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Won't you be my neighbor?
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,.
It's you I like
It's not the things you wear.
It's not the way you do your hair,
But it's you I like.
The way you are right now,
the way down deep inside you,
Not the things that hide you
Not your toys--they're just beside you.
But it's you I like.
Every part of you--
Your skin, your eyes, your feelings
Whether old or new.
I hope that you'll remember
Even when you're feeling blue
That it's you I like, it's you yourself
It's you. It's you I like.
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.
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,.
It's you I like
It's not the things you wear.
It's not the way you do your hair,
But it's you I like.
The way you are right now,
the way down deep inside you,
Not the things that hide you
Not your toys--they're just beside you.
But it's you I like.
Every part of you--
Your skin, your eyes, your feelings
Whether old or new.
I hope that you'll remember
Even when you're feeling blue
That it's you I like, it's you yourself
It's you. It's you I like.
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.
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Aw, you thought of the trolley. :-) I might have to look for my dusty old stuffed Daniel Striped Tiger tonight when I'm looking for the letter. He could use a bit of a cuddle, I think. *g*
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And that, I think, very precisely pinpoints why fandoms can be so important to people. (I wonder if there's Mr. Rogers fanfic...)
Lovely essay, despite making me all sniffly. It's dirty pool to make me cry at work. ;-)
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Sorry for making you sniffly! I forced myself to turn off the news this morning after I'd heard about his death. I knew I'd just start bawling the second they played the show's theme song, and believe me, the last thing I need right now is a snottier nose. ;-)