The fused glass heart art of Northfield artist Geralyn Thelen, used for illustration only. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo 2022)
I JUST WITNESSED the most beautiful moment outside my home.
A scream and the flash of my letter carrier racing across the front lawn toward the street initially drew my attention. I thought someone was in distress, needed help. But not so.
I looked out the living room window to see a car parked along the side street intersecting with the main arterial route past my house. I live on a corner lot. Two young kids leaned out the back window, their arms outstretched toward the letter carrier, clearly their dad.
I simply stood and watched, observing the pure joy, the incredible love between father and children. It showed in one child climbing through the open window, wrapping legs and arms around Dad. Not wanting to let go. It showed in the wide smiles and the screams of delight. The hugs.
My heart filled with joy as I watched, smiling the entire time.
To witness this unbridled happiness in the darkness of all that is happening in this country and around the world brightened my day.
Once the letter carrier started heading back to his mail truck, I popped my head out the front door and called to him. I told him that the interaction between him and his young daughter and son made my day. He responded how blessed he is to have his loving family who were simply out garage-saling. Until the kids spotted Dad. And then all joy broke lose and love erupted.
A piano at the Arts Center of Saint Peter. Photo used for illustration only. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo October 2024)
MOMENTS IN LIFE EXIST that imprint upon the spirit a deep sense of contentment, peace and joy. That happened Sunday afternoon as I sat inside St. John’s Lutheran Church, Lakeville, for a piano recital. As the 11 pianists, including my 9-year-old granddaughter, Izzy, played selections on the grand piano rolled to the front of the sanctuary, I thought, life is good.
And it was good in the 45 minutes when family and friends gathered to hear these young musicians, and one mom, also a piano student, play. Love filled the space. I could feel it. I could hear it in the music, in resounding applause, in congratulatory words. I could see it in broad smiles, practiced bows, photos snapped, hugs shared, and flowers and other gifts given.
Life at its basic is about loving and supporting and encouraging and celebrating.
A SANCTUARY
The recital inside the sanctuary felt, too, like a sanctuary from all the hard stuff happening in the world today. We all need a break from that. These pianists provided that escape as they played tunes like Whispering Wind, Lemonade Stand, Spanish Dancer and the more familiar Linus & Lucy and Star Wars. I swayed to the music, smiling the entire time.
JOY IN CREATIVITY
When young Scarlett and her teacher, Roxanne, played Ode to Joy together, I was whisked away to a wedding. More joy.
The students’ playing was flawless, practiced, disciplined and filled with a creative spirit. I admired the players’ skills, from novice to more advanced, as their fingers landed upon piano keys.
When a young mom stepped up to play two selections, I spotted her husband across the pews. He was beaming, so proud of this woman who studied piano as a child and decided to resume lessons as an adult. She wants a grand piano, she shared in a brief conversation with me after the recital. But that meant convincing her husband. I’d say she’s convinced him.
LIFE IS GOOD
Likewise, Audra, Brysen, Ellie, Evan, Evie, Grayson, Izzy, Jessica, Oscar, Scarlett and Viva convinced me that a piano recital is about much more than just playing and listening to music. It is about family and friends and love. It’s about creativity and celebrating and delighting in one of life’s basic joys—music. Life is good, oh, so good when listening to Trampoline Tumble, Banana Split, Twilight Reverie and 18 other songs played on a grand piano on a Sunday afternoon in May in southern Minnesota.
Sunrise on Horseshoe Lake, rural Merrifield, MN. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo September 2024)
ON THE SATURDAY I should have been in Madison, Wisconsin, cuddling my nearly two-month-old grandson, Everett, I was, instead, home in Minnesota. Sick with a cold. I felt sad and disappointed that our trip was canceled.
But then my son-in-law sent a short video clip of Everett. To the soundtrack of “It’s a Beautiful Morning,” I watched Everett smile. You know the type of smile that widens and grows until it reaches your eyes. It was only a few seconds, but enough to shift my mood to joy.
And who doesn’t need a little joy right now? There’s a lot happening currently on a national and international scale that causes me deep concern, stress and worry. So I must intentionally seek out that which eases some of my angst. A visit with Everett and his parents would have proven a wonderful distraction. Soon, perhaps, Randy and I can do the four-hour drive to Madison.
Meanwhile, back home in Faribault, I connect with friends, go on walks, lift hand weights, hang laundry outside on the line, bake banana bread, take a Sunday afternoon drive, listen to uplifting music (specifically Christian radio station KTIS), pull out my camera, write, read…all simple things that brighten my days.
