Fred Rogers loved her very much, and so, out of nowhere, he smiled and put his hand over hers

Fred Rogers loved her very much, and so, out of nowhere, he smiled and put his hand over hers

Once upon a time, a man named Fred Rogers decided that he wanted to live in heaven. Heaven is the place where good people go when they die, but this man, Fred Rogers, didn’t want to go to heaven; he wanted to live in heaven, here, now, in this world, and so one day, when he was talking about all the people he had loved in this life, he looked at me and said, “The connections we make in the course of a life-maybe that’s what heaven is, Tom. We make so many connections here on earth. Look at us-I’ve just met you, but I’m investing in who you are and who you will be, and I can’t help it.”

“Look at us-I’ve just met you, but I’m investing in who you are and who you will be, and I can’t help it.”

It’s just a meeting of friends,” he said

The next afternoon, I went to his office in Pittsburgh. ” A woman was with him, sitting in a big chair. Her name was Deb. She was very pretty. She had a long face and a dark blush to her skin. She had curls in her hair and stars at the centers of her eyes. She was a minister at Fred Rogers’s church. She spent much of her time tending to the sick and the dying. “Will you be with me when I die?” he asked her amateurmatch, and when she said yes, he said, “Oh, thank you, my dear.” Then, with his hand still over hers and his eyes looking straight into hers, he said, “Deb, do you know what a great prayer you are? Do you know that about yourself? Your prayers are just wonderful.” Then he looked at me. I was sitting in a small chair by the door, and he said, “Tom, would you close the door, please?” I closed the door and sat back down. “Thanks, my dear,” he said to me, then turned back to Deb. “Now, Deb, I’d like to ask you a favor,” he said. “Would you lead us? Would you lead us in prayer?”

Deb stiffened for a second, and she let out a breath, and her color got deeper. “Oh, I don’t know, Fred,” she said. “I don’t know if I want to put on a performance….”

He was sitting on a couch, under a framed rendering of the Greek word for grace and a biblical phrase written in Hebrew that means “I am my beloved’s, and my beloved is mine

Fred never stopped looking at her or let go of her hand. “It’s not a performance. …