Fred McFeely Rogers (March 20, 1928 – February 27, 2003)
Oh. Sobbing. Okay.
The first time I watched this, I was seventeen years old, and I cried. Big, ugly, body-wracking sobs. I’m tearing up a little now, thinking about it. But the first time I saw this, my cry lasted for about twenty minutes, about ten times as long as my average crying jag. But I couldn’t help it. It’s like he was telling me every terrible thing I’d ever been called, every awful thing I called myself, wasn’t true. And that even if they were, that was okay. He- this kind, wonderful, gentle man- said he still liked me as I was, for all that I was.
Being told that the person you are is good enough is great for children. It’s more important, I think, when we get older.