(Book cover sourced online)
Most of you know that I love to read. I happened upon a collection of short stories which was, in a way, like a short “It’s a Beautiful Morning” video clip. The slim volume, Notes from the Porch—Tiny True Stories to Make You Feel Better about the World by Thomas Christopher Greene, was exactly the book I needed to read on the weekend I was still fighting my cold and couldn’t see Everett.
Greene shared the stories via social media from his home in Vermont during the COVID-19 pandemic. And now he’s compiled those stories, typed into his laptop on his front porch, in this book. Even if you’re not a big reader—and I know a lot of people who don’t read books—this is a breeze of a relatable read.
In his book, Thomas Greene writes about a blue heron in sharing the story of his baby daughter Jane. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)
The book title alone, Notes from the Porch, points to the content of short snippets about everyday life. Most are not extraordinary moments, with the exception of the death of the author’s daughter, Jane, at six months. Even that has a positive message of we’re all stronger than we think. I bet nearly all of you can relate to that—the resilience we find in the midst of incredible personal challenges. And if you haven’t faced such challenges, then I’m glad you haven’t.
My niece and nephewdance in the rain at a family gathering. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)
But back to Greene’s book. He writes several stories about his seven-year-old neighbor boy who races his bike along the street. With wild abandon. Fearless. Occasionally stopping to chat with the front porch writer. I can picture that young boy, who also runs in the rain. Just as I can picture the older couple in another story, on their boat each evening chasing the sun. Rain and sunshine.
A page in a keepsake book a friend created for me after my mom died. The photo is of my mom holding me. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)
Greene’s writing is not only descriptive, but also emotionally touching and insightful. When I read his story, “The Only List I Will Ever Make,” I cried at #11, the final item on his living life list: 11. Call your mom. If your mom is no longer here, call her anyway. No one will root for you more. I used to call my mom every Sunday evening until she could no longer talk on the phone. She’s been gone three years now, dying during the height of Omicron (not of) in a long-term care center. There are days when I wish I could call her, hear her supportive words, tell her I love her. Greene’s writing reminds me that Mom is but a memory away, part of me for the kindness and compassion she taught me, for the unconditional love she gave to me, for the…
This art created by my granddaughter reminds me that we can all be each other other’s sunshine. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo 2023)
And now Greene has gifted all of us with his kind and compassionate words. He writes of kindness witnessed in a grocery store. He writes about a father joyfully, publicly sharing the news that his straight A daughter has been accepted into an Ivy League school. A Black girl from Vermont, the daughter of an immigrant without any money, going to Harvard because she earned it. That reminds me of my own son getting into an elite East Coast college, because of his smarts, certainly not because we had the money to send him there.
Notes from the Porch uplifts, encourages, teaches. Each story is like “It’s a Beautiful Morning” video clip of my smiling grandbaby. Sure to leave you feeling better.
My first view of the tie dyed t-shirts. Two days later, I returned and met the artist. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2024)
TIE DYED SHIRTS jolted color against a brown privacy fence along West Seventh Street in Northfield next to Riverside Park on a recent weekday afternoon. The colorful display proved a photographic surprise as I headed for the park.
The shirts have creative designs front and back.(Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2024)
Prices and payment box, on the honor system. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2024)
Vibrant hues on a heart shirt, one of my favorites. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2024)
Rich, brilliant hues and creative designs instantly drew my attention to this pop-up shop that was as much a place to buy a tee on the honor system as it was an art display.
Artist Rebecca Stull. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2024)
The creative behind the wearable art is Rebecca Stull, who lives in an apartment building behind the fence with her daughter, Lily Joy, age three. I met them two days after I initially spotted and first photographed the tie dye art. I happened to be in Northfield again, same location, aiming for the Northfield Farmers Market in the park. And out came Rebecca and her daughter, the artist carrying bowls of water to set beside the sidewalk for passing dogs.
Rebecca also tie dyed these cute heart onesies. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2024)
I couldn’t believe my luck. To meet Rebecca, to hear her story, excited me. Everyone has a story. Rebecca is new to tie dying, learning as she goes. I would not have guessed that based on the art she produced. She has a two-year online art degree, a good background for creating this art.
