Thanksgiving always makes me feel a little sappy — a combination of happy and sentimental. I adore the people with whom I gather. But I’ve been feeling a bit distressed this year because so much of the national soundtrack playing in the background is political and particularly unkind.

If an upcoming Thanksgiving gathering has you pondering America’s divisiveness and you wonder what your dinner conversation might sound like during an extended-family feast, take heart.

We have more in common than we don’t and political views are not our defining feature as a nation or a species. If you’re not sure of that, consider Dolly Parton, Fred Rogers and a little boy named Nash Stineman.

Americans may scrap and growl, but we shine when we’ve got the chance to celebrate goodness or be good ourselves. I think most of us are naturally drawn to the things that engage our better natures and inspire us, rather than rile us.

Despite viral coverage, you may not know how the town of Lincolnshire, Illinois, turned out for Nash last week. When he was not quite a year old, doctors diagnosed the little guy with a rare, incurable neurological disease that’s marked by muscular weakness and other effects that worsen over time. Doctors predicted Nash wouldn’t live to see his second birthday. So the town turned out in a crowd to celebrate the eve of his third birthday.

The toddler’s very susceptible to catching whatever anyone has, so a traditional birthday party was out of the question. Instead, they created a parade. News reports said that as the little boy watched with his parents, strangers and friends packed into more than 100 vehicles and drove past, with decorations and signs and enough well-wishes to buoy a flotilla, much less a small, medically beleaguered family’s spirits.

That’s the America for which I’m giving thanks next Thursday — and I believe it’s the truest form of the United States. Which brings me to Dolly Parton and Fred Rogers and what I see as a longing to honor what’s good.

Parton is a hot commodity right now, reportedly more popular at age 73 with those younger than 55 than she is with older Americans. She’s got a TV special coming out, a limited series on Netflix and is the subject of a popular podcast called “Dolly Parton’s America.” My friend Sofia, who’s in her 20s, has no trouble explaining Parton’s extraordinary allure, noting the singer over her entire career was “determined to do what she wanted to do, but was very kind to everyone on her way up.” What an incredible compliment.

Fred Rogers, the Presbyterian minister who regularly appeared on TV in living rooms in “Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood,” taught millions of American kids about being kind and brave and decent. Honestly, he was part of my family. We used to joke in my house that he was the person on whom a generation or two of human ducklings imprinted. Rogers was so sweet that I once asked aloud if he could be for real — and one of my own dearest, kindest friends, who knew him well, told me she was disappointed in my cynicism. What America saw was real, she said, and I should be ashamed. Not my best moment.

In a world that’s got a plethora of tattletales and gossip mongers, I’ve never seen or heard an unkind word about Rogers from anyone who’d known him. I’m not sure how many people could leave that unblemished reputation behind, but his image as a remarkable, loving man has been reburnished by the release of the movie “A Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood,” starring Tom Hanks.

Rogers died of cancer more than 15 years ago, but he still influences the kids who loved him and the parents who appreciated the role he played in their young lives.

Goodness is a flame that’s pretty hard to suppress, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t need to be fanned. We should find the pieces that light us up and then return the favor.