There are days like today where the perfection and beauty of my earlier childhood are strikingly poignant. I am transported in an instant to that place deep in my soul, in the recesses of my memory before my life "got real" and the veil of perfection was pulled back. In that place resides Captain Kangaroo, Vacation Bible School, sticking sunshines on the church bus, my baby brother and sister being born, my parent's perfect marriage, Little House On The Prairie, my tree swing, playing in the roof of the barn, all four of my amazing grandparents, Turkey Trot traditions, picking strawberries, milking cows, tree houses, canoeing and camping alongside the Buffalo National River with my family, Golden Books, Pee Bear (don't ask), Raggedy Ann & Andy, and just as pronounced as any of those listed...Mr. Rogers.
We all have those sacred places deep inside where we keep the very best and most perfect memories of our childhood. I have just shared a handful of my own.
Days like today rock my soul. Break my heart. Leave me gasping for air and speechless. In the midst of all of that, I guess you could say I go to my happy place.
I wonder if times have changed that much, or if we just don't have that universal "go to" person for our children to help explain what is so difficult for us as adults to explain to ourselves?? Did Mr. Rogers just raise my generation, and others, and help us deal with the pain we experienced? Does life just get so ugly, at times, and complicated...that we just go back to those people and things that always make us feel better...restoring our hope and faith in humanity, in our God, in each ourselves??
I don't know.
I just sat down around 9:30 p.m. tonight and finally turned on the television to watch what I had avoided all day. As the video of what happened today started, I gasped unable to believe the sounds of the screams. I am shaking as I type...yet, you see all of the people (even before the second explosion) running towards the blast, trying to help, pulling stuff off of people, and you read the quote again (above) by Mr. Rogers...and you wonder how he always knew what to say....and how amazing that his words still ring true....and you are crying, but you know good always wins...
Yet....you can't help but miss Mr. Rogers. Then you think about all of those other wonderful parts of that euphoria, sweet part of your childhood...before you knew the world wasn't always rose colored, and you miss all of it....a little more than before...and you wish for a moment that you could go back in time and hide out in your closet with your Raggedy Ann and Andy dolls and your books....
But we can't.
I can't.
We have to reach out to those who are hurting far worse than ourselves. We have to run towards others and help.
And that is how we get past it. That is how we move on...Every. Day.
WE become the helpers. Because really, Mr. Rogers was not only teaching us then, he is talking to us now. WE are the helpers. We are the change we seek. We are the hope. We.
We are the helpers.
*To all those who are helping in big and small ways. Thank you. Each of you are restoring a shaken community, a shaken nation, a shaken world in the belief that good does always win. Always.
Sunshine Dreams to You ~ Today and Every Day! :)
