Dear Mr. Rogers

Some of my friends are a-buzz over the new documentary, “Won’t You Be My Neighbor”. I thought about the letter I wrote back on November 7, 2017, when things started to get really scary in our government and in our neighborhoods. It was a few months after Charlottesville. And the state where I live was voting for a new governor. So, I wrote this letter to Mr. Rogers and asked him if there was any way he could come back to help us find our way back to kindness and civility. On November 27, 2017, the Hollywood Reporter reported that Focus Features had acquired worldwide rights to film the documentary. It was realeased in theaters in June 2018…and I just have to ask, do you believe in miracles? Because I’m inclined to believe this might be one. Not that my letter had anything to do with this film coming out now when we need it more than ever…but then again, the little kid in me thinks I owe Mr. Rogers a thank you letter. I kinda knew, and said as much, that if anyone could figure out a way to come back to help us, he could. Here we are, and here he is, on the big screen, this time. Thank you Mr. Rogers. I knew you wouldn’t let us go through this alone.
~kat

like mercury colliding...

For Sunday Writing Prompt #227 “Letters to Characters”: The challenge: write a letter to a character from a book or movie as if they were a real person. The character can be one that you love, hate, or love to hate. Offer them advice, question their life decisions, criticize or berate them, profess your love to them the choice is yours!

mr rogers Fred McFeeley Rogers – March 20, 1928 – February 27, 2003

Dear Mr. Rogers,

I’m sorry to interrupt your eternal bliss. I’m sure you are resting peacefully in your own beautiful corner of heaven enjoying the rewards of your stellar time on earth. Don’t get me wrong, you deserve it, but we need you!

Our neighborhoods are not beautiful right now. People are afraid to come out, locking their doors and shuttering their windows. They’re talking about building walls and they’re burning down bridges. I’ve witnessed that with my own…

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