Kim's County Line: October 2025

Sunrise, October 1, 2025, over a hay field.

I finished a book last night. That is not unusual. But this book - Theo of Golden - will likely stay with me for quite some time.

I had seen glowing posts about the book on some Facebook book groups. The cover didn't immediately grab my attention. We've talked about the power of book covers at the Recently Read Book Club I attend monthly at my Stafford hometown library, the Nora E. Larabee Memorial Library. What is it that grabs our attention and makes us want to crack the book spine?

Still, while not overly enthused by the cover, I did check with the Hutchinson Public Library, but it wasn't in their collection.

However, I stumbled across it as I helped arrange books for our church's Oktoberfest book sale this coming Friday and Saturday. I immediately paid my 50 cents and took it home.

I was surprised to discover it was self-published. Books that get their start that way rarely find much success. But, as I wiped tears from my eyes and closed the book last night, I understood why it defied the odds. (And, for the record, that wasn't the first time I'd had tears as I read this beautifully-written book with a timely message.)

Here's a synopsis:

Theo of Golden is the endearing story of a curious old man who quietly moves into a southern city and, for reasons unknown to anyone but himself, undertakes a campaign of anonymous generosity. Theo’s love for people, combined with his fondness for books, art, birds, and story, unite in a colorful expression of outreach and affection. Stories are shared, friendships are born, and lives, in response to his inexplicable kindness, are affirmed and transformed. The old man, no stranger to sadness and loss, quickly becomes a welcome presence in the community but his new friends and neighbors wonder, who is Theo? And why is he here? Theo of Golden is a beautifully crafted story about the power of creative generosity, the importance of wonder to a purposeful life and the far-reaching possibilities of anonymous kindness.

This morning, I woke up to news of a government shutdown ... more political finger pointing ... a caravan that brought a police officer killed in duty back home to rural Kansas ... more gun violence overnight ... and I despaired. But, as I walked by the window, I saw color in the sky and figured it was better for my mental health to drive down the road to watch the sunrise, rather than watch more of the newscast.

Milo field sunrise panorama, October 1, 2025

I was probably a few minutes later than I should have been, but it was well worth the effort. And it again reminded me of the book. Besides Theo's generosity to his new neighbors, he was attuned to the natural world around him - the birds, the flowers, the trees, the sunset and even feathers.

Ironically, not long before I started reading the book - which features a single feather on its cover - I saw this blue feather lying in the grass as I got into the car to leave. And I couldn't resist taking a photo. Honestly, at the time, I was thinking about how I might be able to use the photo to illustrate the Emily Dickinson quote:

“Hope” is the thing with feathers -

That perches in the soul -

And sings the tune without the words -

And never stops - at all -

In the book, Theo meets new people at a bench by a fountain. At another bench near the river, he sits under a tree and watches at 7 o'clock each evening as the sun goes down. Maybe that thought about Dickinson's "hope" wasn't all that far off from Theo's philosophy of life either.

Theo's bench - From the author's website

At one point of the book, Theo talks to one of his new friends about "good art." But his answer turns out to be about much more than just "art." It's about life.

It might not make a of of sense, but for anything to be good, truly good, there must be love in it. I'm not even sure I know fully what that means, but the older I get, the more I believe it. There must be love for the gift itself, love for the subject being depicted or the story being told and love for the audience. Whether the art is sculpture, farming, teaching, lawmaking, medicine, music or raising a child, if love is not in it - at the very heart of it - it might be skillful, marketable, or popular, but I doubt it is truly good. Nothing is what it's supposed to be if love is not at the core.

From Theo of Golden by Allen Levi

For me, messages that I'm supposed to "get" often arrive unbidden from multiple directions. This morning after my return from the sunrise chase, I opened an email devotional from The Upper Room and again read the words of the Prayer of Saint Francis of Assisi:

Lord, make me an instrument of your peace:

Where there is hatred, let me sow love;

Where there is injury, pardon;

Where there is doubt, faith;

Where there is despair, hope;

Where there is darkness, light;

And where there is sadness, joy.

Sometimes, it's hard to battle my way through those darker emotions - the hatred, the injury, the doubt, despair, darkness and sadness. But maybe we can find it as we pay attention to the small things around us. I spent some time this morning on the author's website, and read several of his essays, including "Taking the time to see" and "Learning Small Things Matter is Really No Small Thing." Those are themes I often talk about here at my little spot on the internet.

And, thankfully, in the midst of all the other stuff, there's plenty of small "miracles" to open our eyes to see ...

We've just experienced the Monarch butterflies' annual migration through our area.

Even the search for butterflies can remind us that it may take some time and effort. I had trouble capturing photos of butterflies at rest. Most were flitting around high in the trees. But persistence paid off - a few times, at least.

The butterflies also share a message of perseverance and triumphing over obstacles as they make their way from northern climes to their wintering grounds in Mexico.