Minnesota Prairie Roots

Writing and photography by Audrey Kletscher Helbling

Fundraiser for motorcycle crash survivor Scott “Scooter” Hoffbeck October 30, 2026

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Scott “Scooter” Hoffbeck. (Photo from his GoFundMe page)

WHEN I FIRST “met” Scott “Scooter” Hoffbeck, the 61-year-old rural Faribault man was lying motionless in the street outside my home severely-injured following an August 26 car-motorcycle crash. His damaged Harley Davidson motorcycle lay nearby.

Now, just over two months later, Scooter continues to heal and regain strength at a local care center. He spent weeks at St. Marys, a Mayo Clinic hospital in Rochester, some of that in ICU. His injuries included a broken pelvis requiring surgery, internal bleeding, a severe head wound, traumatic brain injury and no movement on his right side.

Scooter’s motorcycle, photographed after he had been taken from the scene. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo by Randy Helbling)

When Scooter was transported by ground ambulance directly to the Faribault airport and airlifted to the Rochester trauma center, none of us at the crash scene knew whether he would survive. Miraculously, he did.

And this Sunday, November 1, the community will gather from 1-6 p.m. at Faribault American Legion Post 43, 112 Fifth St. NE, to support Scooter at a benefit fundraiser. All proceeds will go toward his medical expenses.

The event includes a silent auction raffle, food, bake sale and music by Tiger Ries, a Minnesota musician who performs classic rock, country, blues and ballads.

Randy Helbling and Paloma Sanchez, center, pictured with Scooter after the awards ceremony. Officer Todd Bristol, second from right, responded to the August 26 crash. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo October 2026)

I’ll be at the benefit with my husband, Randy, who was recently honored along with passing motorist Paloma Sanchez, for rendering life-saving aid to Scooter at the crash site. I expect Scooter will be at Sunday’s fundraiser also just as he was at the Faribault Police Department award ceremony for Randy and Paloma.

To see Scooter for the first time several weeks ago proved especially emotional. Many of us were either crying or on the verge of tears. That included Scooter and his family who expressed their gratitude for life-saving actions. I look forward to seeing them again on Sunday.

The Community Certificate of Merit Award presented to Randy (and also to Paloma) summarizes his actions that helped save Scooter. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo October 2026)

When you’ve been through something like this, you pause to consider how life can change just like that. One minute all is fine and the next you’re fighting for your life or trying to save a life.

Thankfully, Scooter remembers nothing of the crash. The body has a way of protecting itself from trauma. And this was trauma for all of us involved and for his family processing the aftermath.

In all of this, I’ve witnessed the strength of the human spirit and the value of family and community love, support and prayers. Through a GoFundMe, $11,055 of a $16K goal has been raised to help cover Scooter’s medical expenses. And now this Sunday, there’s a second opportunity to give.

This is not just about donating money to pay medical bills. This is also about uplifting, surrounding, supporting, caring, embracing and loving on a man who is grateful to be alive.

© Copyright 2026 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Thoughts as we begin 2026 during these challenging times in the U.S. January 1, 2026

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I took this award-winning photo in 2012 at an International Festival in Faribault. To this day, it remains one of my favorite images reflecting diversity in my community. The gathered kids cared not about ethnicity, but only about breaking open a pinata. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo 2012)

AS THE NEW YEAR begins, I enter it with a whole lot of trepidation, uncertainty and concern. Feeling optimistic right now does not come easily. I fear for our country. I fear for my community. I fear for my Latino and Somali neighbors, targeted by the federal government. Yes, ICE agents are visible and active in Faribault. Though I have not seen them myself, this information comes from reliable sources.

I fear that we are becoming desensitized to the ICE snatchings. I fear we are becoming desensitized to the lies, the rhetoric, the hatred, the awfulness spewing from, well, way too many leaders and even everyday people.

A pin gifted to me by a friend this past summer. I now have it pinned to a small bag that holds my cellphone, my way of getting a message out there. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)

What happened to common decency and goodness and kindness? And due process? Why is anyone accepting suppression, oppression, racism, discrimination and more as OK, especially those who claim Christianity as their belief system? None of what’s happening is Christian, not according to my Christian beliefs anyway. Not according to the Bible I read.

