On this day in 1874, in the passionate City of Brotherly Love, America’s first zoo—the Philadelphia Zoo—opened its gates. Originally chartered in 1859, the debut was delayed by the Civil War. The vision, set forth by the Zoological Society of Philadelphia, was tender and bold: a place where learning and love for animals could grow side by side—a “public exhibition... for the instruction and recreation of the people.”

From its earliest days, the zoo led with quiet innovation and compassion. In 1911, it identified the source of tuberculosis among primates, a discovery that saved lives. By 1922, researchers had created a nutrient-rich “Zoocake” to help animals thrive—an early act of gentle stewardship that echoed the higher mission of St. Francis of Assisi: to serve all living beings with care and humility.

“We all share in these advancements and learn from each other’s successes,” said zoo President Alexander L. Hoskins.

The Philadelphia Zoo is home to more than 1,900 rare and endangered animals, including remarkable species like blue-eyed black lemurs. But beyond the exhibits, the zoo offers something deeper: connection. Awe.

The wide-eyed joy of a child on her first visit. The quiet marvel at the rustle of fur or the golden gaze of a tiger. These are the moments that stay with us.

I remember them from childhood afternoons at the Honolulu Zoo, just down the street from Grandma Dorothy’s house. And now, I see them in my daughter Kayla’s smile whenever we walk through a zoo together. Wonder has no age.

"Human wandering through the zoo," reflected poet Don Marquis. "What do your cousins think of you?"

On Christmas Eve 1995, tragedy struck. A fire took the lives of 23 beloved primates, a heartbreaking loss felt around the world. Yet in the spirit of shared humanity, people responded—with love, donations, and a call to create something beautiful out of sorrow.

In 1999, the PECO Primate Reserve opened its doors—a $24 million tribute not just to the lost, but to the sacred bond between species.

In the end, love showed the way. Grief became grace. And the mission of St. Francis lived on—in every act of kindness, every child’s gaze, every life protected.