"The one that was made of safety pins?"
"Yes! Why can't you try to design an American flag? You know, stringing red, white and blue beads onto safety pins. Then maybe you could collect donations to help the victims' families."
Off to the craft store we went, buying each and every pack of red, white and blue beads that we could find. Like on a scavenger hunt, we shopped for and bought safety pins. Seventeen thousand safety pins to be exact. Joel named his project "Helping Hands," and even found some friends who were willing to help assemble the flag pins. Joel then made signs that boldly read, "My Gift to You When You Donate to the Red Cross." Within weeks, Joel had managed to collect $5,000 in donations.
After such an overwhelming task, Joel's hands were tired. His fingers were tender. They had not yet recovered from accidental pokes from the sharp point of each safety pin, when he heard the horrific news - a postal worker had died from anthrax!
Again, the questions came flying. "Mom, what is anthrax? How did it get there? Aren't the postmen and women scared?"
I answered each question to the best of my knowledge. But then came a question that I had no answer to, "Mom, what's the name of our postman?"
A lump formed in my throat as I realized that we had lived in our home for ten years, and I had no idea who had delivered our mail each day!
"Do you think our postman is scared?" Joel asked.
The next afternoon Joel stood next to our mailbox, singing to himself to pass the time until he saw the wheels of the U.S. mail truck. With a smile, he introduced himself to the mail carrier.

"Hi, I'm Joel. I live here."
"Glad to meet you, Joel. My name's Jimmy."
"Are ya scared?"
"Scared?"
"Yeah, about the anthrax."
"We're doing our jobs, and we're being extra careful. Thanks for asking," Jimmy said, just before he drove away.
I heard the door shut with gusto. "Mom!" Joel shouted. "His name is Jimmy! Our mailman's name is Jimmy!"
Within seconds, Joel met me in the kitchen. "I want to do more. Mom, I want to do something for Jimmy. Just how many friends at the post office do you think Jimmy has?"
"Maybe twenty?" I guessed as I got on the phone and called the post office. Two hundred and five was the count the postal worker gave. Evidently, Jimmy was both well-known and well-liked at the post office!
Again, Joel and I went to the craft stores to buy every red, white and blue bead we found. Due to their shortage of safety pins, we made calls, buying pins directly from the manufacturer. Joel rehung his sign, and "Helping Hands" was back in business.
This time it was different. Joel was not collecting donations. He was making gifts of encouragement - a flag pin for every postal worker in the city of Orange, California! After completing his task, Joel typed a note and printed it out two hundred and five times.
"I have made you this flag pin to remind you that people in our city appreciate the work you do for us. I am praying for you as you deliver our mail. I know that God will bless America! Love, Joel."
It was while Joel was attaching the notes to the flag pins that Allison, a neighbor friend, stopped by. "Hey, can I help?" she asked.
"Yeah. You've come just in time. I want to get these in the mailbox before the mailman comes!"
Joel quickly grabbed a pen, and Allison added her name to the notes. Sitting side-by-side, they worked until each flag pin was accompanied by a note. They then boxed up the couple hundred flag pins, tied a bow around them, and added a card that read, "To: Jimmy and Friends." They placed the package in our mailbox, and raised the red flag.

With a task well done, Joel and Allison went off to play. It was not until later that afternoon that I got the call.
"Hi, are you Joel's mom?" the voice asked.
"Yes."
"Well, you must be very proud of your son. I am the postmaster in Orange, and I'd like to know if you would bring Joel and Allison to the post office tomorrow morning at about nine. I thought it would be great if they themselves could pass out the flag pins to the mail carriers."
The next morning came. The postmaster divided the 205 postal workers into three groups. Three times Joel and Allison took front stage encouraging the mail carriers and handing out pins.
Tears gathered in some of the postal workers' eyes as they received their pins from Joel and Allison. "I think it's fantastic that you two took the time to do this and come and talk to us," one man said while shaking Joel's hand. Others offered hugs and words of thanks. Before the morning was over, Joel and Allison were made honorary mail carriers of Orange, California.
Through this experience Joel has taught me many lessons. I've learned that the only requirements needed to help another are a set of "helping hands and a willing heart." Allison has reminded me that when my fingers are cracked and tender, it's time for me to call on a friend! Through the lives of two ten-years-olds, I am now assured that each of us can do something to help our nation heal. From saying a prayer for those who pass you by to writing a letter to an unknown serviceman or stringing small beads, these gifts of time and love deeply affect those they touch.