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.
Winds and blowing snow produce near white-out conditions during a past winter storm in southern Minnesota. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)
“I DIDN’T THINK it would be that bad,” Randy said. Neither did I.
But our drive to and from Minneapolis-St. Paul International Airport Thursday afternoon to get our son, arriving from Boston, proved difficult and stressful. Let me set the scene.
As we headed out of Faribault toward Interstate 35 shortly after lunch, freezing pellets pinged our windshield and the wind blew fierce, limiting visibility. And we weren’t even out of town.
A WICKED WIND
Once on the interstate, though, the precipitation soon stopped. But the wind gusted with such ferocity that I could feel it tugging at the van and observed semi truck drivers struggling to keep their rigs in their lanes.
Yet, the wicked 40 mph winds—or whatever ridiculous speed they reached—dried the pavement of the rain that fell earlier in the morning. That rain later transitioned to intermittent snow as temps continued to drop throughout the day. The morning temp started at nearly 40 degrees.
We detoured from our airport route to stop at our nephew’s house in Apple Valley to pick up a Christmas gift and stained glass supplies. Within that 45-minute visit, the weather worsened. But, surprisingly, our son’s flight arrived 15 minutes early. Here I’d been concerned about a possible late arrival due to weather conditions.
As we got onto Cedar Avenue aiming for the airport, traffic volume increased. We blended into the traffic flow, proceeding with caution like almost everyone else. Except the usual few motorists who do not drive for conditions. Snowplows were out sanding and salting and spreading whatever to de-ice road surfaces.
WAITING & MORE WAITING
I thought we would be late and Caleb would be waiting for us inside the terminal. But no. He was waiting for his luggage. We waited in the cellphone lot for a good half hour as he waited for his bags. Yes, a lot of waiting.
Eventually we were back in bumper-to-bumper traffic as vehicles crept toward passenger pick-up. This always feels like a game of chicken to me, trying to wedge into the gridlock so your loved one can see you and get safely to your vehicle. Eventually we reached door four, spotted Caleb, hefted his mammoth suitcase into the back of the van, placed the backpack behind the driver’s seat, grabbed a quick hug and started home.
AT LEAST WE’RE MOVING
Traffic congestion continued, although we were moving. And moving is always better than not. I just wanted to get home before the weather got worse, before rush hour traffic peaked and because, well, I really had to pee. It’s not the first time I’ve wished for a porta potty in the cellphone lot.
To move this story along, once we got farther out of the metro, past Elko New Market, traffic lessened. The wind still blew fierce and snow fell. We were in wide open country, rural Minnesota. The wind swept the snow away like a broom, leaving traffic lanes clean.
SNOW GATES
All was going fine until we got about 10 miles from Faribault. Visibility wasn’t reduced to white-out conditions, but wind-driven snow diminished visibility considerably in some spots. “I bet they closed the snow gates in Owatonna,” I said in the midst of all this. Snow gates, if you’re unfamiliar with the term, are actual gates pulled across the top of entrance ramps to keep motorists off the interstate during a winter storm.
I haven’t read any media reports that Interstate 35 snow gates were closed yesterday. But I did read of a multi-vehicle crash that happened on I-35 between Owatonna and Ellendale at 3:15 pm in blizzard-like conditions. That closed the southbound lane for three hours. Owatonna is a 15-minute drive south of Faribault.
We arrived home at 3:30 pm, safe and sound with an hour to spare before dark. Soon thereafter, our eldest daughter texted that no travel was advised in Rice County. We’d gotten home just in time as our county was now among many Minnesota counties in a blizzard warning. We cozied in for the night while the wind howled, me thankful that we made it to the airport and back without incident.
This morning we awoke to sub-zero temps. And a fresh layer of snow to shovel.
Audrey Kletscher Helbling with Santa at a Faribault grocery store. (Photo credit: Randy Helbling)
WHEN I SPOTTED SANTA at the grocery store yesterday, I decided to get my picture taken with him. You’re never too old for Santa, right? But the Jolly Old Man didn’t even notice me, so busy was he guzzling his Coca-Cola while marketing Coke products.
