Minnesota Prairie Roots

Writing and photography by Audrey Kletscher Helbling

Up North at the cabin, a Minnesota summer tradition July 22, 2026

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Identifying signage for some of the property owners along Horseshoe Lake. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo July 2026)

FOR MANY MINNESOTANS, going Up North to the lake cabin for a week in the summer is a time-honored tradition. They go to the same mom-and-pop, or luxury, resort. Stay at the family cabin. Or camp at a private campground or state park.

Mission Tavern, a local gathering spot just south of the cabin. We have not been here. Yet. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo July 2026)

They fish. Swim. Boat. Hike. They dine out and shop and play hard. It’s all part of the experience.

The northwoods cabin where we stay each summer. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)

Seven years ago, I finally joined this Minnesota summer-time phenomenon when a sister-in-law and brother-in-law purchased lake property and opened the on-site cabin to family. Every summer since, Randy and I have headed to Horseshoe Lake south of Crosslake in the Brainerd lakes area for a week-long get-away.

A warm welcome banners a business in Garrison, on the way to the cabin. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo July 2026)

I’ve grown to know and love this region of north central Minnesota, decidedly different than southern Minnesota. Here woods and pristine lakes define the landscape. Narrow tree-lined gravel roads trail into the woods. Personalized signs identify cabin locations. Boats, bait and beer are common refrains.

The sun rises over Horseshoe Lake in Crow Wing County during a previous visit. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)

For those of us who come here to vacation, this place provides a respite from everyday life, a peaceful place to plant ourselves for a bit. Lounging lakeside. Dining lakeside. Drinking coffee as the sun rises over the lake. Reading lakeside.

Loons in Horseshoe Lake south of Crosslake. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)

Here the unique call of loons carries across the water. Here rods bend as weighty fish take bait. Here the sun sets on a campfire complete with s’mores. Here time has no clock.

Grandpa and grandchildren follow the pine-edged driveway in one of my favorite cabin photos. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)

And for me, cabin life means, above all, being with family. Our eldest daughter, her husband and their two elementary-aged children join us for several days. I love sleeping under the same roof, the grandkids in a loft, the adults in two bedrooms.

We gather around the campfire for s’mores and stories. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)

I love gathering around the same table for meals. Grilled pork chops, burgers, hot dogs, veggies and, one evening, take-out pizza. I brought banana bread and chocolate chip cookies from home to share. And this stay we picked up a made-from-scratch-daily Grandma Bettie Jane’s blackberry/peach pie from Schaefer’s Foods in Nisswa to celebrate the son-in-law’s birthday.

Grandpa fishes with the kids. This year they each reeled in sizeable bass, which were released. Another lunker fish snapped the line. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)

I love playing games. Some numbers game dreamed up by math whiz Isaac, 7, who seemed determined to stump Grandma. Or BUILDZI, a tabletop game challenging players to stack uniquely-shaped blocks into a tower. No bumping the table, please. And when the grandkids left and quiet settled in, Randy and I played Yahtzee.

Copper Cats Escape Games in Brainerd offers three escape rooms rated by level of difficulty. The one available happened to be the easiest of the trio, perfect for newbies. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo July 2026)

But before everyone left, when extreme heat confined us to the indoors, the daughter suggested booking an escape room at Copper Cat Escape Games in Brainerd. I’ve always wanted to try this mystery endeavor. And so we did, looking for, solving and following clues to unlock locks, eventually leading us to Granny’s secret recipe. There was no sitting in a rocking chair for this Grandma. I was in the thick of the action, good at finding, not so good at deciphering. It was a whole lot of fun, earning a top rating from me.

Moonrise over Horseshoe Lake near Crosslake. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)

Not so easy, though, was sifting through sand searching for a small plastic toy dinosaur that Izzy, 10, found in the lake, buried on the beach and then couldn’t find. Our efforts turned up nothing. But this search is now the stuff of family stories.

The Andersons have been making memories on Horseshoe Lake in the Brainerd lakes area since 1968. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo July 2026)

Up North at the cabin is about sharing stories, about connecting, about making memories and about understanding that, above all, family matters most.