Encouraging words posted near a garden in the heart of downtown Faribault many years ago. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)

It’s hard, really hard, to remain hopeful in the light of all this. But I try. My mom raised me to be caring, kind and compassionate. She lived that way, helping others through volunteerism and monetary gifts, but mostly through her kind, quiet, gentle and caring spirit. She treated everyone with love and compassion. I wish Mom was still alive so I could talk to her about all of this.

A simple directive on a tombstone at Valley Grove. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)

But sometimes the dead still speak to us. I don’t mean that in a literal sense, but rather in the legacies and words the once-living leave behind. It is one of the reasons I meander through cemeteries. Valley Grove Cemetery, rural Nerstrand, is one of those final resting places that offers an abundance of wisdom upon gravestones.

From my personal collection, a painting on burlap by Mexican artist Jose Maria de Servin that depicts peace. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)

One particular tombstone stands out for the many positive affirmations it lists under the banner, BLESSED ARE THE PEACEMAKERS. (And this means authentic peacemakers, not those who pretend or claim to practice/bring peace.) Under that gravestone header is this broader message: EVERYONE HAS SOME GIFTS THAT CAN MAKE OUR WORLD A LITTLE BETTER. I absolutely agree.

Among a long list of ways we can make the world a better place as listed on a tombstone at Valley Grove Cemetery. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)

Then, on the massive slab of stone, are written specific ways in which we can make the world better and live as peacemakers. I especially appreciate these two messages: TREAT OTHERS THE WAY YOU WANT TO BE TREATED. And BE KIND TO ALL AS YOU NEVER KNOW THEIR BURDENS.

Those are simple, uncomplicated directives that seem easy enough to follow. In 2026, it is my hope that we can shift back to being a caring country, where we treat others as we would like to be treated. And that is with kindness, compassion, care and love.

TELL ME: What are your hopes for 2026 in the U.S., your community? What are your concerns for the new year?

© Copyright 2026 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 tractor, pumpkins & a conversation after sunset October 1, 2025

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Parked at Thomas Gardens in Faribault, a late 1970s or early 1980s International tractor centers an autumn photo op scene. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2025)

ON THE EVENING of the autumn equinox, I headed to Faribault’s east side, crossing the viaduct over the Straight River to Thomas Gardens along St. Paul Road. The business was closed upon my arrival, which mattered not to me. I was here to photograph an International 274 tractor and pumpkins during “the golden hour.” That’s an hour before sunset or an hour after sunrise when the warm, soft glow of the setting or rising sun proves particularly lovely for taking photos.

The setting sun shines through an opening in the treeline as I shot this image. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2025)

As I framed the tractor, staged as a photo prop in an autumn scene of straw bales, varied colorful pumpkins and corn shocks, I noticed the golden orb of the sun peeking through the treeline across the street. I remained ever cognizant of the light, diminishing with each snap of the shutter button.

(Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2025)
(Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2025)
(Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2025)

I felt giddy as I photographed first that tractor and then masses of pumpkins outside the building. Colors popped in the perfect light. Multi-hued pumpkins. Deep orange ones. White ones. Yellow ones. Pumpkins with warty bumps, others smooth. Sooooo many pumpkins scattered across the street-side yard.

Thomas Gardens is housed in this building along St. Paul Road on Faribault’s east side. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2025)

I remember when the previous owners of 50-plus years piled pumpkins onto flatbed trailers parked inside and outside Twiehoff Gardens & Nursery. Matt and Stefanie Thomas bought the business in 2019. Matt grew up on a dairy farm near Dundas, which pleases me given I was also raised on a dairy farm. Like me, he understands hard work. On his business website, Thomas writes about teaching his three kids the value of hard work, teamwork and family values. This seems a good place to do that.

Mums for sale outside the greenhouses. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2025)

Here the Thomas family grows and sells garden-fresh vegetables, flowers and plants, plus markets honey, maple syrup, Christmas trees and more from their pole shed style building, greenhouses and the yard where I roamed with my 35mm Canon EOS 60D camera.