I hadn’t considered that Santa would need a side job, especially during the hectic holiday season. Isn’t managing the elves, feeding the reindeer, making public appearances, reviewing kids’ Christmas lists and packing the sleigh enough for one man to handle?
But I suppose Santa, like all of us, is feeling the effects of higher prices. He’s paying tariffs on parts the elves can’t make. Mrs. Claus needs baking ingredients that have skyrocketed in price. The North Pole toy workshop heating bill is likely high, even higher than in icebox Minnesota. So Santa probably welcomes the extra income from his grocery store side hustle.
Undeterred by Santa turning his back on me, I cozied up to him and asked my dear husband to snap a photo. Randy obliged, but not without a look of concern. I didn’t care. I needed a spark of fun in my day. Santa obviously paid me no mind.
Now, if the marketer of Coke products, the supervisor of elves, the giver of wonderful gifts had taken the time to chat with me, I would have handed him a Christmas wish list. What I’d really like Santa to bring to this world, especially this country, are compassion, kindness, respect, empathy, peace and love.
In all reality, Santa can’t deliver on that. Only we can.
Gifts for the creative grandson. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo December 2025)
WHEN MY ELDEST DAUGHTER sent her children’s Christmas gift wish lists to me, I wasn’t surprised to find several art-related items on first grader Isaac’s list. He loves creating. And to create, he needs supplies. So Isaac asked for giant construction paper, a Paint by Sticker book, a pixel art set and Sharpie markers, specifically a grey marker. Why grey? I have no idea. He’s getting all of those from Randy and me.
One year Isaac wanted a ream of paper for Christmas. He blew through the 500 sheets we gave him in several months. Not only does my grandson create art, but he also solves math problems far beyond what a six-year-old should be capable of doing and recently proclaimed, “I love to read!”
I’m not sharing this to be a boastful grandma. Rather, I want to emphasize the importance of encouraging children in their interests. That builds confidence and shows that we support and care about them and their passions.
A Little Golden Book Journal, among several crafted by recycler artist Rhonda Norgaard and for sale at the Paradise Center for the Arts, Faribault. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo December 2025)
My 9-year-old granddaughter, who really really loves to read, and write, declared on her first day of fourth grade that she wants to become an author. That could change. But for now, Izzy embraces creativity through writing, singing and playing piano. And I enthusiastically encourage her.
Among the many gifts for sale at the Paradise Center for the Arts is a Paradise membership. Members get discounted ticket prices among other benefits. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo December 2025)
In Faribault, I am an enthusiastic supporter of the arts, centered at the Paradise Center for the Arts. This downtown hub of creativity brings the visual and performing arts to my community via concerts, theatre, comedy, gallery shows, art classes and more.
Acrylic paintings by Adele Beals. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo December 2025)
And now, during the holiday season, 32 artists are showcasing and selling their art at the annual Holly Days Sale. I recently popped into the Paradise to peruse the artsy offerings ranging from pottery to paintings, stained glass, fiber art, mittens, jewelry, metalwork, woodwork, journals, photography, handbags and more. This is one-of-a-kind merchandise crafted with creative minds and hands by Minnesota artists.
Gail Kielmeyer crafted this doll, aprons and more, tagged as Minnesota Made. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo December 2025)
Handmade goods fill the main gallery and two smaller galleries for the Holly Days Sale. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo December 2025)
Paula Person crafts cellphone-sized and other bags and clutches for her business, notebagz. Her products are made from recycled publications. She also does custom work. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo December 2025)
I can’t help but wonder how many of these artists, as young children like my grandchildren, loved to create. Perhaps a grandmother taught them to sew. Perhaps they were fascinated by their grandfather’s abilities to build anything with wood. Perhaps an aunt painted. Perhaps their parents knitted or welded or journaled. Perhaps a teacher encouraged them in their creativity.
Laura O’Connor of Cuddled Again rescues and restores gently-used stuffies for resale. A portion of the proceeds go to HOPE Center in Faribault. To the right is Sandra Sargent’s stained glass art created at Bending Sunlight Glassworks. She teaches at the Paradise and also has a studio across the street in the Bachrach building. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo December 2025)
Whatever the reasons individuals choose to make art really doesn’t matter, although it is interesting to hear backstories. If they’re like me, they create because they haveto and can’t imagine their lives without art. No one expects to get rich in the arts, thus the term “starving artists.” Writing and photography are, for me, passions that earn me minimal income. Yet, I press on with my creative endeavors.
