Minnesota Prairie Roots

Writing and photography by Audrey Kletscher Helbling

Beyond BIG PLANS, the moments that matter most to this grandma February 20, 2023

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Book cover credit: Bob Shea’s website

“I GOT PLANS! BIG PLANS, I SAY!” shouts the boy standing atop the highest hill in town, the hill he just climbed.

His plans take him to a big city, to a board room filled with MUCKETY-MUCKS, into a helicopter and onto a football field. He becomes mayor and then President. He has, he continues proclaiming, BIG PLANS.

His plans take him into space, flying in a rocket ship built by the state of Pennsylvania and wearing a space suit made of potatoes from Idaho. There is seemingly nothing he cannot do.

My grandkids, Isabelle, 6, and Isaac, 4, loved this easy reader picture book written by Bob Shea and illustrated by Lane Smith. I did, too. It’s funny, empowering and imaginative. And I loved reading it to my grandchildren as we snuggled into the recliner under a fleece throw. I lost count of how many times I read BIG PLANS during their overnight weekend stay.

As a grandma, I hold onto the moments rather than big plans for my young grandchildren. I want them to appreciate who they are now and Isaac as much as stated the same when he said he wanted to remain a kid. For now he is—a little boy whose knowledge of the solar system is not to be challenged. Likewise his sister with dinosaurs.

Saturday into Sunday afternoon, toys and books and puzzles littered the living room turned playroom. Toys pulled from totes in the basement. A Fisher Price school bus, a fire truck, a bulldozer. Matchbox vehicles, including an ambulance with doors that open, Isabelle noted. Small plastic dinosaurs and larger roaring ones. Cootie and BINGO pulled from an upstairs closet. Toys that their mom and their aunt and their uncle and a host of other children have played with through the decades, imaginations unleashed.

Isaac created art with crayons, inspired by another book we read, Jigsaw Mystery in the Mail by Bob Graham. He drew a birthday cake with two flaming candles, asked me to cut out double layers of cake and then staple the two together to form a card. He asked for an envelope, then requested I address it to United States of America. Nothing more. He expects his mom to drop the card in a mailbox, just like in the book.

The animal-focused book Moon Glowing written by Elizabeth Partridge and illustrated by Joan Paley brought discussion about hibernating beavers, bats and bears. Maybe a bear lives inside the snow cave we discovered in the backyard, Isabelle and I considered. The snow den into which Izzy and I poked a stick three feet long, the stick easily swallowed. I considered for a moment that an animal might come raging out. Certainly not a bear, but…

So we moved onto fishing (Izzy’s idea). She dropped her line over the limestone wall, hauling in fish after fish after fish. I appreciated how creative her mind, how dry maple leaves topping the snow, mulching flowerbeds, morphed into sunnies and crappies and walleyes caught via her stick fishing pole. And then this first grader mentioned that she wished she really was fishing. And although it’s no longer truly safe to ice fish in Minnesota this season, there’s always next winter. Or fishing from the dock at the cabin this summer.

These were the moments of my weekend. No BIG PLANS. But something far better—time with these dear little ones. Time to hug and hold and hang onto the moments that matter most. Like the moment Isaac declared, “Peanut butter pancakes make me happy!”

© Copyright 2023 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Beyond books: Connecting at the library January 3, 2023

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Buckham Memorial Library, Faribault. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo November 2022)

I MET HER AT BUCKHAM Memorial Library on the final day of 2022 in front of the “Lucky Day” shelves. The two-unit section—one for fiction, one for nonfiction—features newly-released titles immediately available to library patrons. No reserving or waiting, just the luck of finding a new book on the shelves.

As I browsed the fiction, I noticed her approach from the right, pushing a walker. I scooted a tad to the left, giving her more space. I wanted her to feel comfortable as we stood side-by-side.

I don’t recall which of us spoke first, but I think I did. I rarely remain silent in the closeness of strangers. And she was close.

