“There are three ways to ultimate success: The first way is to be kind. The second way is to be kind. The third way is to be kind.” – Mister Rogers (human)
“I was just about to say that!” – Mister Rogers (feline)
There are superheroes, there are celebrities, and then there are neighbors.
We need them all, but only one will walk you home.
Mister Rogers (feline) has no aspirations to fame.
His cape is a tabby patchwork of peachy patches, slung over whipped-cream whorls like an old cardigan. Few cats will ever see their names in neon lights, and fewer still among those infected with FIV and FeLV.
Mister Rogers’ lanky frame pursues a better picture.
He is simple melodies and easy wonder. If you took him to the planetarium, his little mouth would hang open in amazement. If you asked to borrow his crayon, he would give you the whole box. If you gave him a tank of guppies, he would feed them before eating his own breakfast. OK, two out of three ain’t bad.
If you told him he was in a “hopeless situation,” he would ask you to be his neighbor.
If you felt a little hopeless yourself, he would inform you that it’s you that he likes.
Some would say that Mister Rogers’ trust verges on naivete. He is invincibly innocent, with eyes as wide as green apples.
A Mister Rogers (of any species) is a mystery to people with scars and memories. We want to learn from him, to live with our hearts so impossibly open.
But we were taught to lock our doors. We don’t know our neighbors’ first names. We wish we could hop on Mister Rogers’ trolley and ask the driver to floor it so we can flee all our fears. But we worry that any cat so calm must be living in the Land of Make-Believe.
Meanwhile, Mister Rogers looks for the helpers.
He feels no need to remind us that his life has been no fairy tale. His own body, beneath those candy eyes and creamsicle colors, has been a rough neighborhood. Retroviruses rumble in his marrow.
Mister Rogers heard many deadbolts clang shut before Tabby’s Place invited him to take off his shoes.
But none of that matters on this beautiful day.
Mister Rogers counted on kindness, and kindness came: first, in the helpers who refused to hear “hopeless,” and then, at Tabby’s Place, where we built an entire neighborhood called Quinn’s Corner for cats with his condition.
Mister Rogers (human) purposely named a good and honorable character “King Friday the 13th” to remind children that there is no such thing as “bad luck.”
Mister Rogers (feline) purposely names everyone “neighbor” to remind oversized children that there is no such thing as “them” — only “us,” in one entirely real kingdom of kindness.
At the right angle, Mister Rogers (feline) looks a smidge like Mister Rogers (human)’s Daniel Striped Tiger. But for all his pliant peace, our neighbor is no puppet. Meekness saves the world seven days a week. There is no bravery like an open heart.
And it takes someone far greater than a superhero or a celebrity to turn every stranger into a neighbor.
“You’ve made this day a special day by just your being you. There’s only one person in the whole world like you, and people can like you just because you’re you.” – Mister Rogers, human
“I’ll be back when the day is new and I’ll have more ideas for you.” – Mister Rogers, feline