DEAR ABBY: I would like to add to your collection of random acts of kindness with the story of something that happened to me about 53 years ago:

In June of 1943, I graduated from high school and, along with most of my classmates, immediately joined the military service. After receiving basic training at Camp Grant, Ill., I was sent to Camp Stoneman, Calif., for deployment to the Pacific theater of operations.

We had little to do for the following seven weeks as we waited for a ship to transport us, so we took advantage of the liberal pass policy and spent our weekends in San Francisco, about 50 miles away. It was virtually impossible to find a hotel room in the city. Even the chairs, couches and every inch of floor were occupied by a human body in uniform. If all else failed, we'd buy a ticket to any movie, sit in the third balcony, and sleep until the management ejected us in the early morning.

One night my buddy, a high school classmate from back home, got the bright idea to try a hotel in Oakland across the bay. We found a very classy residential hotel where the lobby was absolutely empty except for the night clerk, and hesitantly asked if we might rest a while in the lobby. He granted us permission and we instantly drifted off to sleep.

About 7 a.m. I awoke and found myself gazing into the smiling face of a sweet motherly lady, who had apparently placed my head in her lap. Sitting up, I apologized, and noticed that she was accompanied by another lady of similar age. My buddy had been awake for some time, but they had not permitted him to disturb me.

We were given the key to their apartment and informed that we would find soap, towels, a razor, shaving cream and a comb in their bathroom, and that we should go "freshen up." When we returned to the lobby, they presented us with a bag of sandwiches and wished us Godspeed.

You can understand why I have never forgotten those two wonderful ladies. If only I had gotten their names and addresses. If only ... -- WILLIAM J. MYERS JR., CARLISLE, PA.

DEAR MR. MYERS: What a delightful story, and beautifully told. The degree of patriotism, generosity and commitment to the war effort during World War II remains unequaled. However, I am reminded of it every year at Christmastime during Operation Dear Abby. Last year's effort on the part of Americans of every age brought FIVE TONS of mail to our servicemen and women overseas.

DEAR ABBY: I am a man of 65 years -- almost 66.

In November 1994, I went into a local supermarket. There was an organ in the store for the holiday season and featured a drawing for music lessons. I observed an attractive lady filling out a slip for the drawing, and being a friendly person, I walked over to her and started a conversation. On learning that she was a widow (I was a widower), I said, "You probably have a boyfriend." She replied, "No, I don't." I asked for her name and telephone number and she gave them to me.

That night I called and invited her to dinner.

To make a long story short, I fell in love with her and we were married the next June. We're still in love and still on our honeymoon. I never tire of telling people how lovely she is and how much I love her. -- ROBERT ROSS, LARGO, FLA.

DEAR ROBERT: Lucky you -- and lucky Mrs. Ross. It's always inspiring to hear a love story, especially one that blossoms in the autumn of one's life. May you and your bride have many wonderful years together.

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.)

DEAR ABBY: Six months ago I found a lump in my breast. After a diagnosis of cancer, I decided to have a radical mastectomy. My husband and I told no one except our closest relatives.

My sister-in-law got up in church and announced to the entire congregation that I'd had surgery. My mother told all my acquaintances and even an old boyfriend.

I am very upset about this. No one should discuss someone else's medical matters unless given permission (and had I been asked, I would have said emphatically, "No!").

I feel betrayed and hurt, and I find it hard to be civil to my sister-in-law and mother now. I'd really like to move away and never see any of them again. I think they used me to get attention for themselves.

Please tell your readers to consider the person who is ill before talking about private family matters, and to ask before announcing them publicly. -- HURTING IN KANSAS

DEAR HURTING: If you told your mother and sister-in-law that you wanted your surgery kept confidential and they betrayed your confidence, then what they did was wrong. You have my sympathy for your painful ordeal.

However, I hope that you will reconsider your stance on this and not let your anger stand between you and your family. You all need each other right now. Consider the idea that they were acting out of love, and were seeking prayers and support for you from the community, as well as trying to cope with their own fears.

DEAR ABBY: My boyfriend and I have been dating for 2 1/2 years. We are both 22 years old and love each other very much and have been talking about marriage.