(Photo credit: Goodreads)

“Have you read that book?” I asked, pointing to Three Sisters by Heather Morris. She hadn’t. But she’d read The Tattooist of Auschwitz, also by Morris. I hadn’t. We talked about the books briefly, about the difficulty of reading these fictional stories of concentration camp atrocities. Yet, we agreed reading them was important, perhaps even necessary. She directed me toward the fiction section, strongly suggesting I check out The Tattooist. Now. I’d already learned this woman beside me was opinionated and strong.

I felt her eyes following me to the fiction shelves. “Did you find it?” she asked upon my return. When I shook my head no, my new book-loving friend called out to the reference desk librarian to find the missing book for me. The computer showed the book was lost. He ordered it from another library.

In the meantime, I indulged this older book lover as she handed me two novels pulled from the “Lucky Day” fiction shelves—Joy Fielding’s The Housekeeper and B.A. Paris’ The Prisoner. “Have you read these?” she asked. I hadn’t and accepted her choices. Turns out she likes thrillers and mysteries as much as I do, even referencing Nancy Drew as the books which long ago sparked her interest in mysteries. Those teen mysteries did the same for me. Her recommendation of The Prisoner, a psychological thriller, proved an excellent read. I finished it in three days. She also recommended New York Times bestselling author C.J. Box. I had too many books already, so tucked that name into my memory.

A section of my poem selected for publication in “This Was 2020…” (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)

Next I’ll move on to The Housekeeper, the other psychological suspense novel she chose for me, ironically with a character named Audrey. I told the book enthusiast that I am a writer and that since she selected two books for me, I wanted her to read an anthology that includes a poem I wrote. I struggled to remember the lengthy name of This Was 2020—Minnesotans Write About Pandemics and Social Justice in a Historic Year, a collection of poems and short stories published by the Ramsey County Library. But I remembered enough for the reference librarian to find the book on his computer and then on the shelves. I thumbed through the pages until I found Funeral During a Pandemic. “That’s me, my poem,” I pointed. We conversed briefly about the difficulties of my father-in-law’s funeral during the COVID-19 pandemic. I didn’t tell her that my mom died in January 2022, at the height of omicron, in a time when most people were no longer masking and large funerals were allowed. I could have penned a sequel poem.

A Boomerang Bag available to patrons at Buckham Memorial Library. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo May 2018)

Eventually we parted, me lugging a cloth Boomerang bag weighted by books, she shoving her walker with books inside a plastic bag. When I later aimed back toward the check out desk, she called out, “Can you mail this for me?” She thrust a bright yellow envelope toward my outstretched hand. I agreed to mail the get well card to her niece who’d fallen on the ice.

She left the library and I soon followed with my bag of books. She maneuvered beside a car parked in a handicap space. Even though offered assistance to wrangle her walker into a weathered white late 1980s K car, she refused. She had this. But she did express concern about navigating an icy patch of pavement leading to and next to her car. She feared falling and breaking bones, something that’s happened thrice already. I empathized, sharing that I’d also had a hip replacement and broken bones twice during falls. “We’re sisters,” I laughed. But I meant it. We share a broken bone history, a love of books and a habit of mailing greeting cards to those who are celebrating or grieving or in need of encouragement.

Some of the get well cards I received after a bone break. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)

“I love that you’re sending a get well card to your niece,” I said, waving the yellow envelope. I like to send cards, too. I’ll be sure to mail this.”

She replied, “I’m old school. I don’t even have a computer.”

“I need one to do my work—to write.”

“I always wanted to be a writer,” she blurted.

“It’s not too late,” I encouraged. A look flashed across her face, albeit briefly. A flash of possibility.

I had one final question. “What’s your name?”

“Noreen.” (Or maybe it’s Norene; I didn’t ask for the spelling.)

I don’t recall our parting words. But it doesn’t matter. I’d made a new book-loving, opinionated friend who dreamed of becoming a writer. It was, indeed, my lucky day at the library.

© Copyright 2022 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

From Cannon Falls: How a library quilt inspires November 5, 2021

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The inspiring quilt displayed at the Cannon Falls Library. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2021)

DREAM BIG. Be Creative. One World, Many Stories. Make a Splash.