Oil on canvas nature scenes painted by Joannie Johnson. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo December 2025)
Likewise all those artists selling their goods at the Holly Days Sale clearly love creating and sharing their artwork with others. I am grateful to them and to all creatives, and to arts centers like the Paradise, for enriching our communities through the arts. Perhaps some day I will see my grandson’s art in a gallery and my granddaughter’s book on a bookstore shelf. Whatever happens, I hope they will always appreciate and embrace creativity.
Gail Kielmeyer’s handcrafted Minnesota Made mittens. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo December 2025)
FYI: The Holly Days Sale continues at the Paradise from noon-5 pm Wednesday-Friday, from 10 am-2 pm Saturdays and extended hours from 10 am-5 pm December 20.
The Paradise is hosting the monthly Faribault City Council Chat at 6 pm Wednesday, December 10, as part of the city’s community engagement efforts.
The Paradise Community Theatre is currently performing “The Sound of Music” at the Paradise. Remaining performances are set for 7:30 pm December 11 and 12 and 2 pm December 13 and 14.Tickets are selling quickly, so reserve yours now.
A holiday mannequin in the window of Fleur de Lis Gallery, which sells handcrafted, original art. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo December 2025)
DOWNTOWN FARIBAULT IS BEGINNING to look at lot like Christmas. That’s my observation after a quick walk along several blocks of Central Avenue on the Saturday afternoon of Winterfest.
A holiday scene along Central Avenue in downtown Faribault on Saturday afternoon, December 6. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo December 2025)
Our core business district buzzed with shoppers checking out the many homegrown specialty and other shops housed in our historic downtown buildings.
A couple pauses to look at merchandise displayed in the front windows of Keepers Antique Shop. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo December 2025)
I loved seeing all the foot traffic. This shows me our business community is drawing people to shop for one-of-a-kind goods not found at mass retailers. This also shows me people care about supporting local. This shows me, too, that customer service and connections still matter in a world obsessed with online shopping.
I came face to face with The Grinch outside Runamuck Workshop. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo December 2025)
The Grinch tries to draw attention to himself and the toy store. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo December 2025)
I was delighted to encounter The Grinch outside Faribault’s newest downtown shop, Runamuck Workshop. It’s a toy store already getting an enthusiastic response from the community. The Grinch was there for photo ops, but stepped out briefly to spread a little holiday fun and to draw shoppers inside.
A Candy Cane Lane themed window at Rice County Mutual Insurance Co. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo December 2025)
A mannequin wears a holiday hat at Ristrom Amplifiers. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo December 2025)
On this afternoon, I wasn’t shopping for gifts. Rather, I was window shopping, looking for creative holiday storefront window displays to photograph. I found plenty and certainly missed some as the frigid weather allowed me to linger only so long before my fingers felt the bite of cold and I called it quits.
The Buddy the Elf display at The Oasis Cafe with historic buildings reflected in the window. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo December 2025)
But I found my favorite display, featuring Buddy the Elf, at The Oasis Cafe. A personal story drew me to stand in front of the window with a Buddy cut-out hovering over a plate of spaghetti and assorted candy, candy canes, candy corn and syrup. This, if you’ve seen the movie “Elf,” denotes Buddy’s definition of the four basic food groups. My son loved the “Elf” film so much that I gifted him with syrup and candy corn one Christmas because, why not have a little fun with a nine-year-old? Now, all these years later, I photographed The Oasis “Elf” scene and texted it to my son, who is all grown up and living in Boston.
Santa in the window of Keepers Antique Shop. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo December 2025)
To see local business owners create visually-pleasing holiday window displays warms my heart. It’s fun to see their creations. They add to the festiveness of the downtown business district. And sometimes they spark memories, like mine of “Elf” and my son, who will be back in Minnesota soon for the holidays.
