DEAR ABBY: I offer this true story for your collection of acts of kindness.
Toward the end of World War II, my grandfather, Eugen Irtenkauf, then 10 years old, lived in Salach, a small village near Goppingen in southwest Germany.
Every day, seven American P-51 Mustang fighters flew over the area shooting at German soldiers. Because they came so often and seemed to be the same group flying over a war zone, the German civilians called them "the Lucky Seven."
One afternoon, my grandfather was flying his kite in a field when the Lucky Seven appeared in the sky. His father yelled for his son to let go of the kite and run. The son refused to do so. One of the Lucky Seven left the group and headed for my grandfather and the kite. My great-grandfather was sure that the pilot would kill his son. Instead, the pilot dipped his wings and flew on.
My grandfather has told me this story many times. It has been his lifelong wish to meet this pilot.
My grandfather's address is: Herr Eugen Irtenkauf, Austrasse 5, Salach, Germany, 73084. -- ERIKA AND HAMISH HALL, TUCSON, ARIZ.
DEAR ERIKA AND HAMISH: Thank you for a poignant addition to this column. I hope your grandfather's wish comes true.