Make a Splash! applies to more than reading. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2021)

Those phrases inspire. They push us to do our best. To pursue our passions. To make a difference. To tell our stories.

When I recently read those words on a colorful quilt gracing a wall in the Cannon Falls Library, I felt empowered.

The library quilt as inspiring art. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2021)

The messages have been part of Southeastern Libraries Cooperating summer promotionals to get kids into libraries and reading. They’re simple words and graphics. Kid-appealing. Eye-catching. Positive.

The top section of the quilt art. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2021)

As someone who values books and libraries, and the arts, I appreciate the works of the seamstress who stitched this quilt. It’s a good visual reminder to each of us—whether child, teen or adult—of our talents and worth. I may be good with words. You may be good with numbers. I celebrate that difference in talent (especially come tax time when I hand my financial records over to my accountant).

All Year Round With Little Frog was one of my granddaughter’s favorite books as a toddler. I would read and reread it to her whenever she visited, just as I did decades ago to her Uncle Caleb. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)

I’ve always loved books and now I have the joy of reading books to my grandchildren, ages nearly three and 5 ½. Books pack shelves in their toy room with more books from the library. Their parents value books.

The world of words is opening even wider to Isabelle, who is in kindergarten. During a recent visit, I would say a word and she would guess the starting letter. Her face lit with sheer delight in determining the correct letter. Her mind is beginning to connect—to understand that sounds define letters which form words and then sentences and stories. I can’t wait to hear her read.

One World, Many Stories… (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2021)

So when I read about dreaming big and being creative and making a splash in this world of many stories, I think of my precious grandchildren. And I hope that in some small way, I inspire them to be all they can be. And one way to do that is via books, art and modeling creativity.

© Copyright 2021 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Long-time patron leaves up to $2.7 million to Faribault library October 22, 2021

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Robert Crandall. (Photo source: Parker Kohl Funeral Home)

HE LIKED HIKING and biking. John Wayne movies. Bacon. Collecting stamps. Vacationing in Mexico. Playing cards.

Robert L. Crandall, as described in his January 2021 obituary, seems a man of many interests. He also spoke Spanish fluently. He watched CNBC to stay updated on the stock market. And, also worth noting in the Parker Kohl Funeral Home summary of his life, Bob “spent many hours at the Buckham Memorial Library studying and reading books on investing.”

Buckham Memorial Library, Faribault, Minnesota.(Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)

It is that final notation of his interests which today holds great significance. This week my community of Faribault learned that Bob left a financial gift of $2.5-$2.7 million to Buckham Memorial Library. The place where he found books that helped him make sound, and lucrative, financial investments.

His is a remarkable gift. Not due only to the mega amount of millions of dollars, but also because of Bob’s appreciation for library resources housed in his beloved local library. He directed that his gift be used specifically for public library purposes in Faribault.

Library books and magazines I’ve read. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)

Like Bob, I’ve long valued libraries given my love of books and reading. However, unlike Bob, I’ve never read a single volume on investments. But, via reading, I’ve learned much about the craft of writing. My son, too, learned the basics of software coding by studying thick books checked out from Buckham Library. Today he is pursuing his PhD in computer science.

Clearly, Bob recognized the importance of public libraries. I’d like to think he understood that libraries make knowledge accessible to all of us. No matter our education, our income, our anything. As a child living near a rural southwestern Minnesota community without a public library, I longed for a library. Today I live blocks away from Buckham Library and frequent it often. My daughters worked there as pages while in high school.

Bob attended high schools in Anoka (his birthplace) and Elk River, eventually landing in southern Minnesota to work at the former Faribault Regional Center. His obit mentions nothing of family, only that his parents preceded him in death. He died in January at age 93 with graveside services and burial at Maple Lawn Cemetery.

The obituary describing Bob reveals a man with multiple interests and with many friends at his final home, Milestone Senior Living in Faribault. His obit hints of financial wealth through the lens of hindsight. I expect, though, that Bob counted his wealth not primarily via the success of his investments, but by the wealth of his interests and by the wealth of words printed in books shelved at his local library.

