From the Heart
It was the late 80s and a little boy named Jonathan Stevens lived next door to my mom and dad.
My dad would often wear cardigans.
One day when Jonathan was about four, he walked over and knocked on the door of my parents’ house. When he got back home, his mom, Kathy, asked him what he was doing over at the neighbors. Jonathan answered, “Mr. Rogers gave me candy.”
From that day on he always called my dad Mr. Rogers. My dad not only wore a cardigan but he looked a lot like Mr. Rogers. And … my dad was a kind man.
Chuck and I spent Friday afternoon at the movies. We saw A Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood.
I won’t give out any secrets about the movie, but I will say it reminded me a lot of my dad and his kindness.
The movie talks about broken people dealing with their anger. When a child is broken it affects them for the rest of their life.
Often a child carries his anger into adulthood. Some children are broken into kindness. Like Mr. Rogers. Like my dad.
You see, my dad was raised during the Depression. Everyone was poor in the hills of Kentucky, but Dad’s family was the poorest of the poor.
My dad was a very smart man, but by the time he should have been going to high school, he was faced with bullies making fun of his clothes. Having clothes that were tattered and not taken care of by his stepmother, he could not face the ugly words of his schoolmates. So, he left high school and did not return.
Years later, his math abilities and management skills led him to becoming a supervisor at Firestone. I’ve never heard anyone say anything negative about my dad. His kindness was often mentioned by his coworkers.
Dad never spoke about the way he was treated as a child. He made a decision to always treat others with kindness. Recently, my mom shared with me all the cruel things that were said and done to my dad. It broke my heart.
My dad always made sure his younger sisters and their families received gifts for Christmas. They always thought the gifts were from Santa. He knew what it was like to have no tree or gifts at Christmas.
Dad always saw the good in people. He had a heart that would truly listen to their stories. He loved to ask questions. He gave people time to think and respond.
Dad understood broken people. He was one of them.
Mr. Rogers made a difference, one broken person at a time … so did my dad. They both knew how to love broken people.
Dad and Mr. Rogers listened with their heart. They knew that there was healing in the silence.
Perhaps Jonathan knew exactly what he was saying when he called my dad Mr. Rogers. For Jonathan, he just knew that it was a beautiful day in his neighborhood when my dad was his neighbor. Even a four-year-old can recognize kindness.
I pray that we all become a little more like Fred Rogers and Jim Hart.