop is, in some ways, magical. The setting is in the former Dandelet Jewelry with beautiful built-in wooden shelving and drawers and a chandelier centering the space. In the back, kids have an area all their own to peruse the many books ranging from board books for babies to picture books to novels like Dragon Rider. The whole space feels inviting, enchanting.
This is a well-organized bookshop. Volunteers know the books and where to find them. Inventory changes often. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo 2024)
Sales of 2,661 books totaling about $9,000 in the last quarter of 2024 reflect the incredible support and enthusiasm for Books on Central. Those numbers are remarkable considering the bookshop is typically open only 24 hours a week and is totally volunteer-run. Volunteer hours in 2024 totaled 4,479.
Jeff Jarvis talks about the Dakota during a June presentation at Books on Central. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo June 2024)
This place is more than a volunteer-run used bookstore. It’s also a place to connect, to build community, to learn. Books on Central hosts frequent literary events featuring area writers. I attended a poetry reading by published poet, retired Faribault High School English teacher and friend Larry Gavin. I could listen to Larry read poetry all day. The way language flows from his mind to his fingertips to create poems, well, it’s magical. He has a radio reading voice that mesmerizes. I also listened to a group of Northfield poets read their poems at Books on Central. I heard local historian, writer and artist Jeff Jarvis talk about the Faribault Dakota. And I delighted in the engaging storytelling of native Tanzanian Joseph Mbele, a St. Olaf College professor, consultant and author of several books, his newest Chickens in the Bus—More Thoughts on Cultural Differences.
New signage was installed on the building in late 2024. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo 2024)
I love that my granddaughter enjoys going to Books on Central. She’s discovered it’s a special place where, if you look (or let your mom look), you’ll discover a silver dragon flying between the pages of a book.
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FYI: Books on Central is open from 11 a.m.-5 p.m. Wednesday-Friday and from 10 a.m.-4 p.m. Saturdays. Donated books are accepted, but must be in good condition. Volunteers sort and clean the books, determining which to stock. You will not find musty and moldy smelling books here.
First up upon arriving in Wabasso for my 50th class reunion, a photo with the roadside white rabbit sculpture. (Photo credit: Randy Helbling)
WE MAY NEVER PASS this way again. Ah, but we have. On a recent Saturday, I gathered with some 30 of my Wabasso High School classmates to celebrate our 50th class reunion. In Wabasso, a small farming community 45 miles west of New Ulm on the southwestern Minnesota prairie.
The front entrance to Wabasso Public Schools. The overhang with pillars was added after my days there. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2024)
The cover of my WHS yearbook. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2024)
Signage at the front of the school blends the old and the new. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2024)
I’ve attended many reunions through the decades since 89 of us graduated in May of 1974. I’ve enjoyed every gathering, especially those in latter years when no one cared any more about who was a jock or an academic achiever or a wild one or any label we may have carried through our high school days. Today we are simply individuals who share a history of attending school together. Learning. Having fun. Making memories.
The 1973 – 1974 Wabasso High School FFA chapter consisted of mostly male students. I am among the few females featured in this photo. I’m seated in the second row, third girl on the right. (Photo credit: WHS yearbook)
Coming of age in the 1970s during the Vietnam War, we were a bit of a rebellious bunch testing our teachers’ patience. I was among those who wore a prisoner of war bracelet, embraced the peace symbol, wrote anti-war poetry. Mostly, though, I was quiet, studious, a rule follower. But I did blaze the way for young women at my high school by becoming the first girl to join the WHS Future Farmers of America Chapter. Decades later, a niece would become the state FFA president.
We were given a lengthy tour of the school. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2024)
No one cared about any of that when we got together 50 years later, first touring the halls of our former school. Home of the Rabbits. Yes, Rabbits. Wabasso, meaning “white rabbit,” comes from the Dakota language. I’m proud of our school mascot, which is unique and connects to the history of the region. It honors the town name and the Dakota people who were the original inhabitants of this land and still live in the nearby Upper and Lower Sioux Indian communities.
This Rabbit mosaic once hung on the side of the front office counter. It now hangs in a school hallway. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2024)
The original Rabbit mascot on a gym wall. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2024)
Rabbit pride showcased in the gym. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2024)
As the superintendent of schools led us through the school, I found myself drawn to the many artistic renditions of Thumper, our rabbit mascot. I don’t care for the updated, fierce version that now graces a wall in the new gymnasium. It’s not that I oppose change. I just don’t like the mean look on the rabbit’s face, his appearance of being on steroids. No thank you. I much prefer the old rabbit, the one that appears gentle and friendly. Thankfully, plenty of the original Thumpers remain in a school building I barely recognize.
