Foreword Along with being the best neighbor a kid could want, Fred Rogers was also an ordained minister, though not one with ceremonial robes or a collar, but rather a zip-up cardigan sweater and a pair of blue sneakers. He had no church of his own, if you consider church as a place of brick and mortar, pews and stained-glass windows, pipe organs and hymnals. He did have a cozy living room and kitchen, an aquarium of hungry if nondescript fish, and he sang songs that sprung from the conversations he was having. He gave no sermons to his parishioners, instead speaking with them in simple, commonsense tones, often asking questions. Despite having a daily TV show for so many years, he was by no means a TV preacher. Fred Rogers knew where his ministry was, in the few feet on the other side of the TV screen. His congregation was the children who made watching Mister Rogers a part of their day. Without ever mentioning God, or using the word religion, Fred tended to the needs and the worries of his flock with ardent passion and preparation.

His television programs were studied and precise works meant to address the infinite fears and questions faced by children: Can I get sucked down the drain of my bathtub? Am I safe in an airplane? Why am I so sad sometimes? For an appreciation of just how much Fred Rogers strived to make his congregation understand the workings of its world, look at his broadcasts dealing with death, assassination, and divorce. What many people cannot fathom in Fred Rogers is that his affection, delight, and care for children was sincere. It was. His true faith was stated in the continuous message of his ministry, that each of us are special in our own way, that what is essential in life is invisible to the naked eye, and that he really did want us to be his neighbor. Tom Hanks.