The problem is that Sam says that before we get married he would like to date other girls. He says he's had steady girls all through high school and never had a chance to "sow his wild oats."

I can see his point, but I'm worried that I might lose him forever. Am I crazy to agree to this? -- SCARED IN DENVER

DEAR SCARED: If you are seriously considering marriage to a young man who's asking for permission to sow his wild oats, I advise you to postpone the wedding until he is completely done. That way, you won't have to pray for a crop failure.

DEAR ABBY: I read your column daily and enjoy it very much. I have wanted to tell you about something my oldest son did that made me very proud.

When he was a junior in high school (a very small school in the Midwest), the mothers were asked to prepare the banquet dinner for the Junior-Senior Prom. While the students were dancing and enjoying the prom, several of us mothers stood near the door of the gym proudly watching our children.

To my surprise, my son came over and asked me to dance. He had a date, but he wanted to dance with me for one dance. I felt so honored and proud.

My son is now a prominent man in the business world and has a lovely family of his own.

I hope his loving gesture will inspire other young men to honor their mothers in similar ways. -- PROUD MOTHER

DEAR PROUD MOTHER: You have reason to be proud of your sensitive and appreciative son. He is a credit to your loving parenting. You raised him well.

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.)

DEAR ABBY: When I saw the letter from the angry husband who signed his letter "Just Say No, My Foot," I had to write. Men seem to think that a woman, after working a full day, dealing with the kids, fixing meals, doing housework and rarely receiving a kind word, gesture or kiss from her mate, will somehow be sexually excited the minute they hop into bed and will want to attack her husband with those uncontrollable desires. I'm afraid the opposite is true.

My husband had no idea that foreplay begins in the morning and lasts all day. Of course, we had to talk about the definition of foreplay -- which I described as helping me out around the house, with the kids, the laundry, the housework. I also let him know it would be nice to receive compliments like he used to give when we were courting and first married. Along with that needs to go some kind of physical contact like hugs and kisses, which I know I need to let me know that he still cares. All of these things begin to get us in the mood so that when the opportunity arises, we are as willing as they are.

Some nights I'm just not sexually motivated, but if my husband has made the effort to make me feel wanted and cared for, then I'll do the same for him.

I have a car that's 20 years old and I have to start it 10 minutes before I get ready to leave because the engine needs to warm up. After it's warm, it runs great. If I try to drive it cold, I don't get far. Well, the same goes for me in reference to intimacy and sex.

Men need to be reminded to treat their wives the way they did when they first met them and were convincing them what a great catch they would make. A little tenderness, kindness and helpfulness will get them what they want. Give and you will receive. -- OVER 35 WITH A SATISFIED HUSBAND

DEAR OVER 35: Thank you for your profound observations. The letter from the cynical husband has struck nerves all over the country. Am I ever getting letters! Read on:

DEAR ABBY: "Just Say No, My Foot" could have been writing about me. Like his wife, I was 35, married 10 years, and had found every excuse in the world to say no to sex. I thought I'd never feel passionate or sexual again. Of course, that was before we got some marital counseling together.

It is now seven years later. I have two children under 2 years old and have sex almost every day. Most of the time I initiate it! What has caused this dramatic change? My husband.

My "new" husband tells me how pretty I am, even though I have gained 30 pounds after having the babies. He takes my hand in the car and puts his arm around me while watching television. When I'm cooking or tending to the baby, he comes up behind me, rubs my shoulders, and tells me what a good wife and mother I am. At night, when I'm dead tired, he puts his arms around me, tells me how wonderful I am and strokes my hair as I fall asleep.

My husband also goes out of his way to make time for sex when I am awake and in the mood. Sometimes this means coming home from work in the middle of the day! If "Just Say No, My Foot's" wife had a husband like mine, I'm sure she would love making love to him. -- SAYING YES ALL THE TIME

DEAR JUST SAY NO, MY FOOT, AND OTHER MALE READERS: I don't know how many husbands will find this column on their pillows or breakfast plates, but those who do should regard it as a road map to a happy marriage. Anyone who doubts it should ask his wife. Sometimes you have to give a little to get a lot.

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.)