Oversized photos, including this one of the 1973 homecoming court, are displayed in a hallway of images. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2024)
Building additions, removal of the storied stack, shuffling and changing of classrooms altered the school significantly. The home economics room is now the art room. The shop a classroom. The cafeteria is new, spacious, bright and beautiful. And the new library, although much brighter and modern in appearance, holds far fewer books than the library of my high school years, something several of us noticed and mentioned to the superintendent.
The Roadhouse Bar & Grill sits on a corner along Wabasso’s main street. It’s an especially popular summertime spot with weekly roll-ins. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2024)
The reunion committee set up this mannequin wearing a Class of 1974 graduation gown. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2024)
This shows just a part of Meadowland Farmers Cooperative, which anchors the business community. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2024)
What I did notice, too, was a closeness I felt among classmates as we walked hallways and classrooms and even the old locker rooms. That feeling remained after the tour, down at the Roadhouse Bar & Grill. There we perused photos and memorabilia. Hugged. Laughed. Mourned the loss of 15 classmates. Built burgers at the burger bar. Gathered outside for a group photo. Clustered around patio tables for conversation as the sun set, brushing the sky in a subtle pink hue. All the while the ventilation fans from the grain bins across the street roared in a steady din.
Wabasso’s school song, printed on a gym wall. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2024)
“We May Never Pass This Way Again.” That titled the Seals & Croft tune we chose as our class song. It was our second choice. The administration nixed “Dead Skunk in the Middle of the Road.” There was no mention of skunks—at least that I heard—at our 50th reunion. But Rabbits, oh, yes, Rabbits. We are forever and always Rabbit proud.
The Betty, a mint-flavored Oreo ice cream treat, one of my favorites at The S’Cream. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)
AN ICE CREAM TREAT seemed in order after walking through Owatonna’s beautifully-redone, pedestrian-friendly downtown Tuesday afternoon. The sun shone bright on a day as ideal as they come in southern Minnesota. Yes, I could go for ice cream to cool off, not that I ever really need a reason.
So Randy and I headed to our favorite home-grown ice cream shop, The S’Cream.
But our stop at this busy walk-up shop turned out to be more than a pause in our day for a peanut butter sundae and a monster cookie dough Flurry. I struck up a conversation with Paisley and her grandpa (mostly Paisley) while Randy waited for our order.
A bus photographed near Morgan, Minnesota, and used here for illustration only. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)
I didn’t know the two. But I like to engage in conversation, even with strangers. I’ve met many interesting individuals this way. Paisley is no exception. She had just finished her first day of kindergarten and was celebrating with a vanilla/strawberry twist ice cream cone.
As Paisley licked her cone and I spooned cookie dough-flavored ice cream, we talked. First off, I asked about school, a day she summarized as “good and fun.” That led to my next question, “What made it fun?”
Well, Paisley explained, she brought a Barbie book home from school. That prompted me to stress the importance of reading. If you can read, you can learn anything, I told my new friend who is turning six in September. I shared that I also have a September birthday. To which Paisley shared that she’s celebrating her birthday all month long. True or not, I don’t know. But I do know this. Paisley doesn’t like spiders, including the one hanging out in her kindergarten classroom on Tuesday.
But that didn’t quell her spirit. Paisley was happy and animated and not one bit shy. I learned a lot in the time we ate our treats. Her backpack is purple and sports a “P.” She lives in the country, had three cats (one’s gone; I didn’t ask), has three semi trucks (one is “hers”; again, I didn’t ask) and has a loose tooth. Paisley wiggled a bottom front tooth to verify her claim.
The Blast, with locations in Owatonna and Northfield, is another popular ice cream spot. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)
This kindergartner was all wiggles. Understandable given her first full school day. She moved constantly while licking the melting ice cream that soon ran onto her hands. A few drips fell onto her shirt, a sparkly pink tee emblazoned with the word LOVE.
What a great message Paisley took to school. She exudes love. That gives me hope. Here’s a little girl who loves school and life and birthdays, especially birthdays. I felt absolute joy in her presence.
Forty-five miles away, my 5-year-old grandson also started kindergarten. He’s much different than Paisley. Quiet. Reserved. But he is no less enthusiastic about school. His mom, my eldest, shared this upon his return home: “Isaac said the school day felt like 3 minutes!” So, yes, he, too, had a good day, a fun day, summarized in that creative response to his mom.
Oh, the joy these kindergartners—one a stranger, the other a dear one—brought me on a beautiful September day in southern Minnesota.