TELL ME: Do you get away with your family to a special place each year? I’d like to hear. I should note here that I would love to have all of my family—the son and his girlfriend from Boston and the second daughter and her husband and our other grandson from Madison, WI.—together with us at the cabin. Maybe some day…

© Copyright 2026 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

About that chocolate bunny & other Easter stories April 1, 2026

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An inflatable Easter bunny photographed in Courtland (west of Mankato) many Easters ago. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)

LAST EASTER I FAILED as a mom. I failed to mail a chocolate bunny to my adult son who lives in Boston. It wasn’t that I forgot, but rather that I didn’t want to spend the money for a chunk of chocolate which seemed overpriced at the time. I also really didn’t think my son cared all that much about getting a bunny from me. He did.

So this year, more than a week before Easter, I picked up a 3-ounce solid chocolate bunny for $2.97 and mailed it for $8.10. Not exactly fiscally smart. But sometimes you can’t put a price on tradition, love and expectations of a loved one.

A stained glass window inside Holden Lutheran Church, rural Kenyon, depicts the crucifixion of Jesus. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)

That got me thinking about Easter traditions, both secular and faith-based. Easter, for me, has always been a mix of each with the primary focus on celebrating Christ’s resurrection.

Eggs dyed with my mom several years before her death. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)

As a child, I dyed eggs with my five siblings and parents, something I continued with my three children. As a child, I set my repurposed yellow plastic cottage cheese container, filled with plastic grass, on the kitchen table. The next morning my siblings and I awakened way too early to search for our Easter “baskets” hidden somewhere inside our farmhouse.

I’m sure Mom would have preferred we slept in. But you can’t curtail a child’s excitement over getting candy, a rare treat back in the day. The goal was always to find our baskets before heading to worship services at St. John’s Lutheran Church in Vesta.

If we could get away with it, we inked our arms with temporary tattoos from the Easter egg dyeing kit. Mom preferred we wait until after church to stamp our skin. But we kids didn’t always listen.

We did, however, listen when Mom told us to get ready for church, the boys in their suits or other dress clothes and us girls in our Easter dresses and bonnets. Or as my sister still reminds me, in the ugly yellow daisy dress handed down from me to her.

My vintage 1960s purse, which I still have. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)

I still remember with great fondness the ensemble—a lime green skirt and jacket with a sleeveless floral top—stitched by my godmother one Easter. I carried a lime green purse, completing the fashionable look. Oh, how I wish I still had that 1960s outfit. Perhaps my granddaughter could wear it. Or maybe not. She might just tell me, “To be honest with you, Grandma…,” as she did recently about a frozen cheese pizza she didn’t like.

My favorite Easter hymn. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)

Once my siblings and I arrived at St. John’s in our Easter finery, we scampered up the steep steps to the balcony. There we joyously sang “I Know That My Redeemer Lives” with other Sunday School students. That remains my favorite Easter hymn.

While decades have passed since those childhood Easters back on the southwestern Minnesota prairie, the lessons I learned and the faith that grew inside me remain strong.

The risen Lord centers a trio of stained glass windows above the altar inside Trinity Lutheran Church, Wanamingo. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)

Now, as the aging matriarch of the family, I find our Easter celebration evolving. My eldest daughter and her husband often host Easter dinner. And if I don’t worship at my own church, Trinity Lutheran, I join her family for worship in their Lakeville church, ironically named St. John’s.

Halfway across the country, my son will likely be alone on Easter. But he will at least have the chocolate bunny I mailed to him from Minnesota, without fail this year.

© Copyright 2026 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

From proverbs to culture, native Tanzanian shares his insights & stories February 16, 2026

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Joseph Mbele shares stories, proverbs and culture on February 11 at Books on Central, Faribault. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo February 2026)

FABLES TEACH LESSONS. Fairy tales offer happy endings. And African proverbs impart wisdom.

Last Wednesday evening, Joseph Mbele, retired St. Olaf College professor of post-colonial literature, cultural consultant, author and storyteller, shared three African proverbs during a literary event at Books on Central. This man, who calls himself an African and a Tanzanian, held the rapt attention of attendees gathered in the used bookshop in the heart of downtown Faribault, home to many Somalis.

THE CROCODILE

While I enjoyed the two African folktales Mbele told, I really appreciated the proverbs. They are, by nature of a proverb, succinct. A few words carry a whole lot of punch. First up, this proverb: “Before you cross the river, don’t insult the crocodile’s mouth.”

Immediately the image of a crocodile’s sharp teeth popped into my mind. As it should have. This proverb, Mbele explained, is about being respectful to people in our relationships and in life in general. Be anything but respectful and we risk negative consequences. Snap.