Through his generous gift to Buckham Memorial Library, Bob inspires us to learn, to read, to discover how books can enlighten and change our lives, grow our knowledge. And that, too, is his legacy.

© Copyright 2021 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

Source credits: Parker Kohl Funeral Home & the Faribault Daily News

 

Finally, well into COVID-19, I go to the library August 11, 2020

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Buckham Memorial Library, Faribault. Minnesota Prairie Roots file photo.

 

I’VE PREVIOUSLY POSTED about my deep love of libraries tracing back to my childhood. As a child, I had limited access to books. My small rural Minnesota community had no library. Nor did my elementary school, which sourced books from the county library 20 miles away in Redwood Falls. On occasion, I would be among students selected to board a school bus to travel to that library and return with books temporarily borrowed for our school. I loved those opportunities to browse and choose.

 

The LFL installed outside the community owned Vesta Cafe in July 2012. Minnesota Prairie Roots file photo 2012.

 

Today my hometown of Vesta still does not have a public library. County bookmobile service ended long ago with budget cuts. But, thanks to my efforts and those of locals and the generosity of Little Free Library co-founder Todd Bol, a LFL sits outside the Vesta Cafe with additional materials inside. Bol gifted the mini library to my hometown in July 2012.

 

A LFL in downtown Decorah, Iowa. Minnesota Prairie Roots file photo.

 

Fast forward eight years and these mini libraries are seemingly everywhere. And during a global pandemic, especially when public libraries closed for a period (some still with restricted hours), the LFLs proved invaluable to book lovers like me. I found a few good books to read, but still longed to step inside a public library with an abundance of reading materials. That happened three weeks ago.

 

This photograph was taken last September (pre pandemic) outside the Northfield Public Library during a cultural event there.

 

Randy and I headed up to neighboring Northfield on a recent Saturday afternoon to look for and check out items at the library. Unlike Buckham Memorial Library in Faribault, the Northfield Public Library reopened months ago (May 26) for regular hours that include evenings and weekends. That makes it accessible to everyone. Masking, social distancing and other protocols are in place and required to protect patrons and staff.

 

The books and magazines I checked out from the Northfield library.

 

I arrived at the NPL with a list of books I wanted. I wasn’t sure computers would be available to access the card catalog. Because I am unfamiliar with the lay-out of the library, I needed help to find some titles and staff generously assisted. I left with a bag full of seven books and two magazines.

 

 

Since then, I’ve been happily reading my stash of Minnesota-authored books. Only one—Love Thy Neighbor, A Muslim Doctor’s Struggle for Home in Rural America by Ayaz Virji with Alan Eisenstock—was not on my list. I spotted the book on a shelf of library staff picks, this one recommended by Sue. I read the book in a single day. One day. That’s how good this book is and how necessary to read. Especially today when headlines daily reveal instances of hatred, racism and so much more dividing our country. Insensitive, inflammatory, just plain horrible words and actions, including in southern Minnesota.

In summary, Love Thy Neighbor is the story of a medical doctor who relocates his family from a busy eastern urban setting to rural southwestern Minnesota to practice medicine as he desires, with a deeper personal connection to patients. Initially, all goes well and Dr. Virji and his family find themselves settling in, accepted, enjoying their new life in rural Minnesota. But then the November 2016 election happens and things begin to change. And that is the focus of this book—the shift in attitudes toward Muslims, how that negativity affected this small town family doctor and his family, and what he did about it.

I’d encourage you to read this enlightening book that recaps Virji’s struggles and the community talks he gave to help those in his small Minnesota community (and elsewhere) to understand his faith and the challenges he faces in a more toxic national environment.

 

 

Once I finished that book, I moved onto another environment—into the Boundary Waters Canoe Area Wilderness of northern Minnesota in A Year in the Wilderness, Bearing Witness in the Boundary Waters by Amy and Dave Freeman. It’s been an enjoyable escape into the remote wild, to a place I’ve only ever visited through others. The Freemans, like Dr. Virji, wrote their book with a purpose. To educate, to enlighten and to protect the BWCAW from sulfide-ore copper mining. Incredible photos enhance this detailed documentation of living for a year in the wild. I’d highly recommend this title also.