I spotted this bee and other bugs on flowers in the Rice County Master Gardeners’ Teaching Gardens. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo August 2024)
ADMITTEDLY, I NEVER EXCELLED in science. I sort of just got by, learning what I needed to learn to get reasonably good grades in science class. But if I was to go back to the classroom, I’d listen more intently, ask more questions, figure out how the information I was taught actually related to me and my world. In other words, I wouldn’t simply absorb, regurgitate and then move on, which seemed to be the way subjects were taught when I was a student.
This sign drew me to the base of a tree, where I found an inn and a bee lawn. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo August 2024)
Bricks, stones, sticks and more comprise this haphazard housing unit. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo August 2024)
Identifying signage on the Invertebrate Inn. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo August 2024)
Now, as an adult, and an aged one at that, I realize that the core of learning is not memorization. It is rather taking in information that sparks interest, raises questions, causes independent thinking. I am still learning well into my sixties, this year marking 50 years since I graduated from high school.
I trust this structure would be a good home for a bug. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo August 2024)
Today I learn because I want to, not because I need to take some class for credits or to earn a degree.
The bee lawn was roped off when I visited. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo August 2024)
Signage on the tree explains a flowering bee lawn. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo August 2024)
Fitting floral rock art in the inn. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo August 2024)
My latest delve into science was prompted by a visit to the Rice County Master Gardeners Teaching Gardens in Faribault. There I spotted an Invertebrate Inn and a bee lawn, recent additions to the beautiful gardens located at the Rice County Fairgrounds. These are not exactly novel ideas. But I’d not previously considered them much and how they benefit the natural world. Low-lying bee lawns, with their clover and other flowers like creeping thyme, provide nectar and pollen for pollinators.
At the inn, a welcome sign for guests. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo August 2024)
In some ways, the inn and the bee lawn remind me of childhood days on the farm with our grass anything but weed-free and manicured. Dandelions and clover were prolific. No weedkiller or insecticides were used except on crops. No nothing applied to the grass, because who cared and who had time to nurture a lawn when there were crops to plant and cultivate and animals to tend?
Housing for more than just insects, isopods, bees, spiders, worms and other critters. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo August 2024)
Times have changed as farming and yard care have evolved. Insecticide and herbicide usage is prevalent. We would be naive to think this has not affected pollinators like butterflies and bees. And so when I discover something like a bee lawn and an Invertebrate Inn, I feel a spark of joy, a sense of gratitude for those who create them.
High rise housing. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo August 2024)
I want my grandchildren to understand that this world they’ve been given is one that needs to be nurtured and appreciated, taken care of in a way that perhaps my generation did not. Sure I celebrated Earth Day, wore Earth Shoes and spouted environmental platitudes of the 1970s. But did that really mean anything, make any long-lasting impact? It was a beginning, I suppose.
Frogs are banned from the inn. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo August 2024)
I want my grandchildren to ask questions in class, seek out information, learn in a way that is focused on curiosity rather than feeding back facts. I want them to care about the bees and the butterflies and the bugs.
There are other bee lawns, pollinator gardens, etc., in my community, including this one in Central Park. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo August 2024)
I want them to connect with nature, to understand that what they do, or don’t do, to the earth matters. I want them to get their hands dirty in the soil, overturn rocks, hold bugs, pick up worms, plant flowers and, most of all, appreciate this natural world of ours. The science of it. The beauty of it. The peace it brings to the soul. The joy it brings to the spirit. And I want them to care. Always.
Kindness rocks have been planted in gardens outside Most Holy Redeemer Catholic School. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 2024)
Recently I discovered an assortment of kindness rocks in flower gardens outside this small southern Minnesota school that educates preschoolers through eighth graders. The school sits across Vine Avenue West from a stunning Catholic church with the same name. I appreciate beautiful historic churches. And kindness rocks.
Hope, always hope, one of my favorite words. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 2024)
Most Holy Redeemer Catholic Church. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 2024)
You can feel the love that went into creating these kindness rocks. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 2024)
To say I felt excited about finding the church and rocks in Montgomery would be an understatement. Both inspire, offer hope, encourage. In today’s world, we need more of all three, along with compassion and plenty of kindness.
Words that need repeating. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 2024)
A while back, I began collecting kindness rocks, which are actually painted stones with inspirational words and/or art written/painted thereon. I collect these rocks with my camera, photographing them rather than taking them with me. Not all are meant to be taken.
Imagine reading these words when you are struggling. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 2024)
The students at Most Holy Redeemer filled my heart, mind and spirit with such positive thoughts via their artwork. Reminders to be kind, friendly, forgiving. Reminders to be hopeful and strong. Those words, especially, resonate with me as I’ve overcome much in the past year while dealing with long haul COVID and vision issues.