A mandala, a favorite design of Rebecca’s. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2024)
This young mother and artist holds a passion for art, for tie dying. She feels a calling, she said, “on a journey to work with Jesus.” That shows in the crosses gracing some of her shirts, including little Lily’s. She also favors mandalas.
Rebecca pulled tees from the fence to show me fronts and backs. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2024)
What I love about Rebecca, besides her tie dye art, is her joy. She exudes positivity, despite struggles. Rebecca shared just enough for me to understand that life hasn’t always been easy for her. But here she is, getting the support she needs, using her creative talents, raising Lily Joy with a joyful spirit.
Rebecca’s storefront, next to her apartment building. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2024)
She told me how thankful she is for a landlord who supports her tie dye creativity.
Lily Joy counts her mom’s t-shirts. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2024)
I encouraged her. It’s clear Rebecca wants the best for her little girl. Some of the monies from her first t-shirt sales paid for Lily Joy to go to the recent Defeat of Jesse James Days carnival. The three-year-old is an enthusiastic marketer of her mom’s tie dyed shirts. As I watched, Lily Joy, walked along the fence line, touching the shirts, counting inventory for her mom.
A cyclist passes Rebecca’s tie dyed t-shirts as he heads to the Northfield Farmers Market on a Friday morning. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2024)
To have met these two blessed me, jolted joy into my day. And it all started with a walk to Riverside Park, 35mm Canon camera in hand.
Audrey Kletscher Helbling and Mickey Nelson inside The Junk Monkey. (Copyrighted photo by Randy Helbling, September 2023)
IN THE EVERYDAY MOMENTS of life, I often strike up conversations with strangers given my innate desire to hear their stories, to connect, to learn, or simply to show I care. Through such encounters, I’ve met the most delightful individuals.
THE CENTENARIAN
Take Mickey Nelson, 103, of Clarks Grove.
“You’re 103?” I overheard the question, edged with disbelief, while recently browsing a local vintage, collectibles and treasures shop. That was enough for me to pause and head to the front of the store to meet this centenarian engaged in conversation with shopkeeper Theresa.
When I spotted Mickey, I understood why Theresa sounded so incredulous. Mickey looked not a day over 80. His smile, which reached his eyes, exuded positivity, joy. And then I heard his story, realizing I’d heard it three years earlier.
Mickey is, in every way, extraordinary. In 2020, he walked 100 miles in his small southern Minnesota community to celebrate his 100th birthday. He didn’t walk just to walk. Mickey walked for a purpose, to raise money for the Salvation Army. And he raised a whole lot—$115,000, his daughter Michelle said.
I was beyond impressed by this WW II veteran and his generosity. Mickey remembered the bread lines during the Great Depression. That sparked his 100-mile mission to gather monies for Salvation Army food assistance during COVID-19. A similar effort by an aged veteran in England, who walked 100 laps in his garden during the pandemic and raised $30 million for Britain’s healthcare system, also proved motivating for Mickey.
On this day, I felt honored to meet Mickey, whose story was broadly shared in the media in 2020, the reason it was familiar to me. I decided right then and there that I wanted my photo taken with this celebrity, a remarkable man not only for his generosity of spirit, but also for the spirit of joyfulness he exudes.
Virginia Malecha displays two of her tote bags, among creations she was vending at the Faribault Farmers’ Market. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2023)
THE SEAMSTRESS
The same can be said for Virginia Malecha of Millersburg, whom I met while enjoying a pork burger during a recent event at the local co-op. She, like Mickey, exudes joy. And she, like Mickey, is generous. Virginia has sewn 200 cloth bags for patrons to use at the Northfield Public Library. As we talked, I learned that this seamstress has been sewing since age nine. She clearly enjoys the craft, stitching totes from recycled materials (such as clothing and duvets) and from her fabric stash collected through the decades.
Virginia invited me to stop at the Faribault Farmers’ Market to view more of her creations, including dish towels she machine embroiders, scrubbies and more. Two days later, I did just that. I was impressed by this kind, generous and friendly woman. She not only sews, but also taught herself to play the concertina and raised her family on a dairy farm (another connection given I grew up on a dairy farm). I asked to take her photo. I wanted to remember her beautiful smile and how she, like Mickey, inspired me. And it all started with a conversation over burgers in a co-op parking lot.
Not a tortoise, but a turtle, which is nearly as slow as a tortoise. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo June 2020)
THE TORTOISE
And then there was the recent afternoon I met Paul (whose last name I never got) in the same park where Virginia vended her wares. He was walking, just like my husband and me. Randy and I were, however, going at a much faster pace. That led to a humorous moment, when Paul called us the hares, himself a tortoise. But, I reminded him, the tortoise wins the race.