 

I especially enjoy reading books by Minnesotans and appreciate the Northfield library tagging these books with Minnesota-shaped art.

 

The remaining books in my library book stash are mysteries/mystery thrillers, my preferred genre. I quickly read Desolation Mountain by one of my favorite Minnesota authors, William Kent Krueger. Interestingly enough, that fictional story in the Cork O’Connor series also references potential mining near the BWCAW.

New-to-me author Chris Norbury’s books, Castle Danger and Straight River, also connect to the northeastern Minnesota wilderness. And southern Minnesota, where the main character returns to the family farm in Straight River. I always enjoy reading books that include familiar places. Norbury lives in Owatonna and references area communities. And those of you who grew up in this region recognize that the book titles are actually an unincorporated community in northeastern Minnesota and a river here in southern Minnesota.

I’m determined to stretch my reading beyond the seed mystery love planted decades ago through Nancy Drew books. To that end, I appreciate when library staff pull and showcase books they recommend. Like Dr. Virji’s book.

And I appreciate libraries. I look forward to the day when Faribault’s library opens again for regular hours. Currently, it’s open by appointment only, for 30-minute Browse-and-Go Visits between 10 am – 5 pm weekdays or for No-Contact Curbside Pickup. Because Randy is gone to work between those hours, he has no opportunity to get books locally. And so we will continue our trips to Northfield.

Now, you may wonder why these two communities within 20 minutes of each other and in the same county differ in library reopening. I expect it has much to do with numbers, usage and demographics as it relates to COVID-19. My county of Rice, according to information posted by Rice County Public Health on August 7, has had 1,020 lab confirmed cases* of COVID since March. That breaks down to 830 cases in Faribault. Northfield has had far fewer at 141. The balance of 49 cases are spread throughout other communities in Rice County.

I can only speculate that numbers factor into local library decisions about operations. But who knows? I am a word person, not a numbers person.

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FYI: My friend Sue Ready, a book lover and writer who lives in the Minnesota northwoods, is a good source of info about Minnesota-authored books. She reviews books on her Ever Ready blog, Click here. Sue also heads up the Northwoods Art & Book Festival in Hackensack, MN., which brings together Minnesota artists and authors. This year’s event was canceled due to COVID-19.

* The number of COVID-19 cases in Rice County as of Monday, August 10, were 1,038.

© Copyright 2020 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

What to read, or not, during a global pandemic March 17, 2020

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The sun rises east of Faribault. Minnesota Prairie Roots file photo.

 

WITH A RECENT OVERLOAD of reading and listening to media reports on coronavirus, I need mental diversions. I continue to start each day by praying and reading devotionals. That’s mostly unchanged from pre-COVID, although the number and types of prayers are fluid. Beginning my morning this way calms and centers me. As a woman of faith, I need this reassuring, peaceful mindset that God is in control and will see us through this pandemic.

In the evenings, I settle into my recliner with a book or a magazine and hope that my tired eyes won’t cross (a vision problem fixed as a child, but not fixable again), rendering the pages unreadable. Sometimes I struggle to stay awake.

 

Buckham Memorial Library, Faribault, Minnesota Prairie Roots file photo.

 

I love to read. For that reason I’m especially thankful I got to the library on Saturday and stocked up on reading materials. No empty shelves there. The City of Faribault closed Buckham Memorial Library on Monday to help mitigate the spread of COVID-19. We’ve no confirmed cases in my county. Yet. The library closing continues until the end of the month. Maybe longer. I appreciate that city leaders are being proactive in declaring a local state of emergency rather than reactive.

 

In Audrey’s reading pile.

 

At the time I visited the library, I had no idea the facility would close two days later. I’m glad I chose as many magazines and books as I did. I checked out six magazines ranging from architectural to lifestyle to food. And I have a stash of five books covering topics from farming to murders in Minnesota to mental health and more.

 

In Randy’s reading selections.