THE BLACKSMITH

Second up this African proverb: “It’s because of man that the blacksmith makes weapons.” Thinking in African terms, the weapons would be knives and spears. I thought of guns. Mbele repeated the proverb, letting it sink into our brains. “It’s because of man that the blacksmith makes weapons.” The lesson here, Mbele said, is that we can be better than this—be kind, helpful and supportive—so we don’t need to bear arms/weapons. That’s an oversimplification, of course. But proverbs are not meant to be complex.

THE VISUALLY-IMPAIRED

Third, Mbele recited this proverb: “The one-eyed person only thanked God after he saw a blind person.” As someone with vision issues, that hit home. The proverb is a way of teaching gratitude, Mbele said. The contrast between seeing with only one eye and total blindness put the situation in perspective. The thought that there’s always someone who has it worse probably flitted through the minds of everyone in the bookshop.

THE STORYTELLERS

Mbele talked about the tradition of Africans sitting around telling stories to entertain and teach. Languages like his native Matengo, an indigenous language in Tanzania, are oral, not written. As he spoke, I began to understand the importance of folktales in African life. Stories connect people and, like proverbs, teach lessons.

Applied to my own community, Mbele explained that Somali men gathering on downtown Faribault street corners are simply socializing and sharing stories and are not to be feared. “It’s un-African to be by yourself,” he said of a culture that focuses on family and togetherness.

He even went so far as to say an African could be considered evil or a witch if living alone. That surprised me, but drove home the cultural importance of community and family. Now if only everyone in Faribault could hear these proverbs and insights from this native Tanzanian. Then perhaps they would not fear that which they don’t understand, like the Somali elders gathered on street corners downtown telling stories, sharing news or simply sitting in each other’s presence.

© Copyright 2026 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Laughter & hotdish with The Looney Lutherans, then back to reality February 10, 2026

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Food plated at a potluck, including several hotdishes. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)

WHEN MINNESOTANS PREPARE FOOD for a potluck, they make hotdishes, not casseroles. Same thing, just a different word for a dish that mixes a protein, vegetables, noodles or rice all held together by a binding agent. That would be a creamed soup, in most instances.

Sometimes, though, hotdish comes not in food, but in entertainment. Saturday afternoon, The Looney Lutherans served up a hefty helping of humor, music, skits and audience participation to a sold out crowd at the Paradise Center for the Arts in Faribault.

A promo for the show presented in Faribault. (Graphics credit: The Looney Lutherans)

The two-hour show, “It Could Be Worse: A Looney guide to love, marriage and other relationships,” proved to be exactly what I needed. I needed to laugh. And I needed a pause from the reality of all that’s happening in Minnesota right now, although I still could not completely shut that out.

Before settling onto a folding chair at the back of the theater, I volunteered, opening an exterior door of the PCA as guests arrived, stepping in from the Minnesota cold. I’m a people person so I loved greeting attendees with warm words and a smile. Everyone smiled back, thanked me and that set the tone for a few hours in Paradise.

This was a show that, in the context of today, resonated with me. Using a food wheel, the Looney Lutherans showed and explained how each of us fit different food categories all centered around a singular food. Hotdish. That visual made total sense to me as a life-long Minnesotan. Whether we are Scandinavian or Bohemian; Lutheran or Catholic or no faith; Caucasian, Hispanic or another skin tone; extroverted or introverted, we are all just people.

The Looney Lutherans, Bella, left to right, Lois and Ginger, with their “instruments.” (Photo credit: The Looney Lutherans)

As the trio of Looney Lutheran performers sang “We are family,” I felt that loving, human connection. No matter our differences, we are all still part of humanity. The audience joined in, even me who can’t carry a tune.

In that moment of upbeat song, I felt hope. I felt happiness. I felt joy.

And when the show closed with the Minnesota phrase of “It could be worse,” I recognized the truth in that, even as bad as things are right now in Minnesota. I’d gotten a reprieve from reality for several hours.

Then I stepped outside—to hear incessant and prolonged honking of horns and yelling in the heart of downtown Faribault. My mindset shifted. Immediately.

