Minnesota Prairie Roots

Writing and photography by Audrey Kletscher Helbling

Musings during a multi-day southern Minnesota blizzard March 15, 2026

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My husband, Randy, blows snow from our driveway Sunday morning. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo March 2026)

WHILE I SAT IN THE RECLINER hand-stitching loosened seams in a cuff of Randy’s flannel shirt and listening to “Face the Nation,” my husband was outdoors firing up the snowblower.

We are in the middle of a major winter storm in much of Minnesota. Snow began falling here Saturday evening and continues with some nine-plus inches of accumulation thus far in Faribault. Winds are whipping the new-fallen snow into a blizzard with no travel advised, roads closed, and more cancellations than I could possibly list. That includes cancellation of church services.

Little Prairie United Methodist Church, rural Dundas. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)

Across town, while I was stitching, then dicing celery and onions for the Chicken Wild Rice Hotdish I’ll make for supper, my friend Marian was tucked inside her home watching Little Prairie United Methodist Church services online. Broadcast not from the rural Dundas church, but from Pastor Penny Bonsell’s living room in nearby Northfield.

“She (the pastor) was in her slippers with a cup of coffee and her puppy needing to be removed from front and center!” Marian shared with me. “A close neighbor trudged through the snow to play the piano and she and her husband have beautiful voices. The puppy didn’t sing!”

Marian invited me to watch the service. I did. After I finished the breakfast dishes, ate the brunch Randy made, washed dishes again, and video chatted with my second daughter and one-year-old grandson four hours away in southeastern Wisconsin. Only light snow is falling in Madison.

Randy had just finished clearing the driveway and sidewalk when the snowplow came by, filling in the ends of the drive and walk with a deep ridge of snow. Back to blowing. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo March 2026)

Snow is still piling up here, falling thick and heavy. But the Rev. Bonsell gave thanks for the new white snow, which “reminds us to be clean and make a new start in life.” I appreciated her positive perspective, which can be difficult to consider when you’re out shoveling and blowing away snow in fierce winds as Randy did for 1½ hours this morning.

But as I watched the Little Prairie UMC Church service, I felt such peace. Pastor Bonsell has a calming voice, graceful and poetic. As she led the service from her cozy living room, fire blazing in the fireplace, slippers on her feet, sipping coffee, rocking in a rocking chair, I felt the comfort of words offered in song, prayer and in her message, “Restores My Soul” (based on Psalm 23). Said the pastor, “You are never, ever alone.” She also talked about light and darkness, referencing Ephesians 5:8-14 and choosing to live in the light, to choose good.

I took this photo early Sunday morning as the wind-driven snow began to pile up against the garage door. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo March 2026)

I didn’t intend to watch a church service when I was shaping the idea of this blog post around our winter storm. I attended worship at my church last evening given this morning’s service was canceled. But then my friend Marian’s words about the puppy and the pastor in slippers drew me to the Little Prairie UMC YouTube video.

Once online, I immediately felt at home in the pastor’s living room. I noticed a pillow with the directive to “Be Kind” positioned on a child-sized rocking chair. The fire blazed. The puppy roamed. Pianist Peter Webb sat poised at the piano.

Just like the Rev. Bonsell, I advised Randy to be careful while clearing the heavy snow. Here he blows open the sidewalk with dried hydrangea in the foreground. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo March 2026)

And the Rev. Bonsell, in her welcome on this “snowstormy day” (her words), advised everyone to be careful when shoveling the heavy snow. Then, before beginning the worship service, she asked for more people to make pies and salads for a March 27 Fish Dinner. She announced the Holy Week schedule and a 90th birthday party open house for twins Doris and Doug, showed a video of a youth group bowling outing, and more.

And during a sharing of the peace, typically hand-shaking, the pastor and her husband, Tom, kissed. That sealed it. The snow may be falling at a rapid rate as I write. The wind may be creating chaos in the world outside. But in a small southern Minnesota living room, a pastor brought peace and love in the middle of a blizzard that won’t end until 7 a.m. Monday.

© Copyright 2026 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Coming together in prayer, reflection & unity at Bishop Whipple’s church in Faribault February 5, 2026

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The service program cover featured an historic photo of Native Americans incarcerated at Ft. Snelling following the U.S.-Dakota War of 1862 prior to their deportation from Minnesota. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo February 2026)

WE GATHERED. On a day when I learned that a friend, an American citizen, was recently racially-profiled and stopped by ICE. On a day when I learned that ICE vehicles have been parked in my neighborhood. On a day when several Minnesota children were released from federal detainment in Texas. On a day when the border czar announced the draw-down of 700 federal agents (out of 3,000) in Minnesota. On this early February day, 75 of us gathered for an “Evening Prayer Service for Our Nation” at the Cathedral of Our Merciful Saviour in Faribault, Bishop Henry Whipple’s church.

The prayer service was open to anyone who wanted to attend in a church I’ve always considered especially welcoming and focused on serving community. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo February 2026)

I needed this service of prayer, scripture, Psalms, reflection and hymns to quiet my troubled spirit. But I needed, too, to hold space, to sit and stand and sing and pray in community, in support of anyone—especially our immigrant and refugee neighbors—illegally stopped, taken and/or detained by ICE.

A couple leans on one another during the service. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo February 2026)

This was not a protest service. Rather, this was a reflective, prayerful, unifying, worshipful coming together of people in my community who care deeply about their neighbors and about this nation.

