Emerson, my 11-year-old daughter, is on a wild ride with the United States Postal Service (USPS) and our postman, Doug. She has a serious letter-writing habit and keeps in touch with her favorite people. If you've been the receiver of her hand-decorated letters and envelopes, then I know they really make your day.
A letter from Emerson is likely to include some art, a joke and enough questions to guarantee a response. But when she wrote a letter to Doug, she put something new in it. "You may know me as the person living here that writes lots of letters. . . You're very important to me, helping me stay in touch with friends. I cheer people up with my letters, and you do that too!", Emerson wrote.
The next day, a package arrived with two letters. One was from Doug and the other from his superior, Sara, saying she had shared Emerson's letter in the internal newsletter(内部通讯)of the USPS and believed many postal workers wanted to thank Emerson. Emerson was so pleased with Sara's letter that it upset me much, for the possible result of no reply would come as a blow to her.
Surprisingly, today, we saw Doug come with two boxes of letters from around the country. These letters were so human, filled with stories about family, pets and a sense of kindness. But there was something more in them. People felt seen—some for the first time in a long time. "I work alone in a small rural post office..." "Not many people think about how hard we work..". Emerson wrote back seriously.
I'm sharing this not because I'm a proud dad, but because it's relatively easy, if we take the time, to give others links they need to be good-human connection. Emerson did this daringly. Her lesson to me is simple: It's the small things that matter most. We all want to be seen, known and loved.
Send a letter. Give a call. Take a step of bravery, like Emerson.