 

Now compare that to what my husband chose. Randy, not nearly as much of a reader as me, selected books about Putin, fish in Minnesota and, get this, plagues. Or more specifically, Diseases in History—Plague by Kevin Cunningham. As if we don’t have enough to think about with the current coronavirus global pandemic. Let’s toss in learning about the bubonic plague, the Black Death, the flu…

© Copyright 2020 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

For the love of books, a spotlight on several Little Free Libraries October 22, 2018

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I was delighted to find a Little Free Library near my son’s apartment when I visited him in Somerville, Massachusetts, in May of 2016. Minnesota Prairie Roots file photo.

 

WHENEVER I SPOT A LITTLE FREE LIBRARY, I feel a deep appreciation for the stewards of these mini libraries.

The ability to read, as I see it, is the foundation of learning. But to read, you need access to books. Not everyone has that, whether by geographical location or lack of money for books.

So those individuals who place a Little Free Library in their yards (or elsewhere) and then stock and restock shelves have my gratitude. They realize the importance of easy 24/7 access to books.

 

The LFL Todd and Susan Bol installed outside the community-owned Vesta Cafe. Minnesota Prairie Roots file photo 2012.

 

I grew up in a rural Minnesota community without a library. I understand what it’s like to be without library books. But thanks to Little Free Library founder Todd Bol, my hometown of Vesta has had a small public library since July 1, 2012. A Little Free Library. Todd gifted that to this small farming town. I am grateful.

 

A LFL in downtown Decorah, Iowa.

 

Recently I spotted two particularly distinct Little Free Libraries, one in the heart of downtown Decorah, one of my favorite northeastern Iowa cities. The library sits in a public plaza next to Oneota Community Food Co-op. That it’s barn-shaped seems especially fitting in a primarily agricultural state. A red barn remains an iconic symbol of rural life.

I grabbed a hardcover copy of James Patterson’s Double Cross with every intention of starting to read the book while in Decorah. That never happened and now the book sits on my to-read pile back here in Minnesota. First I need to finish The Girls of Ames—A Story of Women & a Forty-Year Friendship by Jeffrey Zaslow. The national bestseller published in 2009. The book holds special interest for me given one of the women taught journalism at Faribault High School and served as advisor to the student newspaper when my second daughter was co-editor. It’s an excellent read. And quite revealing.

But I digress.

 

 

A variety of books for all ages fill an eye-catching LFL posted at 805 State Street in Waseca. It’s designed as a TARDIS, the featured mode of transportation on the BBC sci-fi television show “Doctor Who.” I know nothing about the show. To me, the TARDIS resembles a blue phone booth.

 

 

The stewards of the Waseca TARDIS do a great job of visually promoting the LFL with the library now seasonally decorated for autumn and Halloween. Inside, they’ve also stocked Halloween-themed books. They seem to have a lot of fun with their LFL. I expect given its location along one of Waseca’s main arteries that the library is well-used.

 

 

What kid wouldn’t be drawn to a mini TARDIS? Or adult for that matter?

 

 

 

I love when folks run with the LFL idea and get especially creative, all for the purpose of getting books into the hands of others.

 

A cat watched as I photographed the TARDIS LFL.

 

FYI: This post is dedicated to Todd Bol, who founded the Little Free Library movement and who died on October 18 of pancreatic cancer.

© Copyright 2018 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Remembering with gratitude Todd Bol, founder of the Little Free Library October 18, 2018

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The Redwood Falls Gazette editor Troy Krause, right, interviews Todd Bol, co-founder of the Little Free Library in Vesta in early July 2012.  Minnesota Prairie Roots file photo 2012.

 

TODD BOL DIED ON THURSDAY from pancreatic cancer.

 

The beautiful handcrafted LFL donated to my hometown of Vesta. Minnesota Prairie Roots file photo 2012.

 

I met him briefly in July 2012 when he drove three hours from Hudson, Wisconsin, to my hometown on the southwestern Minnesota prairie. He delivered a Little Free Library, fulfilling my life-long dream for a library in Vesta.

