DEAR ABBY: When I was in the eighth grade I didn't "like boys." Building forts was much more interesting. But when my first love walked into our classroom, I knew I loved him the second I saw him.

We liked each other all during high school, although my parents told me I was too young to like boys. When he gave me gifts, I had to give them back. When he offered me his class ring I wasn't allowed to take it. It silently broke my heart. In all those years, I didn't ever tell him I loved him -- or how much.

He was the valedictorian of our class, and after high school he went on to Stanford University. I went to nurse's training. His life prospered; mine disintegrated.

At age 30, I married a man to please my father. That marriage ended in divorce eight years and two children later. After being a single parent for seven years, I longed for a husband and family. I married a man who had my first love's name. This marriage ended a year later after a lot of trauma to me and my children.

Two years ago, I realized that my true love was "missing in action" in my heart and that I hadn't been able to go on with my life. I located him through the Stanford Alumni register and after 30 years, talked with him -- for 42 minutes. He's happily married with four children.

After that phone call, I grieved for two days and then reconciled my love for him in my heart.

Abby, no other true love has come into my life. Perhaps one never will. Please encourage parents to take their children seriously. The heart is never too young to love deeply and eternally.

Thank you. I cannot sign this letter since I don't wish to expose my parents to the heartache they caused me so young in life, and the profound impact that forcing me to deny my love has had on me throughout the years. -- FINALLY RECONCILED, RICHLAND, WASH.

DEAR RECONCILED: Yours is a dramatic story. It's gratifying to know that you have finally found peace and resolved your first love.

When parents tell children that they are "too young" to be seriously in love, what they usually mean is that the children are too young to shoulder the responsibilities that accompany their turbulent emotions. I hope that the next time you find love, it brings you every happiness.

DEAR ABBY: My wife died two years ago. I know absolutely nothing about her side of the family. Although we had a wonderful trouble-free marriage of 47 years, she did not discuss her family.

Among her possessions is a photo album from 1880. All of the photos are excellent, taken in professional studios. The album is blue velvet, in mint condition. The pictures were taken in Illinois, Ohio, Missouri, Nebraska, Colorado; Los Angeles, Oakland and Pasadena, Calif.

Only one photograph is identified with a name: "Mrs. A. Hemenover, 1300 San Pablo Ave., Oakland, Calif., May 5, 1902."

Abby, I would love to return this album to any of her descendants. If anyone reading your column can help, I'm sure it will make the family very happy.

There are no strings attached and no thought of financial gain; I simply hate to see this beautiful album lost to the family. I am 77 years old and a totally responsible citizen.

Incidentally, my wife's maiden name was Jean Elenor Alameda. She was born in Oakland, Calif., and graduated from high school there. -- GAYEL G. CHEW

DEAR GAYEL G. CHEW: How generous of you. If a family member claims this album, I will contact you. Thank you for giving me your name, address and telephone number.

What teens need to know about sex, drugs, AIDS, and getting along with peers and parents is in "What Every Teen Should Know." To order, send a business-sized, self-addressed envelope, plus check or money order for $3.95 ($4.50 in Canada) to: Dear Abby, Teen Booklet, P.O. Box 447, Mount Morris, Ill. 61054-0447. (Postage is included.)

DEAR ABBY: When I saw that letter from "Worried," whose husband picks up hitchhikers, I had to write. He may do it because it makes him feel good, but he should listen to his wife. Or maybe he would rather hear it from me. I've had firsthand experience.

My grandfather was also a kind man. One day that kindness led to tragedy. He had always said if he needed a ride, he hoped someone would pick him up. One day, he saw a young man walking on the highway "thumbing" a ride. My grandfather couldn't ignore the man, so he gave him a ride. That was the last ride my grandfather gave anybody. He was brutally beaten to death. He was thrown into a ditch, with only a blanket to cover him. His body was discovered a week later by a bus full of schoolchildren returning from spring vacation.

Because of his age and "good behavior," my grandfather's killer served only a few years for his crime.

"Worried" should ask her husband to read this letter. Perhaps then he will realize that someday my grandfather's story may be his own. I know how this hurt our family. I hope my letter will save another family from a similar tragedy. -- CONCERNED IN WASHINGTON

DEAR CONCERNED: I, too, hope your letter will serve as a warning to other kindhearted but misguided souls.

