To receive a collection of Abby's most memorable -- and most frequently requested -- poems and essays, send a business-sized, self-addressed envelope, plus check or money order for $3.95 ($4.50 in Canada) to: Dear Abby's "Keepers," P.O. Box 447, Mount Morris, Ill. 61054-0447. (Postage is included.)
'Angel' Delivers Christmas Miracle to Grateful Family
DEAR ABBY: I don't know whether this qualifies as an act of kindness or the work of an angel, but here it is:
One Christmas several years ago, my children and I were at my sister's in the country. After the festivities, the kids settled down to watch a movie while we cleaned up the kitchen.
Sometime during the movie, my 8-year-old son, Tim, became bored and slipped outside without anyone noticing. It was one of the coldest winters on record, and Tim wanted to see the ice on the pond some distance from the house.
He slipped, fell through the ice and into the pond, which was about 15 feet deep. He managed to cling to a chunk of ice and scream for help, but he was too far from the house for any of us to hear.
A man driving on the two-lane country road heard Tim's screams. He found my son and managed to pull him to safety with a piece of rope he had in his car.
The man drove Tim to my sister's house, where we immediately ripped off his frozen clothes and put him in the whirlpool bath they had just installed. By the time we returned from the bathroom, the man had disappeared.
That man saved my son's life. To this day, I secretly think he was an angel, but if he was a mortal, I am forced to believe in the universal goodness of humankind.
When I am feeling depressed, I remember that incident. There may be a great deal that's wrong with this country, but there's also a great deal that's right. -- REBECCA WURM, CLUTE, TEXAS
DEAR REBECCA: That was a Christmas miracle if ever I heard one, guardian angel and all.
DEAR ABBY: I hope you will permit me to respond to a recent letter you printed from a reader who complained of problems with blushing and embarrassment, asking what could be done about it.
I was surprised that the advice offered was essentially that nothing could be done for the problem. It sounded to me as though the writer was suffering from symptoms of social phobia, the most common form of anxiety disorder, affecting 14 percent of the population.
Blushing, sweating, trembling or heart palpitations are quite frequent physical signs of this disorder, which is characterized by fear of scrutiny or fear of humiliation/embarrassment in front of others. It can be a disabling and extremely distressing state, about which the medical profession has been largely ignorant.
I should like to point out that there are now several highly effective treatments for social phobia, including anti-depressant and anti-anxiety drugs. Also, non-medication behavioral treatments are effective. Sufferers from social phobia frequently profit by attending a phobia support group, which exists in most communities. -- JONATHAN R.T. DAVIDSON, M.D., DIRECTOR, ANXIETY AND TRAUMATIC STRESS PROGRAM, DUKE UNIVERSITY MEDICAL CENTER
DEAR DR. DAVIDSON: I'm sure that many readers will join me in thanking you for this information. This was news to me, and I'm certain it will be to many others.
HOSPITAL CARDS FIND RIGHT ROOM IF THEY'RE PROPERLY ADDRESSED
DEAR ABBY: I am an 82-year-old volunteer at one of our finest hospitals. Over a period of 45 years, I have accumulated 16,300 hours of service. I am enclosing a letter I clipped from a column you wrote in 1979. Please run it again. It would be extremely helpful to all who volunteer their services in hospitals and nursing homes.
Thanking you in advance, I am ... MRS. EDNA S. GREENBERG, TYLER, TEXAS
DEAR MRS. GREENBERG: Congratulations for the number of hours you have served as a hospital volunteer. And thank you for the item you saved from my column. I agree, it's worth a rerun, and here it is:
DEAR ABBY: Do you want to do the hospital volunteers a big favor? Please tell your readers that mail addressed to "Buzz" Jackson, "Skip" Jones or "Tootsie" Brown will probably not be delivered to patients in a hospital.
Nicknames are not recorded on hospital records. The patients are registered under their legal names (first, middle and last). We have no idea who "Liz," "Corky," "Red" or "Junior" is.
Yesterday I looked for "Al Johnson" and found none. However, I did find a "Henry Alvin Johnson." I later learned that the patient called himself "Al" so he wouldn't be confused with his father, who was called "Henry."
So, please print this, Abby. I could cry every time I see a stack of mail that can't be delivered because it is improperly addressed.
And wouldn't you know, the sender never puts a return address on the envelope, either! -- FRUSTRATED IN PHOENIX
DEAR FRUSTRATED: I'll pass the word. I hope it helps.
DEAR ABBY: Several months ago you reprinted a letter from "Open for Suggestions" about a woman who was concerned about her daughter's classmate who came to school dirty. You advised that she contact the teacher, who would then contact the proper authorities.
