Wendy is a postal clerk at our small post office on Main Street.

She is much loved by almost everyone who deals with her, she is helpful, patient, and cheerful, knowledgeable. She doesn’t just say she cares, she really cares.

She knows everyone in town and even remembers which stamps they like. I tried to buy Maria some ugly stamps and Wendy gently reminded me of the ones she likes.

She and Maria have become good friends, they both love to talk about animals and life in the country. I love hearing them laugh with each other.

I admire Wendy, but never more so than the past couple of weeks. She is incredibly patient with sometimes difficult people who come into a post office all the time, and she really shines during these past few weeks.

I’ve never seen her lose her temper or talk sharply to anyone.

Wendy is one of those new heroes we see talk about too little – heroes of the coronavirus Pandemic, people who fix our cards, get our mail delivered, process government checks, check us out at supermarkets, take care of our health, deliver our many packages.

People who keep the stream of life flowing. Without them, the very infrastructure of  our civilization would be coming apart, and I mean to thank them wherever I see them.

Dealing with the public can be difficult in the best of times, these are not the best of times. Wendy says she’s fine with working right know, somebody’s got to do it, she says, we have to keep the mail coming and going.

This morning, I had a pain in my lower jaw that was throbbing a bit, and dentist’s offices, like most businesses, were closing down in response to our governor’s request to stay inside for a while. I called an emergency number and left a message and a tech called me right back and told me to hurry over, they were just about to close until further notice.

I drove 30 miles to Granville, N.Y., and she and the dentist took an X-ray, told me I didn’t need a root canal and thanked me for coming – really. I told them I felt guilty even calling them, but the doctor said he saw patients with HIV, hepatitis, horrid infections, and other injuries over the years, why wouldn’t he see people during the coronavirus Pandemic?

“It’s what we do.” When I left, he gave me his card with his home number on it and told me to call him at home if anything serious, like an abscess, appeared.

On the way home, I stopped at a supermarket to get some fruit and as I was checking out a man came over and handed me two paper bags – they cost 5 cents each in New York state now. “I didn’t need these,” he said, “you take them.”

I asked the cashier if she minded working now, and she said “no, people have to eat. I’m happy to be of some use, even if I get sick.”

The Pandemic gives us much to talk about and much to worry about, but what I am thinking about is grace, and how many people have it, and how the virus is giving so many of them a chance to reveal it to us.

I can’t thank them all, but I can note their existence. I will remember their kindness and heroism.

It would be wonderful if the people we elect to government showed the same grace to one another.