 

The team that worked to bring a Little Free Library to Vesta includes Dorothy Marquardt, left, and Karen Lemcke, representing the sponsoring Vesta Commercial Club, LFL co-founder Todd Bol and me (holding a copy of a poetry anthology I donated). Minnesota Prairie Roots file photo 2012 by Randy Helbling.

 

I shall be forever grateful to this visionary’s gift of a mini library and books. My mom used that LFL. So did extended family and others in and around the small farming community. Folks operating the Vesta Cafe expanded the library, placing shelves inside the restaurant for more books. Locals tended the outdoor library Bol installed near the cafe entrance.

 

The LFL Todd and Susan Bol installed outside the community owned Vesta Cafe. Minnesota Prairie Roots file photo 2012.

 

Now, all these years later, the founder of the Little Free Library leaves a world-wide legacy of literacy with 75,000-plus officially registered libraries in 88 countries.

 

The books Todd Bol and I placed inside Vesta’s LFL on July 1, 2012. He brought books donated by several Twin Cities publishers and I brought books from my personal collection. I have since collected and donated an additional 40 books. A retired librarian from nearby Wabasso donated eight bags of books, primarily mysteries and the cafe managers also donated books. Minnesota Prairie Roots file photo 2012.

 

And one of those is in my hometown because one man cared enough about a small town in the middle of nowhere to deliver the seed plant for the Small Towns Minnesota LFL Movement. Because of Todd’s generosity, his kindness, his love of books, my hometown has a library. As a lover of books, of the written word, I am grateful.

 

One of many Little Free Libraries in Faribault, where I’ve lived since 1982. Minnesota Prairie Roots file photo.

 

TELL ME: Are there Little Free Libraries in your community? I’d like to hear your LFL stories in honor of Todd Bol.

FYI: Click here to read the original post I wrote about Todd’s visit to my hometown to install the LFL.

PLEASE CHECK BACK to see a memorable LFL I spotted recently in Waseca.

 

© Copyright 2018 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Of books & puzzles & loving my granddaughter April 3, 2018

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Grandpa and granddaughter work together on a puzzle in the morning light.

 

PAJAMA CLAD FEET SLAP against wood as Izzy runs to meet me in the sunshine of a Sunday morning. My smile widens as I scoop my granddaughter into an embrace, my arms and lips kissing her with love. Oh, what joy in the morning.

We are the only two up and I’m enjoying this solo time with Izzy. The evening before, it was three of us—Izzy, Grandpa and me—hanging out while her mom and dad enjoyed dinner and a concert.

Every time I see Isabelle, which is about once a month, she’s changed, grown and learned new words, new skills, new ways to make Grandma smile.

 

 

Books remain her great love. This visit, I read, among many other titles, Pat the Bunny, the same book I read to her mama decades ago. There’s something endearing about familiar words passed from generation to generation. There’s something remarkable, too, about the act of reading to someone you love. The closeness, the teaching moments, the interaction, the bonding over words and pictures imprints love. As I cuddle Izzy in the bend of my arm, her lean body pressed against me, I feel an overwhelming, nearly indescribable, love for this almost two-year-old.

 

 

When I watch my husband put puzzles together with his granddaughter, I experience the same. Likewise when I observe Izzy with her mom and dad, other grandparents and extended family. This little girl is loved by many from West Coast to East Coast and in between.

 

 

On this visit, Izzy demonstrates that she’s learning her letters and numbers. She’s got “o” down and the hoot of owls, a favorite for awhile. But now she loves Poppy, her new best friend from the movie “Trolls.” And she likes Elmo and Daniel the Tiger and Minnie Mouse and… She’s stringing words together, counting to five, learning her colors. She’s holding up two fingers to indicate that she will soon turn two.

I see the independent traits of a two-year-old emerging. I see, too, her endless energy. I swing Isabelle upward and back down just to hear her laugh. (There’s a reason I lift weights.) And I reread the same books just to make her happy. I am thankful I can be part of this growing, this learning, this loving. There’s nothing quite like being a grandma.