Sprigs of red berries add a holiday touch to a window display at Keepers Antique Shop. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo December 2025)
At Keepers Antique Shop, shopkeeper Nona Boyes creates artsy window displays year-round, a nod to her art degree and marketing skills. I always admire her displays, including inside her shop full of antiques, collectibles and vintage goods.
Elvis is in the house, or at least in the lower level of Corks & Pints, which co-hosted a Craft Spirits Holiday Bazaar with 10,000 Drops Distillers on December 6 and hosts another from 11 am to 4 pm on Saturday, December 13. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo December 2025)
When the weather warms and no snow is falling, perhaps I’ll head downtown again with my camera. Mine is a downtown with stunning historic buildings, locally-grown businesses and friendly shopkeepers invested in this community. And that matters to me, as it should to anyone who calls Faribault home.
Adopt-a-Tree Christmas trees curve along the sidewalk past the ice rink at Faribault’s Viaduct Park. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo December 2025)
THE GENEROSITY OF MY COMMUNITY is never more publicly visible than each December, when artificial Christmas trees are decorated, displayed and then donated to those in need.
Looking through the Christmas trees to the ice rink and the Viaduct Park community gathering space in the background. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo December 2025)
This past weekend I toured the trees rimming the ice skating rink at Faribault’s new community gathering spot, Viaduct Park. That park centered recent Winterfest activities.
A local 4-H club is among those decorating and donating a tree. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo December 2025)
As I slowly walked along the sidewalk looking at the festive trees, I thought of those who gave and those who will receive. Businesses, organizations, nonprofits, churches and more participate in the Adopt-a-Tree project with 77 trees gifted this year.
These women take their time looking at the 77 trees. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo December 2025)
The program was started by the Faribault Parks & Recreation Department in 2020 to bring a little holiday cheer to the community during the COVID-19 pandemic. Each December since, those numbers have steadily grown from 20 trees that first year to nearly 80 today. That’s a whole lot of families receiving Christmas trees. Families that might otherwise go without a tree because of the cost of buying one.
A skater skates on the other side of the trees edging the rink. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo December 2025)
Now, more than ever, with the price of groceries and other necessities rising, the need seems especially great. We’re all feeling the pinch in our pocketbooks. But, if you’re living on an especially tight budget, the reality is that maybe you can’t afford a tree or gifts. And that’s where my community, like so many others across Minnesota and the country, steps up and gives from the heart.
So many fun Christmas tree toppers, including this snowman. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo December 2025)
When I think back to my own childhood, I realize my parents likely scrimped and saved to buy Christmas presents for me and my five siblings. We maybe got two gifts each. And we were ecstatic to receive those.
Skaters skate next to the trees and the Viaduct Park gathering space, which is open for warming up and to buy concessions from 3-5 pm weekdays and from 1-6 pm weekends. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo December 2025)
Our Christmas tree was so small that it sat on the end of our Formica kitchen table. To this day, I look for a Charlie Brown tree because of the fond childhood memories associated with a less-than-perfect tiny tree.
A festive holiday ribbon circles a tree. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo December 2025)
I hope the children in my community whose families receive Adopt-a-Tree trees will feel the same Christmas joy. I hope they feel the love of those who care about them, who want them to have a Christmas tree in their homes. Likewise, if they receive gifts through many of the giving programs in Faribault, I hope they feel loved.
Operation: 23 to 0, which works toward suicide prevention, participated in Adopt-a-Tree. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo December 2025)
Perhaps some day, they, too, will give back, reflecting on those hard times when others uplifted them during the holidays. My husband and his sibling were on the receiving end of such giving during their childhood. Today Randy and I are part of a bible study group at Trinity Lutheran Church that facilitates a Christmas Angel Program. We’ll gather soon to wrap all those donated gifts.
Generosity shines like the star topping one of the Christmas trees. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo December 2025)
Kindness. Compassion. Care. All shine bright in Faribault from those donated Christmas trees to every single gift purchased for someone in need. Both reflect the spirit of the season. And that is a spirit of love and of generosity.
I viewed the trees during daylight, under overcast skies. I’d encourage night viewing also to see the lights. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo December 2025)
FYI: If you want to see the Adopt-a-Tree trees, look soon. They are coming down early this week. Thank you to all who participated in this project.
