WHEN I RESERVED Theo of Golden through my regional library system, I ranked as number 300 on the waiting list for this New York Times bestseller by Allen Levi. I don’t think I’ve ever been on a longer reserve list.
But within about two months I had the book, recommended by my dear friend Valerie, in hand. She read it in four days. I finished this fictional story in 10 days, primarily because I took notes to write this review.
One would not necessarily expect a novel published in 2023 to still be so popular. But, after reading Theo of Golden, I understand its ongoing appeal. This is one of those books everyone needs to read. Let me repeat. Every. Single. Person. It’s that good.
EVERYONE HAS A STORY
Goodness, kindness and generosity center the story of octogenarian Theo who arrives in Golden, Georgia, from New York City. He soon settles in, slowly connecting, building friendships, bestowing blessings. He does that by purchasing portraits of locals displayed in a coffee shop and then arranging to meet the subjects beside a central fountain.
And that is where this story takes root. Theo looks into the eyes of the people he meets, draws out their stories, their sadness, their strengths in one-on-one conversations. He listens. He cares. He encourages. He gifts them with their portraits drawn by local artist Asher Glissen.
What’s important to emphasize here is that none of this is about Theo. He intentionally doesn’t reveal his last name. He artfully dodges questions about himself. The focus is always on the individual before him, the face he sees. Theo wants to hear the stories behind each face in every portrait.
THE IMPORTANCE OF LISTENING
That is one of the “lessons” that threads through this novel. How often do people try to one-up a story, shift a conversation onto themselves and away from the storyteller? Happens all the time. Theo values every individual, gives them grace, gives them voice. He listens intently, not with the ear of someone waiting to interject his own story.
He listens to Tony, Vietnam veteran and owner of the Verbivore bookshop. He listens to Ellen, who is experiencing homelessness but who is brilliant, artistically-gifted and worthy of hearing. He listens to Simone, a gifted student of the cello. He listens to Minnette with her own secrets and dream of becoming a mother. He listens indirectly to the story of Mateo Mandez, an illegal immigrant from Guatemala. Yes, this book is relevant to today.
Theo tells every person he meets during his bestowals of portraits that they are capable of saintliness. Imagine if you heard that. And when he encounters individuals while out and about and engages in “sidewalk chats,” he listens with genuine, not surface, interest.
RELATABLE, EMOTIONAL
I cried several times while reading this novel. The book is not without heartache, tragedy, cruelty, violence, meanness, disappointments and suffering. The stories therein are real. Often relatable. But it is a book which, at its core, centers on treating others with respect, kindness, goodness and love.
“DO UNTO OTHERS…”
As I read page after page, story after story in this remarkable first novel by Allen Levi, my mind kept returning to the title, Theo of Golden. Why “Golden?” The answer that repeatedly popped into my thoughts was “The Golden Rule” of “do unto others as you would have them do unto you.” The author quotes Scripture, the influence of Levi’s faith clear in his writing, but not in a preachy sort of way.
Today, more than ever, we need a book like Theo of Golden to remind us to be kind, loving, forgiving. To listen. To encourage. To uplift. To think before we speak or write. To be like Theo, the mysterious stranger who showed up in Golden, Georgia, and forever changed a community with his kindness.
THOUGHTS? I’d like to hear your thoughts on Theo of Golden, whether you’ve read the book or just read my, or another, review.
© Copyright 2026 Audrey Kletscher Helbling
Minnesota Prairie Roots 
On the protest line, twice on June 14 June 16, 2026
Tags: Appleton, commentary, democracy, faith, Faribault, Flag Day, ICE detention center, Interstate 35 protest, June 14, Medford, Minnesota, Minnesota Speaker of the House Melissa Hortman, No Kings Day protest, protest, protest signs
IF NOT FOR THE DATE, June 14, Sunday would have been like most Sundays for me. Off to early church, then bible study and back home for brunch.
But June 14, 2026, was not just another Sunday. This date marked the one-year anniversary of the politically-motivated assassinations of Minnesota Speaker of the House Melissa Hortman and her husband, Mark, and the shootings of State Senator John Hoffman and his wife, Yvette.
June 14 also marked Flag Day.
And June 14 marked another No Kings Day event, nationally a concert and locally several protests.
I began my Sunday in church, where the pastor’s sermon focused on love. That seemed a fitting topic given the day. I jotted notes, taking away the key point that true love is “the willingness to do good.” The pastor applied that to both the love between and among people and the love God has for us as sinners unworthy of his love. Of course, the sermon got much more in-depth. I left church and bible study feeling loved and more determined than ever to show love in my actions. And words.
A quick change into jeans, a tee, denim jacket and tennis shoes and hair pulled into a pony tail and baseball cap placed atop my head, I was ready to join the weekly protest along Minnesota State Highway 60 in Faribault. The organizer changed the usual 11 a.m.-noon Saturday protest to Sunday because of the national No Kings Day event.
Randy and I were ready with new signs, mine themed to the national event wording: Rise up. Sing out. I added “Resist.” I’ve been publicly resisting the actions of the current administration for more than a year now. I cannot imagine remaining silent and therefore complicit.
Forty of us stood strong outside the Rice County government services building on Sunday, holding our protest signs, conversing, listening to Vietnam era protest music strummed on a guitar and sung by several protesters. It felt empowering to be there among like-minded individuals, raising our voices, trying to make a difference, creating awareness and, yes, showing love.
Love came in a heartbreaking sign carried by a little girl whose friend was deported to Mexico with her family. “Protect our friends,” her message read. She’d drawn, with the help of her mom, two girls holding hands. One brown, the other white. Two pink hearts filled out the poster.
This is love, when a little girl creates a love-filled message that calls upon adults to “Protect our friends.” Urging us “to do good.”
I carried a similar two-sided sign, NO ICE PRISON IN APPLETON stenciled on one side, RISE UP, SING OUT, RESIST on the other. Plans are underway to open an ICE detention center in an abandoned private prison owned by CoreCivic in Appleton in far western Minnesota. The little girl who carried the sign asking us to “Protect our friends” is likely unaware of this planned prison. She knows only that someone took her friend, whom she misses.
This little girl is among the reasons we protest. We care about our children, about the country they will inherit, about our democracy.
Five hours after the Faribault protest ended, Randy and I stood with 10 others on a bridge over Interstate 35 by Medford, each of us holding a single letter to spell out two messages: NO WAR and NO KINGS. As 25-30 southbound vehicles per minute zoomed by below, we stood strong with our letters plastered against the fence, small American flags in between, large American flag flying in the brisk wind at the beginning of our line. Down the road in Owatonna, a similar group faced northbound traffic on the Bridge Street overpass with the same messages.
It felt good to be here, to make new friends, to commiserate, to uplift, to wave, to show travelers on the interstate below that we love this country enough to protest threats to democracy, injustices, war,…the abundance of words and actions that are anything but loving.
© Copyright 2026 Audrey Kletscher Helbling