© Copyright 2018 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Passing a love of books onto the next generation November 30, 2017

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My granddaughter with a book.

 

I HAVE ALWAYS loved books. Always. They have taught, inspired, uplifted, entertained and challenged me and so much more.

 

I didn’t have many books as a young child because my parents couldn’t afford them. But I had this one, which I recently spotted (and should have bought) at a Pequot Lakes antique shop

 

A favorite childhood storybook, Three Billy Goats Gruff, instilled in me a fondness for goats and for fairy tales. And a beginning reader book, Joey the Kangaroo, endeared me to kangaroos. As my reading skills advanced, I treasured my hardcover copies of Little House on the Prairie, The Bobbsey Twins, Little Women and The Five Little Peppers.

Somewhere in that time-frame I discovered Nancy Drew and the Hardy Boys. Those series led to a life-long love of mysteries, my favorite genre.

I thrilled in bringing home book orders from school and ordering a paperback or two to add to my bedroom bookshelf. Even though money was tight in our family, Mom allowed me to select books like Reflections on a Gift of Watermelon Pickle and Other Modern Verse.

 

When Izzy visits, she often heads straight for this basket crammed with 14 books (current count) and a few toys. While I washed dishes one morning, she pulled the books from the basket one-by-one and “read” each one.

 

When I became a mom in 1986 and birthed more children 21 months and six years later, my time to indulge in leisurely reading vanished. Instead, I found myself with a baby or child on my lap or snuggled next to me on the couch with hardboard and picture books in hand. When my eldest turned six, I was already reading The Little House and Betsy-Tacy series to her and her four-year-old sister.

 

When Izzy opened an I Spy book, I showed her how a matchbox bus matched the photo. I said the word “bus,” then repeated myself. At 20 months, she’s learning new words at a rapid pace.

 

I hold dear those memories of reading to Amber, Miranda and Caleb. All three of my kids love to read. Miranda fixated on horses for awhile, our local librarian Mary Jane always on the watch for new equine books.

 

I love this photo of Izzy “reading.” She didn’t even notice me with my camera, so engrossed was she in her book.

 

Reminders of those youthful passions for reading linger in bookshelves packed with science fiction and fantasy books in Caleb’s former bedroom. My son also frequented the nonfiction section of the local library seeking out books to teach himself juggling, magic tricks, computer programming and more. He loves to learn and never wanted to wait for a teacher to teach him. Today, with a computer science degree, he works in that field and continues to pursue learning. He holds an innate desire and passion for knowledge.

Both of my girls worked in the local library while in high school and later at their respective college libraries. They have never been far from books—whether listening to stories read at home or at library story hour, participating in summer reading programs, filing books on library shelves or simply just reading on their own.

 

One of Izzy’s favorite books to read at my house is All Year Round With Little Frog. When she pushes on the plastic frog, it squeaks. I read this book to Izzy’s Uncle Caleb more than 20 years ago.

 

My kids are grown and gone now. But the importance of reading remains, circling back now to the next generation. My granddaughter, Isabelle, loves to page through books and to be read to by her parents and others who love her, including me. She’s already completed her first summer reading program, attends storytime at the library and has a significant collection of books.

 

My husband, Randy, reads to his granddaughter during an overnight stay at our house several months ago.

 

Izzy has received, says my librarian friend Kathleen, “the gift of generational literacy.” I’ve never thought of the continuum of loving books in that way. But I love that phrase. “Miss Izzy loves books because you instilled that love in her mom (and her sister and brother)…and now, another generation benefits…and on and on,” Kathleen observed. Izzy’s daddy, too, enjoys reading, a gift of generational literacy also passed from his family.

 

Izzy pages through her mama’s childhood book, Moo, Moo, Peekaboo.

 

To watch Isabelle page through books I once read to her mama, aunt or uncle brings me much joy. The words I read some 30 years ago tumble from my memory as I hold Izzy close and recite from memory Moo, moo! Peekaboo, we see you, cow!

 

TELL ME: Have you received the gift of generational literacy and/or passed that gift along?

© Copyright 2017 Audrey Kletscher Helbling