On this day, though, I truly was the winner given the conversation that followed. We chatted a bit about retirement and other topics. But even before Paul mentioned that he was a retired Lutheran pastor from New Richland now relocated and living across the street from the park, I recognized his compassion. He listened as I shared about my neurological health issues caused by a virus in early January. His wife, he said, suffered a traumatic brain injury. Her challenges in many ways mimic mine. I felt, in that moment, understood, uplifted and incredibly thankful for this caring man.
Like Mickey and Virginia, we connected in an everyday moment of life. And I am the better for having met the three of them—the centenarian, the seamstress and the tortoise.
After the Community Christmas Dinner. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo December 2012)
IN THE DAYS LEADING to Christmas, busyness can cause us to lose focus. Busy baking. Busy cleaning. Busy buying. Busy wrapping and trying to do too much. I invite you to pause and reflect.
Reflect on hope.
Reflect on peace.
Reflect on joy.
Reflect on love.
Those four words centered a bulletin board display I photographed in 2012 at Fourth Avenue United Methodist Church. I love this image. For the message. And for the story behind it. The Faribault church annually (except during COVID) hosts a free Community Christmas Dinner in mid-December. Volunteers serve a full holiday meal in the church basement. I’ve attended many times and enjoyed not only the food, but also the coming together of my community.
In this particular photo, a woman awaits a ride home. I’d just finished my meal and came across her standing at the top of the stairs, poinsettia in hand. The holiday flowers decorated dinner tables and diners were welcome to take them home. She was unaware of my presence. I framed the moment. A moment that, against the backdrop Advent message, captures the reason for the season.
Hope. Peace. Joy. Love. May all be yours as we draw near to Christmas.
Photographed along the bike trail in the Atwood neighborhood of Madison, Wisconsin. Minnesota Prairie Roots file photo 2020.
AS I WAITED POST VACCINATION in the clinic waiting room for the mandatory 15-minute observation, I observed. I am a people-watcher. A listener. A person who notices her environment.
After texting family, I set my cellphone aside to watch. Nearly every other person was on their phone, one guy even answering two calls. But, with magazines absent from tables and time to pass, few options remained. I’d left my library book, Funeral for a Friend by Brian Freeman, at home.
I wondered about all these people, if they felt as happy and thankful as me to receive the Pfizer vaccine protecting us against COVID-19. I expect they did.
Occasionally the nurse overseeing the small cluster of vaccinated individuals circulated among us. Checking times. And us. We each had labels stuck to our clothing, noting our dismissal time. I moved mine from just above the denim on my right knee to the right of my Army green jacket, making the label more visible.
Patients filtered in and out of the clinic as I sat there. Watching. A young mother entered, baby balanced on her hip. I was surprised to see her little one, perhaps six months old, wearing a face mask. I felt gratitude toward that mother who understands the value of face masks in protecting others and in keeping her child safe. The baby wore the mask with ease.
Photographed at LARK Toys in Kellogg, MN. Minnesota Prairie Roots file photo.
Soon my eyes shifted to another mother and child waiting nearby, outside the vision clinic. I watched as the observation nurse walked over and asked if she needed help. Her kindness touched me. I expect this mother, a Muslim woman dressed in a black niqab with only her eyes showing through a rectangular slit, may struggle with English. But she understood enough to reply, although I didn’t hear her response. And then the nurse bent toward the child, perhaps nine months old, waving and talking and engaging her. The baby waved back, a broad smile spreading across her sweet face. In that moment I felt joy. Joy in seeing this very basic human interaction. Culture and dress and skin tone and religion mattering not. Just one human being interacting with another in the most loving way.
Photographed several years ago in the window of a downtown Faribault business. Minnesota Prairie Roots file photo.
Moments like this give me hope. Hope that we can accept one another. Connect. Express kindness to one another. Care about each other. And realize that, at the core, we are all simply human beings living on this earth. Individuals with wants and needs, no matter our skin tone, our beliefs, our culture, our language, our job status, our anything.
Love in three languages (Spanish, Somali and English), printed on a mirror along Faribault’s Virtue Trail. Minnesota Prairie Roots file photo August 2018.
