SUDDENLY, SMALL BOYS in the United States are less concerned with tossing a ball like Michael Jordan or Kurt Warner than with aspiring to hurl themselves into burning buildings and haul people to safety.

Police officers and EMS teams have been serving heroically in the aftermath of the September 11 attacks, but the imaginations of millions of young Americans have been fired by images of heroes in baggy gear and outsize helmets, risking their lives in some of the most daring rescue operations the nation has ever known.

I shall never forget the brave smile on the face of a tiny girl who had just lost her fireman father. As she came into our offices, she polished the badge she wore proudly on her lapel and said quietly, "This was my daddy's. I'll always wear it."

There's something very special about these men and women in their bulky jackets and heavy protective helmets. They stand by one another as we should all stand by each other.

It saddens me just a little that it took a disaster of these proportions to bring an awareness of the role played by the men and women in the emergency services, who put their lives on the line every time they put on their uniforms and head off to work.

The firefighters, whom I know best, are a remarkable breed. In normal times, they live as tightly-knit families in the firehouses during their shifts. They cook, eat, sleep, play, and work together, and establish a closeness—a healthy interdependence—that no danger can threaten.

They will do anything for one another—even instantly lay down their lives, as recent weeks have shown in New York and Washington. If one of them is lost in the line of duty, firefighters come to the funeral from other cities and states, to show their support for the loved ones who are left. And afterwards they really to care for the family in practical ways—looking after the children, helping with financial planning, and tackling home repair jobs.

The example set by firefighters is not an easy one to emulate. These people, who risk everything, must be physically strong but gentle enough to coax a terror-stricken child to jump from a burning building into their arms; fearless in the face of danger, but wise enough not to jeopardize the lives of other members of the crew. They must always be mentally ready to respond even to a false alarm—and suppress the frustration and anger that often result. Sometimes they risk their loves to save those who have brought harm on themselves—the intoxicated, the lawless, the disobedient.

Firefighters' families are made of the same stuff. They are understanding, realistic, and also ready to make a sacrifice, if necessary. And what amazes me is how many sons—and daughters—of firefighters unhesitatingly commit themselves to following in their parents' footsteps. They are determined that their lives and their jobs will also have real meaning.

And, you know, in all of my encounters with the widows of fallen firefighters, I have never heard anyone ask, "Why my husband?" The dear ones left behind seem to be comforted by a knowledge that their firefighting hero was doing a job he had been trained to do with a selflessness that almost seems inbred. "It's what firefighters do," is what we've heard so often during these troubled days and nights.

But in comforting the families of firefighters who were just "doing their job," I've found that my own spiritual vitality really has to be kept alive and up-to-date. My spiritual conviction that God is "the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our troubles," as the Scriptures confirm (II Cor. 1:3, 4), helps me to understand the resources that are available to each of us in times of loss.

I've seen many of the widows sustained by the words of Isaiah: "For your Maker is your husband—the Lord Almighty is his name" (Isa. 54:5). In my work, I have often pointed out that anyone suffering this kind of loss can feel the companionship and love and tender care of the Lord Almighty. We are all included in His promise "Though the mountains be shaken and the hills be removed, yet my unfailing love for you will not be shaken, nor my covenant of peace be removed" (Isa. 54:10).

I've seen thoughts like these leap across religious boundaries and inspire even the broken to reach out to others and help them along the way.

My daily prayer is that God will help me to always be as courageous, compassionate, and patient in caring for the safety of my fellow citizens as the firefighters and other emergency workers who risk their lives in the line of duty.

After all, aren't we all in the line of duty?