This encouraging message fits me perfectly right now. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 2024)
“You can and you will” read one message. That could have been/be my 2023-2024 mantra. I expect many others have been uplifted by short messages that grace these stones. “You matter.” “You are loved.” Even if you know that, to read those reaffirming words feels incredibly validating.
We all need to read these encouraging words. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 2024)
Life often isn’t fair. But we can all strive to be fair. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 2024)
Onward, fearlessly, never give up. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 2024)
I love that the students at Most Holy Redeemer are learning the value of positive thoughts and actions, sharing those in an artsy, public way on kindness rocks.
Inspirational signage in one of the gardens. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 2024)
Lilies. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 2024)
Flowers found on a kindness rock. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 2024)
The rocks are spaced atop mulch among flowers and shrubbery alongside the school. I was so focused on the kindness rocks that I paid minimal attention to the plants. And I love flowers. But then again, I suppose you could say these kindness rocks are flowers. Beautiful. Lovely. Flourishing. Blooming in a space where weeds have no place.
It’s all about kindness… (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 2024)
FYI: I was interviewed recently about kindness rocks by Katy Read, a writer for the Minneapolis Star Tribune. Her story about kindness rocks published online Friday morning and will be in print Saturday, June 22, in the Strib, on the Inspired page of the Variety section. She interviewed multiple sources, including those who create the rocks and why they do. Thank you, Katy, for spreading kindness with your wonderful feature story.
Minnesota Prairie Roots 
Finding peace outside Nerstrand Elementary School & elsewhere December 2, 2025
Tags: art, commentary, education, learning, Minnesota, Nerstrand, Nerstrand Elementary Charter School, Nerstrand Peace Garden, peace, school, small towns, Ukraine, words
I CAME OF AGE in the early 1970s near the end of the Vietnam War. Those were years of national protests and pushing for peace. Young people, especially, embraced the word “peace”—in speech, in fashion, in actions. Like so many other teens of my era, I flashed the peace sign, wore peace-themed jewelry, drew the peace symbol on the covers of school notebooks. I once wrote a poem about peace, long forgotten now and tucked into a cardboard box among other long ago musings.
Lately, I’ve been musing about peace during these tumultuous times in which we live. So I challenged myself to look around for that which uplifts, enlightens, makes me smile. Gives me a sense of peace.
I found what I sought in art, actions and, most of all, words. I am, after all, a wordsmith. Someone who works with words. Building, shaping, sharing. Someone who understands that words hold great power to build up or destroy. Someone who understands that words matter. Greatly. They can inspire, give us hope, offer peace. Or just the opposite.
With peace on my mind, I revisited the Peace Garden at Nerstrand Elementary Charter School in the rural farming community of Nerstrand, population not quite 280 and perhaps best known as home to 135-year-old family-owned Nerstrand Meats & Catering.
In 1999, the school was established as a peace site with the garden started in 2000 on the front lawn. That’s 25 years now of honoring peace. In words, art and plantings, this garden features 14 countries.
Signage at the garden emphasizes that we all live under the same sun and moon on the same planet. We are all connected and all part of building a world “to make everyone proud.” That includes the U.S., Russia, China, Mexico, Canada… This is not a political message posted outside this small town Minnesota elementary school. Rather, this is a simple statement about those of us who call planet Earth our home.
I arrived on an autumn day looking for the newest addition to the Peace Garden. Ukraine. And I found it near a picnic table and bike rack—a yellow and blue (the colors of the Ukrainian flag) planter filled with towering sunflowers past their summer prime. As I paused and read the singular word “Kiev” on a sign, I thought of the people of Ukraine. Oh, how they must yearn for peace in the midst of ongoing war.
Peace on an international scale feels elusive, as it’s always been. But then the same can be said nationally. Disagreements have flamed into much more than differences of opinion.
Yet, here I stood outside a school where children grow their knowledge, begin to understand that this world is much bigger than Nerstrand or Rice County or Minnesota or the U.S. I’m thankful that each day, as these student walk into school, they see the word “PEACE” atop the roof.
These children are our future. Perhaps they will grow to make peace marks upon their communities, maybe even the world. Perhaps they will live just ordinary lives, living peacefully among others while doing good. There’s so much potential.
I needed to walk around the Nerstrand Peace Garden, take in the words, art, plantings. In the quiet of this small town where the school sits next to farm fields, peace feels possible.
© Copyright 2025 Audrey Kletscher Helbling