I took this photo in downtown Faribault on May 15, 2020. It remains my personal most powerful early local documentation of the pandemic. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo May 2020)
I DISLIKE CONFLICT. I prefer decency, kindness and respect. I’d rather we all just got along. Listened. Stopped all the political jockeying and spread of misinformation. Cared about one another. Really cared. That would be ideal.
But this is not Utopia, especially not now during a pandemic. I am beyond frustrated. We’ve risen to new levels of disagreement and disconnect that threaten our health and our relationships, even our democracy. I find myself faced with sometimes heartwrenching choices as I try to protect my health and that of those I love most.
WHOOPING COUGH WAS BAD ENOUGH
A severe viral infection, which my husband caught at work and then passed along to me in mid-August, showed just how vulnerable I am to respiratory infections. While this week-long-plus infection had all the marks of COVID-19, it was not. We both tested negative. (Yes, we were fully vaccinated and recently got our boosters.) Yet, this reminded me of my need to be careful. Sixteen years ago I developed a severe case of whooping cough that lasted for three months and required an inhaler and steroids to help me breathe. (Yes, I was vaccinated for pertussis, but that protection wears off, unbeknownst at the time to me. Staying current on vaccines is essential.)
When I asked my doctor back in 2005 where I could have contracted whooping cough, he replied, “You could have gotten it waiting in line at the grocery store.” I was his first adult diagnosed case in 30-plus years of practicing medicine. I never want to be that ill again.
PROTECTING MYSELF & OTHERS
I have made, and will continue to make, choices that best protect me and my closest family circle from COVID-19. With young grandchildren and also a mother in a long-term care center, I am not willing to take chances with their health or mine. Because of high COVID rates in Minnesota, I haven’t seen my mom since July.
In the past nearly two years, I’ve opted out of grad parties, family reunions and gatherings with friends that included unvaccinated and unmasked individuals. I also stopped attending in-person worship services earlier this summer for the second time during this pandemic. I don’t feel comfortable being in enclosed spaces (beyond brief passing) with people who may or may not be vaccinated and who are unmasked.
I’ve missed funerals, attending only one since this whole pandemic began. And that was my father-in-law’s in February, pre-vaccination. It was a horrible experience, trying to keep my distance from the half-maskers and unmasked, too often repeating that I wasn’t hugging or shaking hands because, um, we’re in a pandemic.
STRAINED RELATIONSHIPS
Already, family relationships feel strained as I struggle to understand why some extended family refuse to get vaccinated. And then feel it’s OK to attend family get-togethers. I expect to make some difficult choices soon about whether to attend upcoming holiday gatherings. If unvaccinated adults are in attendance, I likely won’t be. Not because I don’t trust the vaccine, but because there’s always some risk and it’s a matter of principle. I don’t want to, by choice, be around individuals I know to be unvaccinated.
CARE, COMMON SENSE & OUR CHILDREN
And then there are those daily life occurrences which trigger concern. Like the unmasked teenage grocery store cashier who ran her fingers around her mouth. Then checked out my groceries.
Early on in the pandemic, playgrounds were off-limits to kids, including this one at North Alexander Park in Faribault. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo March 2020)
Months ago at the playground, I watched my granddaughter run up and down a tunnel slide with another little girl. The whole time I wondered, should I allow her to do this? In the end, I did, mostly because they were outdoors and in constant motion. I find myself feeling especially protective of my two grandchildren. The day my 5-year-old granddaughter got her first vaccine dose, I felt incredible joy. I cannot wait for the nearly 3-year-old to become eligible for his COVID vaccine.
Week Day, 6, a first grader at Park Side Elementary School in Marshall, MN., died of COVID on April 25, 2021. Photo source: Hamilton Funeral Home.
It’s true that, generally, if kids get COVID, they experience milder cases. But some have also ended up severely ill in the hospital and others have died. I will take every preventative measure I can to keep my dear grandchildren healthy and safe.
I recognize we each have different comfort levels. I tend to believes the experts, to be a rule follower, to want to do my part to keep others safe via vaccination and mitigation. I trust health and science. If public health officials are recommending we wear masks indoors, regardless of vaccination status, I will do exactly that. Not that I need them advising this. Common sense and knowledge of the highly-contagious Delta variant are enough for me to mask up, keep my distance and more. I would never think of going into surgery (and I’ve had many surgeries in my life) with an unmasked healthcare team, pandemic or not.