© Copyright 2026 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

The Boss Baby, aka Everett, turns one January 21, 2026

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Everett and his Boss Baby-themed birthday cake. Photo intentionally cropped to only show a portion of Everett. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo January 2026)

I OCCASIONALLY CALL HIM “darling Everett.” His parents sometimes call him “Sweet Pea.” He is my grandson Everett, who recently turned one and whose birthday we celebrated in Madison, Wisconsin, on Sunday.

For one day, he was also “The Boss Baby.” That 2017 movie themed Everett’s party with watching the film a prerequisite for party-goers. Everett likely could have cared less whether he was a birthday boss. He did, however, look adorable in his upper management tuxedo style onesie worn for photos only. The size two suit was too small and couldn’t be bottom snapped onto his nearly 30-pound lengthy body. So off it came shortly after the party began.

Everett has been above average in size since birth. His wide chest and 10-pound birth weight complicated his delivery with my daughter nearly dying due to severe postpartum hemorrhaging that required three units of blood. So, yes, this party brought back memories of Everett’s difficult birth and how thankful we all are that his mama survived.

Everett gets messy eating his birthday cake. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo January 2026)

Here was this beautiful baby boy a year later strapped into his high chair fisting a thin slice of a custom made Boss Baby three-layer cake, all eyes on him. As we—parents, maternal grandparents, aunt, uncle, cousins and a family friend—gathered round to sing “Happy birthday,” Everett took it all in. And I felt the love that comes with celebrating someone you love deeply and widely.

Next to Everett’s birthday banner, his mama hung photos she took each month to document his growth during his first year of life. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo January 2026)

I know I am biased as Everett’s grandma. But he is one cute baby with a head full of blonde curls. He was born with dark, straight hair. In the past year, this one-year-old has grown and changed so much, as babies do. Everett began walking on his birthday and by party day moved with confidence. His new-found skill brought many a smile.

Guests played a customized BINGO game created by Everett’s mom. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo January 2026)

It was a joy-filled afternoon for all nine of us gathered on a cold January afternoon in eastern Wisconsin to celebrate Everett. We laughed, took lots of photos of the birthday boy while he ate his cake and sort of opened gifts. We played Everett BINGO, a customized game that tested our knowledge of the birthday boy. He could have been a Felix or a Cora. Ceiling fans once mesmerized him. His favorite Pokemon is Pikachu, according to his two young Minnesota cousins.

These are the memories I hold now of my grandson’s first birthday party, the memories I carried back to my southern Minnesota home a four-hour drive away. I miss Everett already. I also missed out on holding and cuddling him because he would have none of that. From anyone. He’s become a mama and daddy’s boy in the presence of anyone mostly unfamiliar to him, dear family or not. That was hard on me. I wanted to scoop Everett into my arms, hold him, read to him, do all those things grandmas do with their grandbabies. I recognize this as a phase because Everett’s mama was the same way at this age.

For now I hope frequent video calls will grow Everett’s trust of me. His oldest cousin Izzy, 9, has an even better idea: Move closer to family. If only The Boss Baby would make an executive decision to relocate hundreds of miles west to Minnesota. Or at least far western Wisconsin. The Minnesota division of his company would appreciate that immensely, thank you.

© Copyright 2026 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

A tree full of memories December 22, 2025

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The Memory Tree at Trinity Lutheran Church, Faribault. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo December 2025)

WHEN THE PAPER ANGELS come off the tree, the personalized ornaments go up. From Angel Tree to Memory Tree, an artificial tree standing in the narthex of my church, Trinity Lutheran in Faribault, morphs each holiday season.

From Angel Tree to Memory Tree. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo December 2025)

First, my long-time Bible study group assembles and decorates the tree which serves duo purposes. From this tree, people choose paper angels upon which anonymous identifying information is printed. Age, sex and Christmas gift ideas. People who pick an angel then buy gifts and bring them back unwrapped. My bible study group wraps most with some left unwrapped as nonprofit social service organizations request.

This mini John Deere tractor honors Harland. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo December 2025)

Once this project is done, the tree becomes a Memory Tree, a place where people can honor loved ones via a personal ornament tagged with the name of the deceased and his/her death date.

Barb ran a local hair salon. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo December 2025)

I love this idea because we have all lost loved ones whom we miss, especially during the holidays. The ornaments on this tree are a visual reminder of our loss and love. This tree represents communal grief. To acknowledge and share grief is to find our way toward healing.