Never pick up a hitchhiker. If someone appears stranded on a street or highway, the prudent way to lend assistance is to notify the police, sheriff or highway patrol.

DEAR ABBY: As a professional who works with grieving individuals on a daily basis, I would like to offer another opinion to the person who wrote you advising that food brought to grieving people be brought in disposable containers or "garage sale castoffs" rather than in containers that need to be returned.

Abby, returning the empty container is the important part. It becomes a way for the grieving individual to have contact with the person who sent the food. That subsequent contact may be more needed than the food that came in the container.

People who are grieving need contact with others, and this is a good way to get it. -- PAUL V. JOHNSON, DIRECTOR OF AFTERCARE SERVICES, ST. PAUL, MINN.

DEAR MR. JOHNSON: You make an excellent point.

DEAR ABBY: This is in response to a recent letter in your column regarding dental patients who do not brush their teeth before their dental appointments.

I can understand the dental hygienist's chagrin. But I want to know what to say to a dentist when he has bad breath. On occasion, my dentist could use some mouthwash -- but I just don't know how to tell him. Do you have any ideas? -- GAGGING IN OHIO

DEAR GAGGING: How you tell people they have bad breath is not a problem. It's whether you have the courage to tell them that could be a problem.

If your relationship with the dentist is cordial, you might smile and say, "What's it going to be -- a mint, some mouthwash or a mask?" If you've caught your dentist unaware, the next question will be, "What do you mean?" to which you can respond, "You're about to wilt me with your dragon's breath."

For Abby's favorite family recipes, send a long, self-addressed envelope, plus check or money order for $3.95 ($4.50 in Canada) to: Dear Abby, Cookbooklet No. 1, P.O. Box 447, Mount Morris, Ill. 61054-0447. (Postage is included.)

DEAR ABBY: May I add to your continuing saga of persons "too old to go back to school"?

At the age of 64 and having only a 1937 diploma from an apprentice training school, I decided to enroll in a new weekend college program at Findlay (Ohio) College -- now the University of Findlay. The result? In 1985, at the age of 69, I was granted dual B.A. diplomas engraved "Cum Laude," which meant a five-year grade-point average of 3.56 on a scale of 4.0. My degrees are in business administration and information systems analysis (meaning computers).

My "excuse" for going to college at the age of 64 was to find out what I did right in business for 33 years. The secondary reason was to prove to myself that I was an "A" student -- which I accomplished by making the dean's list the second semester.

Because the dean of the college knew I expected to be treated like any other student, we both laughed about the professor who rushed into the dean's office and exclaimed, "I have a trustee of the college in my class! What do I do?" When the dean told me about it, my response was, "I hope you told him to fail me if I didn't do the work." To which the dean replied, "That is exactly what I told him." -- WAYNE I. PRIBBLE, NEW HAVEN, IND.

DEAR MR. PRIBBLE: Your letter proves it's never too late to resume one's education. We're never too old to learn as long as we're willing to make the effort. Congratulations on your accomplishment.

DEAR ABBY: "Wally" and I have been married for 15 years. We've had our ups and have been through some difficult situations. We support each other and care deeply, but there's one problem we cannot agree on.

Wally loves our house and has decided that all the walls should be painted white. We don't paint that often, but now that we've made some improvements to our home, it's time to paint again.

I would like to get away from the all-white look and consider using wallpaper. I've brought home wallpaper sample books and paint color charts, but all he'll say is that white looks best. He refuses to look through the books or compromise in any way.

We have lived in this white house for 12 years, and I think it's time I had my way. I could wait until he goes on a business trip and redecorate while he's gone, but that would be dishonest. I'm home more than he is since our children have come along. What should I do? -- COLORLESS IN NEWBURYPORT, MASS.

DEAR COLORLESS: An interior decorator who is used to sales resistance may help you convince Wally that a dash of color will liven up the place. Keep in mind that it doesn't have to be all or nothing. A decorator can help you "accessorize" your home with accents of color and texture, making it more visually interesting and less sterile. The bathrooms and kitchens would be the least threatening places to begin.

THOUGHT FOR THE DAY: "Far better it is to dare mighty things, to win glorious triumphs, even though checkered by failure, than to take rank with those poor spirits who neither enjoy much nor suffer much, because they live in the gray twilight that knows not victory nor defeat." -- THEODORE ROOSEVELT

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.)