Reflections on Our Second Year at the Minnesota State Fair

Almost two weeks of this month have already gone by, and these last days have been hard—very hard from every angle. My body is still tired from the long days as a vendor at the Minnesota State Fair. My mind is heavy, struggling to process the heartbreaking incident at the Annunciation Christian School. And my heart aches for the pain unfolding in my home country of Nepal.

Yet, in the middle of all this, I remain standing—tall, hopeful, and grateful, even when I feel the cracks. Today, I want to take a moment to reflect on our second year as a vendor at the Minnesota State Fair. Life feels heavy, but I know it’s important to pause, look back, and hold a thankful heart for the blessings.

This year, I entered the fair with practical expectations and one big promise to myself: I would take care of my body and mind. And I did. I made sure we had healthy food, lots of water, the right mat and shoes to stand on, and even a cot tucked away at the back of the booth where I could rest. I let go of control and trusted that God’s will would carry us through. That mindset changed everything—it gave me peace and reminded me simply to be.

And what a gift—the weather for all 12 days was the best we could have hoped for.

The true highlight of the fair wasn’t sales—it was people. The stories, the kindness, and the connections are what stay with me.

• A middle-aged woman came to tell me how much she loved the hemp elephant bag and pink felted keychain she bought from us last year. She said she treasures that bag and carries it only on special occasions. Her words warmed my heart, and I can’t wait to share them with the artisan who made it.

• Another customer came to our booth four days in a row—bringing family and friends each time. He even bought gifts for his mother. His thoughtfulness made me pray that my own son grows up to be as caring as him.

• A repeat customer from last year told us she had purchased six shawls because of the unique patterns and textures. Sharing Nepal’s rich tradition of pashmina and yak wool through our shawls means so much to me—it’s a piece of my homeland woven into every sale.

• A young woman visiting from Utah said she wished we had a store near her home. She left with colorful felt items, saying they bring her joy. Hearing that makes all the hard days worth it.

• College students fell in love with our felt flower collection. One even sent me a photo of her dorm room decorated with the flowers she bought—it brought me so much joy to know our boutique collection is spreading happiness, just as I dreamed when I started it.

• On the very last day, two young customers came to the booth just minutes before closing. We were just $65 away from reaching our sales goal. They looked around, chose items with joy, and made that purchase—not because they had to, but because they wanted to help. My sister and I had tears in our eyes. That moment reminded me that people do care, and that sometimes we just need to ask. Their kindness closed out the fair with hope, joy, and gratitude. I will never forget it.

• And then there were our felt mobiles. So many people stopped to smile, “aww,” and ask questions. I always tell customers: buy anything that gives you joy. Why should only babies have mobiles? We adults deserve things that brighten our souls too.

  
  

Of course, not every interaction was easy. Some words were heavy, and some moments made me stop and reflect deeply.

• On the very first evening, an older woman admired our collection but then said, “You’ll be the first one to go. Soon you won’t be able to bring all this from your country.” Her words cut deep, and I couldn’t sleep that night. But here’s what I know: no one can stop the exchange of culture, art, and love across the world. It is a privilege to share Nepal with Minnesota, and I won’t stop. When hard times and hard conversations come, I grow stronger. I will not let small-mindedness decide my path. Too many people—here and in Nepal—depend on this work, and I refuse to give up.

• Another conversation came the morning after the Annunciation tragedy. A man asked me about one of our tote bags that read Love in Love. He shared his views on LGBTQ+ people and the rainbow in the Bible. I listened calmly, knowing he was hurting, but I did not take the bag down. Instead, I felt inspired to create an even more colorful display of pride and love. Because truly—our world needs more love, not less.

There were moments of doubt about numbers, about weather, about whether we would make it through. But then, a loyal customer in a wheelchair came by and said, “Seeing you here made my visit to the fair worth it.” Those words filled me with strength.

At the end of it all, I am deeply thankful. We completed our second year at the Minnesota State Fair, and what an opportunity it has been. The visibility, the lessons, the connections, the resilience—it has all made me stronger.

And behind every success stands a village. I am thankful for my husband, who kept everything steady at home. For my kids, who stayed up late just to say good night when I returned. For my mom, who made homemade lunches that carried me through long days. For my sister-in-law, who showed up every single day to help. For my in-laws, who so generously let me park in their driveway throughout the fair. For Ken, Craig, and Beth, who volunteered their time as our drivers. For our loyal customers, who adjusted with our store’s limited hours during fair season. And for every single person who prayed for us each day—I felt those prayers. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart.

To every customer who stopped by our booth, who bought something handmade, who shared a kind word or smile—thank you. You keep us going. You remind me why I do this work: to honor artisans, to share the beauty of Nepal, and to spread a little happiness one item, one customer at a time. Cheers to more learning, more love, and more reasons to stay hopeful—even on the hardest days.