Marv loved living in the country and farming. His youngest daughter and her family now live and farm on the family farm. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo December 2025)

This Christmas, may the memories you hold of loved ones now gone bring a smile to your face, joy to your heart, perhaps even tears to your eyes. We grieve because we loved. Hold onto the memories, hold onto the love.

© Copyright 2025 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

My writing publishes in Minnesota literary anthology, again October 16, 2025

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Two of my poems and a work of creative nonfiction are published in this literary anthology. (Book cover sourced online)

FOR THE 16thCONSECUTIVE YEAR, my writing has been selected for publication in the Talking Stick, a literary anthology published by the Jackpine Writers’ Bloc based in northern Minnesota.

The editorial board chose two of my poems, “Up North at the Cabin” and “Where There’s Smoke, There’s Fire,” and a work of creative nonfiction, “Birthing Everett,” for publication in volume 34, titled Toward the Light. The recently-released book features 128 pieces of writing by 76 writers either from Minnesota or with a strong connection to the state.

I consider it an honor to be published in the Talking Stick, which includes the work of talented writers ranging from novice to well-known. I especially appreciate that entries are blind-judged so each piece stands on its own merits. There were 275 submissions from 119 writers for this year’s competition.

Grandpa Randy and grandchildren Izzy and Isaac follow the pine-edged driveway at the northwoods lake cabin. This is my all-time favorite cabin photo. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo 2020)

I’m particularly excited about two of my pieces published in Toward the Light. Anyone who’s ever spent time at a lake cabin will enjoy my “Up North” poem as it centers on nature and family togetherness. I was in my sixties before I first experienced cabin life. Now I’m building memories with my grandkids each summer at a family member’s lake cabin. That centers this poem.

My grandson Everett, nine months old, plays with his toys in his Madison, Wisconsin, home. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2025)

A grandchild also focuses “Birthing Everett,” a deeply personal story about the birth of my 10-pound grandson in January. My daughter Miranda nearly died during childbirth. I knew I needed to write about this to heal from my own trauma of nearly losing her. I will be forever grateful to the medical team at UnityPoint Health-Meriter Hospital in Madison, Wisconsin, for saving Miranda’s life. You just don’t think of women dying during childbirth any more, but it can, and does, happen.

My three recently-published works bring to 39 the total number of poems and short stories I’ve had printed in the Talking Stick. Toward the Light is available for purchase online by clicking here.

© Copyright 2025 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

A boy by the lake with a shovel August 27, 2025

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Isaac on the beach at Horseshoe Lake, rural Merrifield, Minnesota. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo August 2025)

SOMETIMES A PHOTO isn’t perfect. And this one certainly isn’t, at least not technically. The image of my 6-year-old grandson is not sharp. And that’s because I was sitting a beach away, zooming in with my cellphone camera.

My 35 mm Canon was inside the cabin. I knew I would either have to shoot with my phone or miss the moment. I opted to click the white circle on my Android.

Why do I love this photo, despite its technical flaws? I love the moment in time I’ve captured of my young grandson. Isaac was busy digging in the sand at lake’s edge when he paused. I don’t recall the reason he stopped shoveling. And that in itself holds appeal as those who view the image can imagine what Isaac is seeing to his left.

I remember the set up of this scene, though. Randy and I were on lakeside grandparent watch while Isaac’s parents headed into Nisswa for coffee. We were all vacationing together at a family member’s Horseshoe Lake cabin in north central Minnesota. Isaac’s older sister was inside the cabin reading.

The day was cold with a strong wind churning the water. Not a day for swimming or for sunbathing. But, for Isaac, it was still a good day for digging in the sand. He kept venturing closer and closer to the lake, water lapping at his pant legs. I asked Randy to roll up Isaac’s pants.

There’s something about a boy by the water, pants legs rolled up, shovel in hand that speaks to carefree days of summer, to youthfulness and to simple child’s play in the great outdoors. I love seeing kids playing outside, away from video games and electronics. I’m all for handing a child a stick (or a shovel) to encourage creative play.

I love this photo also because it tells a story in a simple and uncomplicated scene of water, sand, shovel and boy. Photography, for me, is often about storytelling.

I like the composition of this photo, too, with Isaac off-center, the sand pile on the right side of the frame. And then the wavy lake seemingly takes on a personality of its own like a threatening intruder. But Isaac didn’t let the moody lake, the cold day or the strong wind deter him from his work.

