Fred Rogers

There is no normal life that is free of pain. It’s the very wrestling with our problems that can be the impetus for our growth.

Moving confidently toward independence depends to a great extent on there being a sure foundation of early love to build on, and a fundamental trust that help will be there when we need it. Love and trust are what most enable children to risk trying to be themselves.

Strengthen a parent . . . and you strengthen a child.

When I was a child and would see scary things on the news, my mother would say to me, ‘Look for the helpers. You will always find people who are helping.’

I’d like to be able to let children know that they are not alone with their feelings—that there are other people and other children who have those kinds of feelings . . . the same fears and the same joys—to let them know there is an adult who cares.

As far as I’m concerned, this is the essence of education: to facilitate a person’s learning, to help that person become more in tune with his or her own resources so that he or she can use whatever is offered more fully.

A friend of mine made a calligraphy scroll that I have framed in my writing room. It reads: ‘The greatest gift one can give to another person is a deeper understanding of life and the ability to love and believe in the self.’

One of the greatest dignities of humankind is that each successive generation is invested in the welfare of each new generation.

One of the strongest things I have had to wrestle with in my life is the significance of the longing for perfection in oneself and in the people bound to the self by friendship or parenthood or childhood.

When we love a person, we accept him or her exactly as is: the lovely with the unlovely, the strong along with the fearful, the true mixed in with the facade, and of course, the only way we can do it is by accepting ourselves that way.

Discovering the truth about ourselves is a lifetime’s work, but it’s worth the effort.

Sometimes, doing ‘the best we can’ may still fall short of what we would like to be able to do, but life isn’t perfect—on any front—and doing what we can with what we have is the most we should expect of ourselves or anyone else.

The thing I remember best about successful people I’ve met all through the years is their obvious delight in what they’re doing . . . and it seems to have very little to do with worldly success. They just love what they’re doing, and they love it in front of others.

There is no normal life that is free of pain. It’s the very wrestling with our problems that can be the impetus for our growth.

The purpose of life is to listen—to yourself, to your neighbor, to your world and to God and, when the time comes, to respond in as helpful a way as you can find . . . from within and without.

When I was a boy and I would see scary things in the news, my mother would say to me, ‘Look for the helpers. You will always find people who are helping.’ To this day, especially in times of ‘disaster,’ I remember my mother’s words, and I am always comforted by realizing that there are still so many helpers—so many caring people in this world.

I have tried to encourage children to love and care for themselves and to love the parents who care for them. That’s the way true neighborliness grows—loving others as we first loved ourselves.

Respect the child. Treat him as a person. The best thing a person can feel is to be accepted as he is, not as he will be when he grows up, but as he is right now, right this very minute.

Children feel far more comfortable and secure when things happen predictably—with routines, rituals and traditions. Those traditions, big or small, create anchors of stability, especially in rough seas.

One of the most essential ways of saying, ‘I love you’ is by careful listening—listening with the ‘ear of the heart.’

If we expect our children to always grow smoothly and steadily and happily, then we’re going to worry a lot more than if we are comfortable with the fact that human growth is full of slides backward as well as leaps forward, and is sure to include times of withdrawal, opposition, and anger, just as it encompasses tears as well as laughter.

Children who hear that they are loved in many different ways are likely to find their own ways to say it to the people they love—all through their lives.

Parents are like shuttles on a loom. They join the threads of the past with the threads of the future and leave their own bright patterns as they go, providing continuity to succeeding ages.