Minnesota Prairie Roots

Writing and photography by Audrey Kletscher Helbling

Shining a light of hope at the pharmacy October 5, 2021

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Minnesota Prairie Roots file photo January 2021.

SHE VOCALIZED HER DISTRESS not to me specifically. But in general. In the pharmacy waiting area at a local grocery store.

I’d just arrived to get my seasonal flu shot, the powered-up version for those 65 and older, when a woman familiar to me expressed dismay over the price of her medication. Medication she couldn’t afford because she was on limited disability income. That much she shared publicly with those of us waiting. Hers was not a plea for help, but rather frustration released in words not directed at anyone. Simply spoken.

MY HEART BREAKS

In that moment, my heart broke. My empathy swelled. I recall standing at that same pharmacy window not all that long ago feeling overwhelmed by the cost of a necessary medication for a family member without insurance coverage or income. I was on the verge of tears. I didn’t turn away from the window then and unleash my despair. But rather I spoke my anguish to the pharmacy employee. And, on that day when I felt such angst over the price of a med, that caring employee found a discount that made the prescription affordable.

Now here I was, presented with an opportunity. I could ignore the distress I heard in someone I knew—but who didn’t recognize me in my face mask—or I could choose to help. I would like to write that I reacted immediately. But I didn’t. Rather I pondered briefly before reaching into my bag to remove a $20 bill. Money from a check I’d cashed a half hour earlier. Payment for photo rights sold at a discount to a nonprofit. Unexpected income that I could use, but which this woman needed more than me.

SUNSHINE

I called her by name, then extended my hand toward her with the $20. “Here, I want you to take this to help pay for your prescription.” She accepted with a smile. And a surprised look on her face. And a generous “thank you” shining a sliver of sunshine into the darkness of financial worry.

As I waited, she did, too. We didn’t converse further. Soon a pharmacy employee called her to the window. They’d found a generic brand of her medication. Presumably more affordable. She returned to me, to return the $20. I declined. “You keep it,” I said. And she did.

MEMORIES & GRATITUDE

Afterwards, when I shared with my husband about this encounter and my gift, I started crying. The emotion of remembering when I was that woman in line at the pharmacy rushed back in those tears. I recalled, too, how extended family and friends helped us during a challenging period in our family’s life and how I’ve felt the blessings of kindness and generosity from others (including those who read this blog). How loved and encouraged and supported I felt.

MEANT TO BE THERE

There’s another twist to this story worth noting. I initially planned to get my flu vaccine at the grocery store’s advertised drive-up clinic. But there was/is no drive-up clinic (much to my dismay). Because of that, I had to go inside the store to the pharmacy. That put me in the path of this woman—who lost her husband several years ago—and in a position to help. Moments like this happen for a reason. And even though $20 is not a lot of money, it was/is more about the uplifting of another human being. I hope my small gift brought her hope, showed that someone cares, that she matters. That even in the distress of financial worry, sunshine slants through the darkness.

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TELL ME: Have you had a similar opportunity to extend compassion or been the recipient of kindness? I’d like to hear. Now, more than ever, we need the sunshine of goodness shining into our days.

© Copyright 2021 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Sometimes you just have to walk away… January 9, 2020

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An especially bright spot in the heart of downtown Faribault is the Second Street Garden, a pocket garden with positive messages like this one. Minnesota Prairie Roots edited file photo August 2019.

 

BY NATURE, I AM a quiet observer. Not introverted. But a watcher, a listener, the person who mostly sits back, especially in a room filled with strong personalities.

But that doesn’t mean I embrace overpowering people, especially those who talk over and at others. That type of self-centered behavior bothers me, bothers being a tempered word choice. Lack of empathy, understanding and compassion hurt personal relationships, communities, countries. I see too many people driven by their goals, their agendas, their misinformed/uninformed assessments of others and of situations. Their “I’m right” and “I don’t care if I’m hurting you” perspectives.

How do you fix that on a personal level? The answer: We usually can’t. I’ve learned that unless someone is willing to engage in civil dialogue, it’s probably a waste of time to even have a discussion. I can only control how I react. And sometimes the best way to react is simply to walk away, to let it go, to extract myself from those who are toxic, who lack empathy and the ability to think beyond themselves.

The Minnesota Nice part of me screams, “That’s not very nice!” But the reality is that we all deserve respect. To be heard and understood and loved. Every. Single. One. Of. Us.

THOUGHTS?

© Copyright 2020 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

the power of laughter in healing June 20, 2018

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THE BEST MEDICINE for my days’ old injury of a broken left forearm came not in prescription pain medication, which I never picked up. Rather, it came in laughter, perhaps the best medicine of all.

First the backstory. On the day of my fall, Randy and I intended to head to our eldest daughter and son-in-law’s home an hour distant to babysit our granddaughter. Those same plans had been in place a week prior. But then I developed a bad upper respiratory infection and canceled. So I was especially excited about the rescheduled time with two-year-old Isabelle. Then I slipped on those rain-slicked wooden steps and broke my radius and…

Thankfully Izzy and her parents came to visit us the day after my fall. I wasn’t feeling all that great given only one hour of sleep Saturday night and a high pain level. But Izzy proved a good distraction. As we visited and Izzy played, she stumbled over a ball. Given the awkwardness of the tumble and her subsequent tears, I worried for a second. But she seemed ok, as in nothing broken.

 

One authentic broken arm, one not. Photo by Randy.

 

I asked Isabelle if she wanted her arm wrapped like Grandma. I expected a no. But Izzy said, yes, so Dr. Grandpa gathered supplies and wrapped her arm. Of course, we needed pictures, after Izzy pointed at my bandaged arm and then hers and counted, one, two.

We all laughed. Really laughed. Laughter is good. It releases endorphins, which my retired ER nurse friend Diane says promote healing. And I’m all about healing, especially the natural healing powers of a granddaughter’s sweet empathy.

 

Copyright 2018 Audrey Kletscher Helbling