Mostly potted mums, but a few other flowers and plants, are for sale in autumn. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2025)

When I finished photographing the tractor and all those pumpkins, I moved onto the flowers, mostly mums. The flower of fall. Single colors and multi colors in pots. Oranges, yellows, rose, even white.

A pumpkin tops the tractor against a corn shock with a tint of pink in the sky. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2025)
I aimed my camera lens down for a closeup photo of a massive striped pumpkin. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2025)
Pumpkins set next to a tractor tire pop color in the grass. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2025)

I remained caught up in my photography until I glanced back at the tractor and the treeline. In that moment I realized I really wanted to watch the sun set at City View Park, just down the road a bit. It’s a beautiful site overlooking Faribault next to a city water tower and across the street from Trump’s Apple Orchard. We occasionally picnick here and watch the Fourth of July fireworks at this hilltop location.

Just after sunset at City View Park, Faribault. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2025)

But Randy and I arrived too late. I could see, as we pulled into the small parking lot, that the orange ball of the sun had already dropped leaving a skyline tinged with pink. Disappointment coursed through me.

Yet, others didn’t miss the sunset. Three teenage boys sat on a park bench facing the city overlook. As I walked toward them, I wondered why they were here, what they might be doing. Yes, I admit I thought they might be up to no good. I was wrong. They were here watching and photographing the sunset with their smartphones. I asked to see their pictures and they pulled out their phones and showed me the beauty I missed by my delayed arrival.

I took the opportunity then to praise them—to tell them how wonderful it was to see them outdoors, appreciating the sunset. Moments like this, generational interactions like this, conversations like this, matter. These youth understood the value of pausing to sit and watch the sun set across their city on the first evening of autumn. And I recognized the value of acknowledging that.

© Copyright 2025 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

“Life is good” moments at a piano recital May 20, 2025

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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.

© Copyright 2025 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Outside on a “summer” day with the grandkids in southern Minnesota March 29, 2025

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This photo taken at 4 p.m. Friday, March 28, shows the unusually high March temperature in Faribault. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo March 2025)

TWENTY-FOUR HOURS AGO, the temperature registered 81 degrees on the State Bank of Faribault sign in our historic downtown. At 4 p.m. Saturday, the temp read 38 degrees. That’s a 43-degree plunge. Such is the fickle nature of weather in southern Minnesota. One day summer. The next day winter.

Let’s talk that one day of summer. The two oldest of our three grandkids were here for a sleep-over Thursday into Friday afternoon. We took full advantage of the unseasonably warm temps with lots of time outdoors. Who wants to stay indoors when the sun is shining, the breeze is blowing and it feels like summer? None of us.

So out we went Friday morning, first to hang laundry on the clothesline, which didn’t interest Izzy, almost nine, and Isaac, six, quite as much as I had hoped. “We have a dryer,” Izzy informed me as she handed me clothespins. So does Grandma. But Grandma prefers hanging laundry outdoors, under the sky, under the sun, in the wind.

This looks just like the caterpillar found in our backyard on Friday morning. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)

A CATERPILLAR, SQUIRRELS, BRAMBLES & A ROCK

Time outdoors led to discoveries, like the woolly caterpillar Izzy found in the backyard and which she insisted was poisonous. I insisted it was not while using a dried maple leaf and a piece of bark to move the fuzzy ball to a safe place in a flowerbed. She worried and warned that I was not to touch the poisonous caterpillar. “Izzy, it’s not poisonous,” I repeated. I’m not sure she believed me.

We noted all the holes dotting the backyard, spots where squirrels dug for hidden walnuts. Empty shells littered the dormant lawn.

The previous evening, Grandpa led Izzy and Isaac up the hill through the woods behind our house. It’s a bit of a climb past fallen branches and brambles. But they were adventurous, determined to make it to the top, to Wapacuta Park. There they found the playground equipment rather scary—Grandpa concurred—but a gigantic rock a whole lot of fun as they scampered atop it. This is the same mammoth rock their mom, aunt and uncle climbed as kids. Life come full circle.