Understanding and acceptance start with each of us. Like the interaction I witnessed between nurse and mother and child at the clinic. When the observation nurse cleared me to leave at 3:38 pm, I thanked her. Beneath my face mask, I smiled. And although she couldn’t see that smile, I hope she heard the joy and gratitude in my words.
HOW ARE YOU, dear friends? I don’t ask that question without expecting an honest answer.
Perhaps you’ve had a really difficult week. Like me. One filled with concern for those you love. One of endless texts and emails among family. Worry. Awake too early. Feeling stressed.
Or maybe everything is going great. And that’s good. Life is a mix of rainy days and sunny days. Or if I put that in the context of winter in Minnesota, days with snow and days without snow. Days when temps are well above zero and days when they are unbelievably cold. Like the weather predicted for the next week.
Minnesota Prairie Roots file photo February 2014.
But let’s put all that aside right now and focus on flowers. Yes, flowers. When I awakened too early the other morning and couldn’t fall asleep again with pain pressing upon my head, neck and shoulders, I prayed. And then I pictured flowers. These flowers. Aren’t they lovely?
And happy is good. Even in difficult days that challenge us, there are ways to find joy. And today my joy comes in remembering the gift of these flowers, how they popped color into a February day and lifted my spirits seven years ago. And now again, today.
The joy of Christmas banners McNeilus Steel, Inc., Dodge Center, Minnesota.
HOLIDAY DECORATIONS SEND a message, lift spirits, bring joy. This year, more than ever.
Santa and his reindeer fly across the side of a McNeilus building.
I appreciate every homeowner, every city, every church, every nonprofit and every business that takes the time and effort to create Christmas joy via festive decorations.
McNeilus, a 70-plus-year-old family-owned business centered in Dodge Center, has four locations.
I photographed the company’s holiday decorations recently while traveling along US Highway 14. The business sits right next to the busy highway. I had to focus and shoot quickly from the passenger seat as the decorations flashed past our van.
Stretching along another building, more Christmas decor.
What a gift from this family-owned full-line steel distributor and processor to the thousands of motorists who pass by daily.
Another view of Santa and his reindeer.
During a year that’s challenged and stretched us in so many ways due to COVID-19, I’m grateful for scenes like these that share the Christmas spirit in such a visual, public way.
TELL ME: Have you spotted holiday decorations that bring you an added measure of joy this Christmas? I’d like to hear.
SIMPLY PASSING BY without acknowledgment of something we appreciate is so easy. We all do it, right? Admire something from afar, and then continue on our way. And Randy and I did just that, even though he asked if we should stop. “Maybe on the way home,” I said.
“She’ll be gone by then,” Randy surmised.
At that point, I was more interested in getting to North Alexander Park for a short evening walk than in photographing a chalk art artist. I appreciated her efforts from the comfort of our passing van and figured if I remembered the art on our return trip, fine. If not, fine, too.
And so we enjoyed our evening trail walk, which included geese and squirrel watching, and a pass through the Rice County Fairgrounds as we headed back toward home along Second Avenue. Nearing the intersection with Seventh Street, Randy repeated his “Do you want to stop?” question.
This time I agreed.
Jane, at work, with her angel heart wings in the foreground.
And I’m glad I did. Or I never would have met Jane, a lovely young woman who looks about 10 years younger than her mid-twenties age. She sat on a sidewalk step at a house along Seventh Street, chalk in hand, creating art.
As I admired the flowers, turtle, angel heart wings, peace symbol and smiley face, and took photos, Jane and I chatted for a bit. She shared a glimpse into her life story. There have been struggles.
But here she was, exuding joy in our conversation, in the sweet smile gracing her face. I saw grit and determination there, too, as she focused on creating art. Her fingers, dusted with chalk, worked art onto the sidewalk. She was creating this public art to bring joy to others. I thanked her for that effort. That gift.
Chalk, Jane’s tool of choice on this summer evening.
Art, Jane says, is her passion. She’s also painted with acrylics, had some art training. Nothing formal.
Jane’s art stretches along the sidewalk in front of her Seventh Street residence.
I felt compelled to encourage this young woman as I asked about her plans. She’s uncertain about her future. I advised her to follow her passions in life, that life is too short to not do what you love. And that money isn’t everything. Things aren’t everything. But happiness is. I sensed she already knows this.
I complimented her, too, on her smile and Jane confirmed others have told her the same, how beautiful her smile. It was genuine, coming from deep within. From a place that has experienced challenges and overcome them. To create art. Bright and bold and beautiful.
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