A Little Girl Remembered: The Story of Olga

Imagine the unbearable pain of burying a child—holding their small hand one day and facing an empty space the next. Some stories linger long after they end. Some lives, though brief, leave an imprint that time cannot erase. In Zoetic Solace, a mysterious painting of a little girl becomes a poignant thread in the narrative. Eventually, readers discover this is not just any child—it is Olga, a real little girl who lived, laughed, and was loved before tragedy struck far too soon.

Born in Helena, Montana, in the 1870s, Olga entered the world as the cherished daughter of a wealthy business owner. She was bright, full of promise, and deeply loved. But just a few months shy of her seventh birthday, her life was cut short. No parent expects to bury their child. The weight of such a loss is unfathomable.

Her passing was not a private sorrow—it was a tragedy that shook the Helena community. When her funeral took place at the Presbyterian Church, the outpouring of love and support was staggering. The newspaper reported that nearly 50 carriages followed her to Benton Avenue Cemetery. Imagine the sight—dozens upon dozens of mourners, each carriage holding two, three, perhaps four people. This was a communal moment of sorrow.

But what did Olga look like? No known photograph of her exists. In Zoetic Solace, I wanted to give her an image, a presence. To create the fictional painting that appears in the book, I used an AI-generated image based on a college-age photograph of her brother, Milton. By altering it to resemble a young girl, I sought to approximate Olga’s likeness—something to help us remember her, even if we will never truly know her face.

Olga, image concept digitally rendered by author, Jennifer Toelle for Zoetic Solace.

Writing Zoetic Solace led me to step into the shoes of Olga’s parents. How did they endure such a profound loss? How did they wake up each morning, knowing their little girl was gone? And yet, in their darkest moment, they were not alone. The city mourned with them.

This summer, I will stand before Olga’s grave in Montana. I will honor her memory. And in doing so, I hope to keep her story alive—not just in history, but in the hearts of those who have read or will read Zoetic Solace.

Until next time, Jennifer