The Fleckenstein Bluffs Park playground. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)

TIME TO PLAY & TIME TO ASK SERIOUS QUESTIONS

Late Friday morning we headed to Fleckenstein Bluffs Park near downtown to a playground the kids found much more to their liking. Another rock (albeit fake) to climb, a towering climbing apparatus, musical instruments, sand diggers, mini spinning seats and more, including fossils imprinted in the fake rocks.

We spent time, too, on an overlook above the Straight River. There the grandparents had to answer questions about homelessness given the blue tent pitched alongside the river. “Why do they live in a tent?” Sometimes adults don’t have all the answers. But we tried. Izzy worried that the police were coming to arrest those living in the tent when she saw a cruiser driving down the bike trail. No, Izzy, they’re not going to arrest them.

Beavers have given up chewing on this tree along the Straight River, we discovered during a walk on Friday. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)

BEAVERS, GEESE, A HERON & MEMORIES

And so we followed the Straight River Trail, noting trees chewed by beavers, a sandbar in the river, chimes on an apartment balcony clinking in the wind, a pair of geese moving from land to river, a magnificent blue heron flying low above the water…then those geese again, swimming.

Izzy stopped to pluck stones from alongside the trail, dropping them into an empty yogurt cup she’d brought with her. We walked sometimes hand-in-hand, Isaac and Grandpa well ahead of us, also clasping hands. This time together in the outdoors is the stuff of memories, of learning, of connecting with nature.

This used bookshop in Faribault is a must-stop when the grandkids visit. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)

DRAGONS, TORNADOES & THE BIG WIDE WORLD

On the drive home, we stopped at Books on Central, a used bookstore run by the Rice County Area United Way. We like to take the kids there whenever they are in town. Izzy found a fantasy book about dragons she’s read, but wanted to own. And a nonfiction book about tornadoes. Isaac was looking for atlases. Jeanne, who volunteers at the bookshop, found two, as yet unprocessed, atlases in the back room. Isaac was happy, promptly sitting down to page through the books. We also chose a book for their baby cousin, Everett, in Wisconsin.

And so that was our day together. A time of laundry hanging, backyard observing, playing, walking and enveloping ourselves in nature. But above all, it was time for us as grandparents to be with our beloved grandchildren, simply enjoying an unseasonably warm late March day in southern Minnesota, “poisonous caterpillar” and all.

© Copyright 2025 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Oh, sweet baby boy, how I love you March 26, 2025

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A banner in downtown Madison, Wisconsin, shows the state capitol. I love Madison with its lakes, green space, bike trails, etc. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)

FOR WEEKS, RANDY AND I wanted to drive the four hours to Madison, Wisconsin, to visit our second daughter and her family. But each time, one of us was sick with or recovering from a cold. We were not about to make the trip until we were both fully healthy. Last weekend we were.

Friday morning we packed, loaded the van, then hit the road, crossing the Mississippi River into Wisconsin at La Crosse. That marks about the half-way point from Faribault to Madison. By early afternoon we’d arrived at our daughter and son-in-law’s home in the capital city.

Holding Grandpa’s finger. This is not Everett’s hand, but that of our eldest grandson, now in kindergarten. Photo used for illustration only. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)

I couldn’t exit the van fast enough. I wanted to see my grandson. Everett was born in mid-January and I’ve only seen him once in person since then. Video chats and photos filled the gap. But they are not the same, as we all know.

That sweet baby boy, who was an even 10 pounds at birth, now weighs nearly 17 pounds. He’s filled out. He’s smiling, cooing, interacting. And this grandma couldn’t have been happier. I watched him, cuddled him, played with him, read to him, talked to him, kissed him, rocked him, fed him, burped him, rubbed his tummy… Randy and I sent the parents out on a dinner date so they could have time alone together and we could have time alone with our grandson.

There’s nothing quite like spending time with a baby, especially a dear one, to make you forget about all the craziness happening in the world. And we know there’s plenty of chaos and reasons to feel concerned on multiple levels right now. I needed to be with Everett…to calm my spirit, to distract me, to remind me of love, of peace, of hope for the future.