OVERWHELMED IN MINNESOTA, A COVID HOTSPOT
I photographed this from the passenger seat of our van as we drove through Rochester in November 2020. I’d like to see a message now stating, GET VACCINATED & save ICU beds for anyone who needs one.(Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo November 2020)
Minnesota’s overwhelmed healthcare system concerns me as it affects anyone who needs care. Not just those with COVID. Despite all of this, too many Minnesotans are still refusing to get vaccinated.
I want this pandemic to end. But right now I don’t foresee that happening any time soon…unless we start acting like we care about one another. How? Get vaccinated (and that includes boosters). Wear a face mask. Social distance. Stay home when sick. Practice other proven COVID mitigation measures. We have the power to stop COVID-19. This isn’t 1918. But sometimes it sure seems like 103 years ago, despite advances in science and knowledge and an understanding of how this virus spreads.
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NOTE: I will not publish anti-vaccine or anti-masking comments on this, my personal blog. Likewise, I will not publish misinformation, etc. as it relates to COVID and vaccines.
MOST HOLIDAYS, NO MATTER how hard I try, I find myself envying families who can all be together. I know it’s juvenile thinking and I should be thankful for the times I have my three adult children (that always seems like such an oxymoron) under my roof for a holiday.
But if you’re a mom (or dad), and you’re honest, don’t you miss having every child you’ve birthed or adopted together with you, celebrating? OK, maybe it’s just me. But I miss the daughter who lives four hours away. And I miss the son who lives 1,400 miles away. And, when my eldest daughter and her family are with the other side of the family on the other side of the country, I miss them, too.
I’m getting better at accepting this as the way things are when your kids grow up and leave home. I’m adjusting. Connecting via technology helps. Randy and I have also found other ways to deal with the absence of our once nuclear family. On Thanksgiving, for example, we volunteered to deliver meals in our community. Last Easter we drove 2.5 hours to southwestern Minnesota to visit my mom in a care center. I can choose to be sad. Or I can choose to purposely give joy, thus receiving joy in return.
I’ve learned to delight in the once-a-year-occasion (maybe) that our family gathers in Minnesota. That last happened in August. Seven months ago. Too long. But at least we were together for a few days. Never mind that my son texted recently that he is changing his residency to Massachusetts, tangible evidence that he doesn’t plan to return to Minnesota to live anytime soon.
Then I think of the parents who have lost children and I have no reason, none, to feel sorry for myself.
This is life. I am reminded that, as parents, we are to give our kids roots and wings. Roots and wings. It sounds so poetic, so uplifting. But the reality is that sometimes I wish my kids had missed that flying part. Or at least landed closer to home.
TELL ME: Do you share any of my feelings? How do you cope with missing your kids on holidays? Or are you one of those “lucky” parents who always has your kids around for holidays?
Just for the record, I spent this Easter with my husband, oldest daughter, son-in-law and granddaughter. And it was wonderful.
ON THE FINAL EVENING before he left, I leaned across the sofa to wrap my arms around him. He closed his laptop, stretching his long arms up and around me.
“I want to hold onto this moment,” I said, gripping him tighter.
“I’m not going to take it away from you,” my son answered.
The downtown Minneapolis skyline. Minnesota Prairie Roots file photo.
He was right. Only my mind could keep or release the sweet memory of our hug. After 10 days with Caleb home for the holidays from Boston, I was struggling with his departure. Hints that perhaps he could relocate to Minneapolis or St. Paul were met with a firm “no.” At least for now. So I widened the geographic range to Milwaukee, Chicago, St. Louis. Still no interest.
The 2016 commencement ceremony begins at The School of Engineering, Tufts University. Minnesota Prairie Roots file photo.