As with any photo, lighting ranks high. I like the lighting in this image. I like the simplicity of the photo.

Even though not technically perfect, this photo holds what’s most important to me—love. Do you see it?

© Copyright 2025 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Vacation memories & southern Minnesota connections August 26, 2025

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An angler fishes in Horseshoe Lake, rural Merrifield, on an August evening. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo August 2025)

IN MID AUGUST, Randy and I headed nearly 200 miles north of Faribault for our second stay of the summer at a family member’s cabin in the Brainerd lakes area. This trip our eldest daughter and her family joined us for several days. There’s nothing quite like time with the grandkids at the lake. Time to play, to relax, to make memories. And that we did. I cherish our days together Up North.

We mostly hung out on the beach or in the cabin. Weather conditions were not ideal with cool temps and strong winds prevailing when all six of us were there together. Yet, we got outdoors—the kids running along the sandy beach, digging a hole along water’s edge, enjoying the placid water on a warm and sunny day before the weather changed.

Looking upward toward the pines from a lakeside hammock. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo August 2025)

MAKING MEMORIES

I led the 6 and 9-year-olds on a scavenger hunt. We searched for a feather, a mushroom, a nest…that which nature offers like a gift if only we pause to see and appreciate. Randy taught Isaac to play Marbles on a homemade wooden board. It’s a long-time favorite of the extended Helbling family. We played Yahtzee and Connect 4, on an over-sized outdoor board. The puzzlers among us (not me) pieced together a lemonade stand. We headed into town for massive scoops of ice cream, a cabin tradition. And one day we picked peas from our sister-in-law and brother-in-law’s plot in a community garden. Later I taught Isaac how to shell them. The kids delighted in a timed Ninja course at a Crosslake playground and posed for photos behind Paul Bunyan family cut-outs at another park. We devoured s’mores around the campfire.

A campfire is the place to share stories, create memories. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo August 2025)

This is the stuff of memories. Simple. Uncomplicated. Mostly unplanned. Moments that connect us, deepen bonds.

Moody clouds at sunset over Horseshoe Lake. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo August 2025)

Being outdoors, away from home and work and schedules and the demands of everyday life, opens us to the joys of vacationing. The haunting call of a loon and the sighting of a bald eagle perched atop a pine proved exhilarating. A bank of moody, pink-tinged clouds slung low in the evening sky drew all of us to focus on and admire the scene.

A mural in Crosby. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo August 2025)

MORE CHERISHED MOMENTS

When the grandkids and their parents left several days before us, our world seemed too quiet. No more kids scampering up and down the loft ladder. No more requests to go to the beach. No more…

But, sans kids, there were still moments to be cherished. Lakeside dining with friends at Breezy Point. Popping in to chat with a Faribault friend who lives in Nisswa now and works for the Chamber of Commerce. And then a chance encounter with adults with disabilities on an outing at Mission Park, rural Merrifield. I learned that visually-impaired Shannon, who uses a white cane and carries over-sized yellow sunglasses, likes to sing. I asked her to sing for me. And she did—to a movie soundtrack of ”My Heart Will Go On” by Celine Deon. I thought my heart would burst with joy as this young woman first mouthed the words, then sang them quietly and then louder as I encouraged her. It’s one of those moments I will forever treasure. Me nearly in tears and everyone inside that picnic shelter smiling during this impromptu weekday morning concert.

A mural by Adam Turman in downtown Crosby highlights recreational activities in the Cuyuna Lakes area. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo August 2025)

SOUTHERN MINNESOTA CONNECTIONS ON THE RANGE

On the way home, there were more delights during a stop in Crosby, an Iron Range community that is evolving into a destination with its many outdoor activities, shops and murals. I spotted a mural by Minneapolis artist Adam Turman, whose work can be found on murals in Northfield and on Faribault Mill products. He’s a favorite muralist of mine. I saw also, much to my delight, Faribault Mill blankets and Caves of Faribault cheeses in separate shops. I felt Faribault-proud seeing those wool blankets and exceptional cheeses for sale in Crosby.

ICE CREAM, GREEK STYLE

But it was the homemade ice cream—Rave Creamworks’ Super Premium—at Victual in Crosby that got rave reviews from me. Randy and I shared a large scoop of Baklava ice cream laced with flaky phyllo dough, chopped walnuts and honey. It is the shop’s bestseller among 24 choices, so said the teen behind the counter. I loved this creamy ice cream, which I expect my friend, Father Jim Zotalis at the Cathedral of Our Merciful Saviour in Faribault, would appreciate given his Greek heritage. Baklava is a Greek pastry. Even in that ice cream I felt a connection to southern Minnesota. We can leave home, but we never really do.