In the days I spent with Everett, we bonded, grew our love for one another, gazed into each other’s eyes. Precious precious moments that I hold now in my memory, in my heart. I miss him so much already.

I called him sweet baby, darling boy, my love, all terms of endearment that carried a heart full of love.

(Book cover sourced online)

When I read It’s Hard to Be a Baby, a picture book written by Cheryl B. Klein and illustrated by Juana Medina, to Everett, his mama and I laughed. Babies have no idea, none, how difficult it is to be an adult sometimes. I’m thankful they don’t. But I suppose babies do struggle occasionally when we adults can’t figure out why they’re crying. Are they hungry, cold, tired, in need of a diaper change, bored…? None of us have quite figured out why Everett is so enamored with the living room ceiling fan. It’s not even turning. Yet he smiles broadly and coos every time he sees that fixture. It makes him so happy.

I love watching my second daughter with her son. Miranda’s a natural. So loving and tender, deeply in love with this baby who nearly cost her her life. She experienced severe postpartum hemorrhaging after Everret’s difficult birth. He was big; she is not. Miranda needed blood transfusions. A team of doctors and other medical staff at UnityPoint Health-Meriter Hospital in Madison worked to stop the bleeding and save her. I shall be forever grateful to them. This was a reminder that, yes, there can be complications and women can still die during childbirth.

Located at the entry point to Minnesota near La Crosse, Wisconsin. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)

Since Miranda became a mom, I feel, too, a strengthening of our relationship in this shared experience of motherhood. I’m the mother of three, the grandmother of three. Two of my grandkids live only 35 minutes away. But not Everett, and that’s hard. So I whispered in his ear, “Move closer to Minnesota.” Then I turned to ask my daughter, “Did you hear that?” She did.

© Copyright 2025 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Stories to make you feel better March 11, 2025

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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 nephew dance 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.

© Copyright 2025 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Valentine’s Day love, my version February 14, 2025

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Vintage valentines from my mom’s collection. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)

LOVE. It’s today’s buzzword, the reason behind Valentine’s Day, the universal day of love.

But let’s look beyond the romantic version of love connected to this day. Let’s look at who and what we love. Be specific. I’ll start. In the process, I expect you will learn a bit more about me.

First, I love my family. Obvious, right? Specifically, those dearest to me are my core family of Randy, Amber, Miranda, Caleb, Marc, John, Isabelle, Isaac and Everett. I should note here that my grandson Everett was born just a month ago, widening the circle of our family. I am happiest when we are all together. That last happened in August. Distance separates us and I’m talking Minnesota to Wisconsin to Massachusetts.

I also love my friends. I won’t name them. There are too many. But I feel grateful for friendship, including those who have become friends via the blogging world.

A positive message on a SCRABBLE board at LARK Toys, Kellogg, Minnesota. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)

TRAITS I LOVE IN PEOPLE

As long as we’re talking people, here are the traits I love, or most value, in individuals. Empathy, compassion and kindness. Honesty. And the ability to listen. I can’t even begin to tell you how often people turn a conversation around to focus on themselves. Just don’t.

Cheesecake. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)

FOODS I LOVE

When it comes to food, I love the following, in no particular order: cheesecake, thin crust spicy Italian sausage pizza from Basilleo’s 2.0 or the Signature Bar & Grill in Faribault, dark chocolate, peaches, homemade soup, cave-aged blue cheese from the Caves of Faribault (a division of Prairie Farms), s’mores, Minnesotan Amy Thielen’s Classic Chicken and Wild Rice Hotdish (not casserole; yes, I make this hotdish), treats from a bakery, garden-fresh tomatoes…and potlucks.

Autumn leaves in the Cannon River at the Cannon River Wilderness Park, Rice County, Minnesota. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)

LOVIN’ GREEN, NATURE & MORE

I love the color green. Always have. My eyes are green, a rarity in eye color. Green is also the hue of nature, another reason to like it.