I am resigned, for now, to the fact that my son loves the East Coast. He’s in a place where, after more than four years, he feels comfortable and at home. I never thought my youngest would move the farthest from Minnesota. He started college in Fargo, but soon found the flat and windy North Dakota city and the college a less than ideal fit for him and his insatiable desire to learn, to be challenged. So, shortly after he turned 19 and following his freshman year, he flew to Boston, toured three colleges and gained acceptance to all three. He transferred into Tufts University, a stellar college that offered the challenges (and financial aid) he needed. And now he works in the computer science field in greater Boston.
I zoomed in on the Boston skyline from the patio roof of Tisch Library at Tufts University. Minnesota Prairie Roots file photo spring 2016.
He’s never really said why he prefers Boston over Minnesota. Not that he owes me an explanation. I understand how a metro region with a strong tech base would hold appeal for Caleb. The area seems to me the Silicon Valley of the East Coast. Caleb has found plenty of like-minded techies in groups like Boston Indies. Several times he’s demoed his soon-to-be-released video game, Blockspell. And he’s presenting at the 2018 BostonFIG (Festival of Indie Games) Talks on January 20 at MIT Stata Center. I’m not saying similar opportunities don’t exist in Minnesota. But he’s found his fit in Boston. I need to be good with that. And I am.
Yet, a selfish part of me still yearns for geographical closeness.
Three generations: my mom, my eldest daughter and my granddaughter.
MY HOLIDAYS HELD magical photographic moments, mostly because of my granddaughter, just days shy of turning nine months old.
Isabelle is so accustomed to Grandma and her DSLR Canon that she crawls toward me whenever I have my camera in hand. So I try to be quick and sneaky, not always possible with an active baby.
But I managed, at a family holiday gathering this past weekend in southwestern Minnesota, to photograph some special moments. I’m always seeking to document emotions, interactions and everyday life. Posed portraits also hold value.
I aimed my lens toward my mom, in her eighties, and her connection to her great granddaughter. I love watching the interaction between the two generations and observing my own daughter as a loving and caring mom.
Often I found myself crawling and chasing after Izzy, sometimes placing my camera on the floor to get her perspective. That resulted in my favorite shot of the weekend—Isabelle crawling while her daddy and grandpa watched from the next room.
Grandpa also thought he should teach his grandbaby to maneuver the stairs. She’s a little too young for that. But that didn’t stop Izzy from pausing at the base of the stairway to imagine the possibilities. Stairs appear particularly daunting from a baby’s perspective.
Santa visits with my mom and my niece.
As always, Santa showed up at the extended family holiday gathering to parcel out candy, humor and questions about naughty and nice. All ages landed on his lap, earning a moment of Santa’s full attention.
There’s something magical about that—when, for a brief span of time, we all believe in Santa Claus.
Minnesota Prairie Roots 
A chance encounter with Santa at the grocery store December 17, 2025
Tags: Christmas, commentary, Faribault, grocery store, holidays, Minnesota, Santa Claus
WHEN I SPOTTED SANTA at the grocery store yesterday, I decided to get my picture taken with him. You’re never too old for Santa, right? But the Jolly Old Man didn’t even notice me, so busy was he guzzling his Coca-Cola while marketing Coke products.
I hadn’t considered that Santa would need a side job, especially during the hectic holiday season. Isn’t managing the elves, feeding the reindeer, making public appearances, reviewing kids’ Christmas lists and packing the sleigh enough for one man to handle?
But I suppose Santa, like all of us, is feeling the effects of higher prices. He’s paying tariffs on parts the elves can’t make. Mrs. Claus needs baking ingredients that have skyrocketed in price. The North Pole toy workshop heating bill is likely high, even higher than in icebox Minnesota. So Santa probably welcomes the extra income from his grocery store side hustle.
Undeterred by Santa turning his back on me, I cozied up to him and asked my dear husband to snap a photo. Randy obliged, but not without a look of concern. I didn’t care. I needed a spark of fun in my day. Santa obviously paid me no mind.
Now, if the marketer of Coke products, the supervisor of elves, the giver of wonderful gifts had taken the time to chat with me, I would have handed him a Christmas wish list. What I’d really like Santa to bring to this world, especially this country, are compassion, kindness, respect, empathy, peace and love.
In all reality, Santa can’t deliver on that. Only we can.
THOUGHTS?
© Copyright 2025 Audrey Kletscher Helbling