© Copyright 2025 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Reunions galore & why they’re important to me August 12, 2025

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At a previous Helbling reunion, I pulled stories from a family history book to display. Some of the stories were part of a family history trivia contest I planned. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)

THERE’S SOMETHING TO BE SAID about the importance of family reunions. They allow us to reconnect, to celebrate, to reminisce, to build new memories, to support, encourage and appreciate one another and our shared histories.

A snippet of a photo from the July 1938 family reunion in Courtland attended by 511 Bodes. My grandparents, Lawrence and Josephine Bode, are in the center of the picture, between the adults holding the babies. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)

THE BODE FAMILY

My first reunion of the summer was a small gathering with a maternal aunt, uncle, cousins and my youngest brother and his wife in south Minneapolis. Aunt Rae, my godmother, was in town from Missouri. Over a table laden with breakfast foods, we talked and laughed and then afterwards moved to the screened in porch for more catching up and a discussion about the current state of affairs in this country. Mostly, though, we talked family. Since my mom’s death in 2022, I’ve felt even more the need to stay connected to her siblings and their families.

The annual Kletscher reunion always starts at noon with a potluck. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)

THE KLETSCHER FAMILY

The next reunion happened on the last Sunday of July. The extended Kletscher family met in Echo, a small southwestern Minnesota town some seven miles north of my hometown. There, in a community center, we filled tables with homemade foods for a noon potluck. Afterwards, I circulated in an attempt to talk to nearly everyone in attendance. This reunion has been going on annually for probably seventy years or more. I don’t always make it. But I try to because I’d rather see my cousins and my remaining aunts and uncle at a happy event rather than at a funeral.

A photo board displayed at a Helbling reunion several years ago. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)

THE HELBLING FAMILY

And then there is the Helbling reunion, held last weekend at a nephew’s rural Faribault acreage. This gathering brings my husband Randy’s family together from all across Minnesota and the country. Our son flew in from Boston. Our second daughter and her family arrived from Madison, Wisconsin. Others came from Michigan, Missouri and North Dakota. This event happens annually. And each year family members travel from all over to see each other, which says a lot about just how important family connections are to all of us.

Jams and jelly won in the family raffle. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo August 2025)

This year organizers changed things up a bit by replacing BINGO with a raffle of homemade/home-grown foods and goods. There were cookies, banana bread, multiple jams, wine, honey, engraved stones, crocheted animals, garden fresh potatoes, salsa and more, including canned rabbit meat. I brought an anthology that included five pieces of my writing. Randy brought a bottle of Cry Baby Craig’s hot sauce, an allowed raffle item given it’s made in Faribault.

Everyone went home with something. But perhaps the best part of the raffle was the money raised for the Community Action Center in Faribault via the sale of $5 raffle tickets. With $300 in raffle ticket sales and a company match by an employer, the CAC will be gifted with $600 from the Helbling family. This family cares.

Tom and Betty Helbling, circa early 1950s.

I love my husband’s family. They are a genuinely loving, kind, caring, compassionate, generous and supportive group. During the reunion, we shared family updates while the kids bounced in a cow-shaped bouncy house. During a corn hole tournament, Tristan and his teammate once again walked away with the “trophy,” a mini corn hole board. My six-year-old grandson showed me how to pound nails into a round of wood in a game of hammerschlagen. My granddaughter and I watched baby ducks swim in a pond next to a menagerie of poultry, goats and two black sheep. Kids shot rockets high into the air. Adults gathered in lawnchair clusters to chat. Slowly, as the sun set, family members began to leave. I left feeling so loved.

The evening prior, the siblings and their spouses met at the Craft Beverage Curve in Faribault for food, drinks and conversation. The new addition to the reunion proved popular. Family raved about the setting. I felt a deep sense of pride in my community. But mostly, I felt the love of the Helbling family which I have been part of for 43 years. Tom and Betty Helbling would be proud of the family they started. And they would be happy that, on the second Saturday in August each year, their family reconnects at a reunion.

© Copyright 2025 Audrey Kletscher Helbling