I know your heart was in the right place, but really Abby, does our first recourse need to be contacting the authorities? I have been a foster parent and know how frightening the authorities can be to a child and a family.
"Open to Suggestions" wanted to talk to the boy's mother. I think she was on the right track. She should have gotten to know the woman as a friend and then made suggestions about the boy's appearance. His parents may have only needed some friendly educating. And of course, if on her first visit it was obvious that the child was neglected, after that she could have spoken to the teacher.
I grew up in a home that was filthy. I often wore the same clothes for days. We rarely washed the sheets, and I had no idea people ever washed floors or windows. But my parents fed and sheltered me. They helped me with schoolwork, marveled at my creations, held me when I cried, remembered my birthday, read me bedtime stories and so much more. The things I learned from them are more valuable than clean clothes. (Later, I learned housekeeping from my mother-in-law.)
These days people don't take the time to know others. If our neighbors are noisy, we call the police. If nearby residents don't mow their lawns, we call city authorities. If a co-worker crosses us, we complain to the boss.
I vote for talking out our differences and calling in help as a last resort. I learned this from my dear parents, who both held master's degrees in the sciences from leading universities -- and from you, Dear Abby. -- A FAITHFUL FAN
CONFIDENTIAL TO THOSE WHO READ ME FAITHFULLY, OCCASIONALLY OR RARELY: Have a merry Christmas. If you're drinking, please don't drive. And if you're driving, please don't drink.
For an excellent guide to becoming a better conversationalist and a more attractive person, order "How to Be Popular." Send a business-sized, self-addressed envelope, plus check or money order for $3.95 ($4.50 in Canada) to: Dear Abby Popularity Booklet, P.O. Box 447, Mount Morris, Ill. 61054-0447. (Postage is included.)
Opposites Find Less to Attract After Five Years of Marriage
DEAR ABBY: Jerry and I have been married for five years. It's a second marriage for both of us. The problem is we have a serious clash of personalities, which was probably true when we were dating, but I was wearing rose-colored glasses back then.
I'm naturally a positive, upbeat person; Jerry is stubborn and grouchy 90 percent of the time. He picks apart every little thing and looks for reasons to pout or be mad. I found out after we were married that he has been this way since he was very young. I'm usually relieved when he goes off to do something without me, just for the peace I get while he's gone.
I've tried everything I know to help him, but it's very tiring trying to cheer Jerry up. I've come very close to leaving him twice in the last two years.
How does a woman with a positive attitude live with a complaining, nagging man who seems hell-bent on inflicting everyone with his negative attitude? -- TIRED OF LIVING WITH A GROUCH
DEAR TIRED: It is highly unlikely that you can change your husband's personality. However, you can change the way you react to Jerry's moods.
Counseling should help you learn to tolerate his moods so that you will be less affected by them. Ideally, you should both have counseling. If he refuses, go without him.
DEAR ABBY: Your answer to "Frustrated Homeowner," who was upset because his neighbors parked in front of his house, was good up to a point. But what if you got a response like this: "You don't own the street. I need the space in front of my house in case company comes," plus a few choice remarks about your ancestors?
In my case, my neighbor's mother would drive up almost every Saturday morning and park in front of my house, and her car would just sit there until she left Sunday night. The curb in front of my neighbor's house was always empty.
Well, I had phone messages from friends who said, "We drove by Sunday afternoon, but didn't stop because you had company," etc. So one day I went over to my neighbor and asked him if his mother could please park in front of his house. Well, I got a tongue-lashing I'll never forget and went home with my tail between my legs.
The next weekend I brought the company pickup truck home and parked it so that my neighbor's mother would have plenty of room for her car. On Sunday afternoon I pulled the family station wagon out of the garage and parked it up close to the back bumper of her car. Next I backed the pickup close to "Mom's" front bumper and locked both vehicles up tight. Then I went inside to watch television.
About 8 p.m., my doorbell rang. It was my neighbor asking me to move one of the vehicles so that his mom could get out.
"Sure thing," I replied. "I'll be right out just as soon as I get my shoes on." Then I went back to my chair and continued to watch my TV show. Half an hour later, the doorbell rings and it's my irate neighbor wanting to know, "How long does it take to put on your damn shoes?"
Well, after an hour and a half, I moved my pickup, and Mom shot out of there and burned rubber for half a block. I gathered that she was a little upset with me, but she never parked in front of my place again. -- VINCE WOGMAN, CHEHALIS, WASH.
Good advice for everyone -- teens to seniors -- is in "The Anger in All of Us and How to Deal With It." To order, send a business-sized, self-addressed envelope, plus check or money order for $3.95 ($4.50 in Canada) to: Dear Abby, Anger Booklet, P.O. Box 447, Mount Morris, Ill. 61054-0447. (Postage is included.)