People arrive for the 7 pm service inside the Cathedral of Our Merciful Saviour, Faribault. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo February 2026)

The Rev. James Zotalis welcomed attendees to the event held inside the massive Episcopal cathedral completed in 1869 under the leadership of Bishop Whipple. “Welcome to the Whipple building,” Zotalis said in opening his short homily. “This is the real Whipple building.”

Gathered inside the cathedral for the prayer service. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo February 2026)

He contrasted the beautiful church to the stark seven-story Whipple Federal Building 50 miles to the north that bears the good bishop’s name and which is now a temporary detention center for those detained by ICE in Minnesota. Conditions inside have been described as “inhumane” by officials who have visited the facility.

A portrait of Bishop Henry Whipple hanging inside the cathedral. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo February 2026)

The cathedral, Zotalis said, is a place of love and peace, its ministry modeled after that of Bishop Whipple and his first wife, Cornelia. Arriving here from Chicago in 1859, the couple had already served in dangerous areas of that city, connecting with people in tangible, helpful ways, much like we see Minnesotans stepping up and helping others today.

The Rev. Henry Doyle, left, a church member, and the Rev. James Zotalis, right, start the service with a processional. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo February 2026)

With a repeated directive to “always say no to evil,” Zotalis said Minnesotans have done just that since the invasion of our state by masked federal agents two months ago. He listed specifics: bringing food to people afraid to leave their homes, providing rides, offering free legal aid and peacefully protesting.

Among the many hymns we sang was #482, “Lord of all hopefulness.” (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo February 2026)

“Love your neighbor as yourself” was emphasized often in love-themed Scripture readings (Luke 10:27, I Corinthians 13:13, I John 4:11) during the Wednesday evening service. Like the good people of Minnesota today, Bishop Whipple showed that love long ago in his ministry to the Dakota people locally, across the state and during their imprisonment after the U.S.-Dakota War of 1862 at Fort Snelling, where the Whipple Federal Building is located. Whipple faced death threats for those who opposed his compassionate work with Native Americans.

Death. In a time of remembrance during Wednesday’s service, attendees could speak the names of “deceased and alive during this time of tragedy and strife.” I spoke first: “Renee Good.” Then another voice: “Alex Pretti.” And then an attendee read the names of 32 individuals who died in ICE detention in 2025. Thirty-two.

A woman holds a prayer book used often during the service. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo February 2026)

Many times my emotions verged on tears. As we asked, “Lord, keep this nation under your care.” As we sang “America the Beautiful.” As we prayed a Collect for Peace. As I thought of Jesus, who also lived in troubled times and who served with love and compassion.

Theme words of love, compassion, mercy and neighbor threaded throughout the service led by the reverends Zotalis and Henry Doyle. I could feel those words. And I could feel, too, the collective sense that we all needed this evening of prayer, scripture, Psalms, reflection and hymns to quiet our troubled spirits.

FYI: To watch a video of the service online, click here.

© Copyright 2026 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

An African spiritual plus my thoughts during Black History Month February 3, 2025

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This Nigerian-themed quilt art was created years ago by my friend Susan. The art reflects to me the joy of an African spiritual. The fabric came from Nigeria, where Susan’s father-in-law served as a Lutheran missionary. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)

THE SONG WAS UNEXPECTED during Sunday morning worship at the conservative Lutheran church I attend in Faribault. But it was fitting for the day and for my feelings, which have leaned deeply into discouragement recently.

The African American spiritual, “There Is a Balm in Gilead,” proved a temporary balm for my soul. The old school word “balm” holds a healing connotation. The song’s refrain encourages: There is a balm in Gilead to make the wounded whole. There is a balm in Gilead to heal the sin-sick soul.

As I sang the refrain, I wondered, what or where is Gilead? Later research revealed that, during Old Testament days, Gilead was a mountainous region east of the Jordan River and an important source of medicinal herbs. That makes sense as it relates to the lyrics.

Christ’s face in a stained glass window in the sanctuary of my church, Trinity Lutheran, Faribault. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)

In the New Testament, “balm of Gilead” refers not to an herb which heals physically, but to Jesus through whom spiritual healing comes. That also makes sense as it relates to lyrics of the song printed on page 749 of the Lutheran Service Book.

Events of recent weeks in this country have me feeling apprehensive, unsettled, worried, in need of a healing balm. I know I am not alone in these feelings as we face economic challenges, upheaval, chaos and uncertainties on endless levels. Each day seems to bring something of new concern. No matter where you stand politically or spiritually, you have to feel the tension and uncertainties in this country.

A snippet of a photo by Stephen Somerstein from the exhibit, “Selma to Montgomery: Marching Along the Voting Rights Trail,” which I saw at St. Olaf College in Northfield, Minnesota, in 2015. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)

On Sunday, as I sang the African American spiritual, I allowed myself to be swept into the healing words of hope and comfort. It was not lost on me that, sitting on the end of my pew, was a family of mixed race—an African American father, White mother and three biracial children, one a darling baby boy of ten months. I thought of my own newborn grandson, who is mixed race. What does the future hold for these two little boys? Will they face challenges simply because of their skin color? I’d like to think not. But…

And I thought, too, of the new calendar month of February, in which we celebrate Black History Month, focusing on Black history, culture and education. I reflect on slavery, on Civil Rights leaders, on racial disparities, diversity, equity and inclusion, wondering how I, personally, can educate myself and make a difference.

A message left by a visitor to the Selma exhibit at St. Olaf College. It’s so applicable to today. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)

It truly does start with each of us standing up for what is good and right and decent and not going along with what we know in our hearts, minds and souls to be wrong. And then, maybe then, we’ll find our balm in Gilead.

© Copyright 2025 Audrey Kletscher Helbling