I love when spring pops green in a shade that is indescribably vibrant. But I also love autumn, my favorite season actually, with its flaming treelines, its cobalt skies, its crisp air, its cooler days. I can bring out the flannel shirts then. I love flannel. Fashionista I am not. I could care less if my clothes are “in style” or not. I go for comfort. Flannel and boot-cut blue jeans, which I hear are now back in vogue due to a certain rapper performing during half-time of the Super Bowl. (Did anyone understand what he was saying? I didn’t.)

Rap is definitely not my style. But I love oldies music, oldies meaning songs from the 1970s by groups like Chicago, Bread and the Eagles. I also enjoy listening to contemporary Christian music on Twin Cities-based KTIS radio.

I typed a message on a vintage typewriter in a Hastings, Minnesota, antique shop many years ago. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)

FOR THE LOVE OF CREATIVITY

I prefer quiet, though, to music. Quiet allows me to write, which I absolutely love. No surprise there. I love the process, the way words flow and meld into something that becomes something. Something that holds meaning, entertains, fills me with a sense of purpose and accomplishment. I feel the same about photography. I love to read, too, especially mysteries or books that enlighten me.

A serene country scene just north of Lamberton in southern Redwood County in my native southwestern Minnesota. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)

LOVIN’ A WHOLE LOT MORE IN LIFE

This list of “loves” is getting lengthy, so here are some other random things I love: country drives along back gravel roads, visiting small towns, garage sales and thrift shops, art, time at the Horseshoe Lake cabin (not ours, but belonging to family), campfires, water rushing over rocks, vintage tablecloths and drinking glasses, the prairie, the woods, lilacs and zinnias.

Zinnias, a great cut, easy-to-grow-from-seed colorful flower that reminds me of Mom. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)

Whatever and whomever you love (feel free to share a few of your “loves” here), may you feel embraced by love, especially today. Happy Valentine’s Day!

© Copyright 2025 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Remembering Mom three years after her death January 13, 2025

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Me with my mom in January 2020, right before COVID restrictions stopped visits to care centers. I saw little of Mom in the final years of her life due to the pandemic. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo January 2020 by Randy Helbling)

TODAY, JANUARY 13, MARKS three years since my mom died. I hadn’t intended to write about this anniversary date. But then two friends blogged on topics that changed my mind.

My dear friend Beth Ann from North Carolina, who blogs at It’s Just Life, writes today about observing a grocery store encounter between a daughter and elderly mother that reminded her of her sweet mom whom she lost several years ago. The point of Beth Ann’s post is that grief comes in the most unexpected of moments and hits you hard. She’s right.

Hot fudge pudding cake slathered with real whipped cream and topped with sprinkles. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)

Then my friend Sue, who lives in Minnesota, winters in Arizona and blogs primarily about food at Ever Ready, published a post featuring Hot Fudge Sundae Cake. Waves of nostalgia and grief swept over me as I scrolled through Sue’s post. Hot Fudge Pudding Cake, as my family called this delectable, easy-to-make dessert, was a favorite of Mom’s and of me.

Neither Sue or Beth Ann could have known I would be reading their words on the third anniversary of Mom’s death. But I did. And it was meant to be because my grief needed an outlet. My friends’ writing prompted me to write this post.

The cover of the altered book created by Kathleen. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)

In the process of writing, I headed upstairs to pull a mini keepsake book from a closet. My friend Kathleen, formerly of Minnesota and now of Idaho, created the altered book for me following my mother’s death. She tapped into my blog to pull quotes, information and photos that truly summarize Mom’s life and our relationship. The book brims with words of love, faith, family and farm life, all at the essence of my mom. It truly is one of my most treasured possessions.

The first page in the keepsake book shows my mom holding me. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)

So on this day, while the grief of losing Mom feels particularly heavy, it is the creativity of friends that comforts me. Beth Ann’s “Right There in the Baking Aisle” resonates. Sue’s shared recipe brings smiles as I remember. And Kathleen’s keepsake mini altered book stirs within me so many memories of the mom I loved, and still love.

TELL ME: Who are you grieving? What can spark your grief? What comforts you in grief?

© Copyright 2025 Audrey Kletscher Helbling