Mister Rogers is my hero.
And apparently, not just mine.
I came across this quote in a piece at Daily Routines. The bit at DR is in turn part of a larger piece from Esquire that you can find here. The full article is well worth reading. This is my favourite part:
and every morning, when he swims, he steps on a scale in his bathing suit and his bathing cap and his goggles, and the scale tells him he weighs 143 pounds. This has happened so many times that Mister Rogers has come to see that number as a gift, as a destiny fulfilled, because, as he says, “the number 143 means `I love you.’ It takes one letter to say ‘I’ and four letters to say `love’ and three letters to say `you.’ One hundred and forty-three. `I love you.’ Isn’t that wonderful?”
When i was sick as a child, and had to stay home from school, i was not allowed to sit around watching television. Except for Mister Rogers. There is something about his gentle manner, cheerful curiousity, and deliberate pace that soothes all that ails me.
Kristina was sick this week, and i wasn’t letting her watch much TV either. Except for Mister Rogers. She was pretty sick, miserable and wretched, and she needed to rest. But when Mister Rogers sings, “it’s you i like,” well, it’s believable.
And if Mister Rogers can like me/her/you when we are snotty and feverish and achy, then maybe we’re not doing too badly after all. And maybe we’ll feel better eventually.
Until then, let’s see what’s going on in the land of make-believe, shall we?
listening to: Kristina’s lungs making a run for the border