tomorrow is always fresh, with no mistakes in it

Dedication Poem Read by John F. Kennedy, Jr.
Kennedy Library, October 20, 1979



"I think continually of those who were truly great"
by Stephen Spender

I think continually of those who were truly great.
Who from the womb, remembered the soul's history
Through corridors of light where the hours are suns,
Endless and singing. Whose lovely ambition
Was that their lips, still touched with fire,
Should tell of the Spirit clothed from head to foot in song.
And who hoarded from the Spring branches
The desires falling across their bodies like blossoms.

What is precious is never to forget
The essential delight of the blood drawn from ageless springs
Breaking through rocks in worlds before our earth.
Never to deny its pleasure in the morning simple light
Nor its grave evening demand for love.
Never to allow gradually the traffic to smother
With noise and fog the flowering of the spirit.

Near the snow, near the sun, in the highest fields
See how these names are feted by the waving grass
And by the streamers of white cloud
And whispers of wind in the listening sky.
The names of those who in their lives fought for life
Who wore at their hearts the fire's center.
Born of the sun they traveled a short while towards the sun,
And left the vivid air signed with their honour.

I wish I could be on vacation all of December and do nothing but watch classic movies. TCM is full of goodies this month. Holiday movies...



A special focus on director Ernst Lubitsch every Friday night...



And Star of the Month Barbara Stanwyck. They're showing her movies all day Wednesdays -- 55 of them throughout the month.



Last year I introduced Ann-Mary to the greatness of Miss Stanwyck in Christmas in Connecticut, and this weekend we watched her with Fred MacMurray in Remember the Night. A. really liked both movies. Another convert! *g*

During my junior year of college there was a freshman in my dorm who was even more of a homesick disaster than I'd been when I was a freshman. She was lonely, weepy, and a little bit frantic at being away from home for the first time in her life. One day I struck up a conversation with her, and the usual getting-to-know-you topics came up: where are you from, brothers and sisters, etc. In the midst of all these childhood reminisces we somehow got around to how much we both loved Mister Rogers' Neighborhood when we were growing up. Daniel Striped Tiger, Picture Picture, Mr. McFeeley...it became a sort of bond between us, that we were both geeky fans of Mr. Rogers who still occasionally turned on the show when we were feeling sick or blue. From that conversation we went on to become friends, and I think that helped her get past her freshman year freak out.

That August, around the time school started, a touching little book called Dear Mister Rogers was published. It was full of letters he'd received from children, and there was a piece of blue stationery in the back, so you could write your own letter to Mr. Rogers. I suppose the stationery was really intended for children, but I figured I'd write a little something to say how much his show had meant to me growing up, how his message of acceptance, kindness, and imagination helped shape my young life. How it was still helping me out, even in college. I sent it off never thinking he'd actually read it. I was completely shocked when I opened my little mailbox a few months later and found a full 8 1/2 x 11 envelope from Family Communications in Pittsburgh. Inside was a personal letter from Mr. Rogers in response to what I'd told him, a signed picture, and a big poster of him with Daniel, King Friday, and some of the other Neighborhood puppets. He said he thought my new friend and I might want it for our dorm wall. Does it get any sweeter than that? It makes me smile just thinking about it.

When I get home from work this afternoon I'm going to find the box where I have that letter stored away and read it again. At the time I wrote the letter I felt like a dork for doing so, but now I'm incredibly grateful that I did. He made a difference in my childhood, and I'm happy I told him so. I really did love him, in that way we love strangers we see on screen and come to feel we know as friends.

And now, to round out the sappiness this morning,( the lyrics of my favorite song by Fred Rogers )

Clearly the lyrics are meant for children, but to me they're a poignant and lovely way of expressing unconditional caring and friendship for anyone. That song has always made me teary, ever since I was a little girl and my mom sang it to me. "Not the things that hide you, not your toys -- they're just beside you" -- that's the point where I always start to well up a bit. So I'll just go for full-on sap this morning and say that it's you I like, and that I'm glad you're in my neighborhood.

And goodbye, Mister Rogers.