DEAR ABBY: Last year a family with three children the ages of ours (5, 7 and 11) moved to our block. These are the nicest kids you could imagine. Our children get along famously with them.

After a month or two, their mom mentioned that they normally skinny-dip in their pool and wondered how we felt about our kids doing so when they were visiting. When I explained that we believe in keeping the body private, she assured me that they would be clothed whenever we visited, and nothing more was said about it.

We have socialized with them throughout the year and really enjoyed it. In addition to their swimming naked, I was told that everyone in their family sleeps in the nude, so I can only assume they walk around naked from time to time.

My husband and I began wearing nightclothes when our first child was nearing 2 because we were both raised to believe that exposing oneself to children was harmful. Yet I keep wondering if it is so harmful, why is this family so well-adjusted?

Frankly, my husband and I would like to sleep in the nude again and I would like to skinny-dip in their pool, but I'm confused as to what is right and wrong. Can you help? -- ELLEN C. IN VALENCIA, CALIF.

DEAR ELLEN: There is no "right" or "wrong" here. How one feels about nudity is a personal decision.

DEAR ABBY: I have a problem I have never seen addressed in your column or anybody else's. It's doctors who scribble prescriptions in such a hurry that they can't be read, and pharmacists who fail to double-check them with the doctor.

My frail 95-year-old mother was given a double dose of strong medicine by mistake because of a hastily scribbled prescription. The pharmacist didn't check with the doctor -- he just filled it. The nurse at the doctor's office said this happens all the time.

Another patient was taking medicine four times a day when the prescription should have stated "daily."

My son was given only 100 mg. of medication when it should have been 300 mg.

Abby, this is important. What good is it to have a high-priced doctor if no one can read the prescriptions he writes and the pharmacist doesn't take the time to call and check it out? -- ANGRY IN ST. PETERSBURG, FLA.

DEAR ANGRY: Your letter is well worth space in my column. Doctors, please take care when writing prescriptions. And pharmacists, if you can't read the prescription, call and check with the doctor who wrote it.

DEAR ABBY: I have a problem I have never seen addressed in your column or anybody else's. It's doctors who scribble prescriptions in such a hurry that they can't be read, and pharmacists who fail to double-check them with the doctor.

My frail 95-year-old mother was given a double dose of strong medicine by mistake because of a hastily scribbled prescription. The pharmacist didn't check with the doctor -- he just filled it. The nurse at the doctor's office said this happens all the time.

Another patient was taking medicine four times a day when the prescription should have stated "daily."

My son was given only 100 mg. of medication when it should have been 300 mg.

Abby, this is important. What good is it to have a high-priced doctor if no one can read the prescriptions he writes and the pharmacist doesn't take the time to call and check it out? -- ANGRY IN ST. PETERSBURG, FLA.

DEAR ANGRY: Your letter is well worth space in my column. Doctors, please take care when writing prescriptions. And pharmacists, if you can't read the prescription, call and check with the doctor who wrote it.

DEAR ABBY: I am a single woman who has been dating a very nice man for the past year. He is a perfect gentleman, intelligent, kind, comfortably retired and has many friends.

This relationship could lead to marriage. We enjoy each other's company and like to do the same things.

The only thing holding me back is his language. He uses terms like "dis, dat and dem" for "this, that and them."

This may seem childish, but I just can't accept the way he speaks. Sometimes I am embarrassed when we are with friends.

Should I tell him how I feel? He is such a nice person, but I think I will probably quit seeing him because of the language problem. Sign me ... MEANT FOR EACH OTHER IN MILWAUKEE

DEAR MEANT FOR EACH OTHER: The gentleman who is "comfortably retired" would find it very difficult, if not impossible, to change the way he speaks. If you can't accept him as he is and you find him an embarrassment, do him a favor and let him go.

DEAR ABBY: I am 34 years old and coach high school volleyball and basketball. I was diagnosed with breast cancer last November. I had a radical mastectomy on Wednesday, Nov. 20, and was at our green-and-gold basketball game Saturday, Nov. 23. I returned to practice on Monday, Nov. 26. I haven't missed a practice or a basketball game from that time on.

I owe my speedy recovery to the support of my family, friends, players and co-workers. Nothing heals better than love, hope and a purpose. I have found that each good day has turned into a good week. Each good week has turned into a good month, and with God's grace, each good month will turn into a good year and a good lifetime.

My advice to breast cancer victims: Get back to your life as soon as possible. Use your friends for support. Find the best doctors and treatment you can, then find a way to enjoy the life you have been given.

By the end of December, I had played one-on-one basketball and gone bowling and swimming. I constantly looked for ways to challenge myself to be "normal" again. Breast cancer is not a death sentence. As a matter of fact, it has been a wake-up call to life. Even with breast cancer, it's great to be alive. -- MADELYN FLENOR, ALMA, ARK.

DEAR MADELYN: I am printing your letter as an inspiration to other breast cancer survivors. Your letter is truly amazing. However, people must keep in mind that not everyone heals at the same rate, and should give themselves permission to experience their recovery at their own pace. The best of luck to you.

DEAR ABBY: I am very worried about my 32-year-old son. I'll call him "Rob." He is the oldest of three sons, all of whom still live at home. My two younger sons are doing well. However, Rob is very shy and solitary. He was fired from each of the three jobs he has held (as a computer programmer) -- ostensibly for being slow. He was advised by one of his supervisors to get into Toastmasters. He never did.

He lost his most recent job almost a year and a half ago. He now seems to be in a rut and has made no effort to find employment. His only social contact apparently is a weekly bike ride with his bike club.

I work, so I am out of the house five days a week. He has continued to pay room and board, as he had considerable savings. However, those savings are now drying up, and I cannot and will not pay his car insurance bill when it's due.

I keep urging him to get his resume up-to-date and start looking for work. He doesn't even glance at the help-wanted ads. His brothers have both expressed the opinion that he needs therapy -- but doesn't he have to want to get help for himself?

Two months ago I set a time limit of six weeks in which he had to be "actively seeking employment" or move in with his father. He did nothing except work on his resume a minimal amount. He justifies his lack of action by saying that he just keeps procrastinating. I did not enforce the penalty and make him move out.

I have a feeling he'll wait until he's almost broke and this may spur him into action. But then I worry that he may get fired all over again and his confidence will suffer even more.

I feel I should do something for him, but I'm not sure what. Any suggestions you could offer would be tremendously appreciated. -- WORRIED MOTHER, NORTH HOLLYWOOD, CALIF.

DEAR WORRIED MOTHER: Your son is overdue for a physical examination and a mental evaluation. He is not operating on all cylinders, and he needs more help than I can offer in a letter.

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: A few years ago at the request of an elderly woman, you published a touching poem that Jimmy Stewart had read on the Johnny Carson show. In the past few weeks, the media have said much about his various roles in the movies, but I've heard no mention of this poem, although it truly reflects the type of man he was.

Could you please run it again as a tribute to the late Jimmy Stewart? -- KATHY LONG, READING, PA.

DEAR KATHY: With pleasure. Jimmy Stewart was loved by many people. The touching poem is titled "Beau" -- and here it is:

"BEAU" by Jimmy Stewart

He never came to see me when I would call --

Unless I had a tennis ball.

But mostly he didn't come at all.

When he was young, he never learned to heel or sit or stay.

He did things his own way.

Discipline was not his bag.

But when you were with him, things sure didn't drag.

He'd dig up a rosebush to spite me

And when I'd grab him, he'd bite me.

He bit lots of folks from day to day.

The delivery boy was his favorite prey.

The gas man wouldn't read our meter.

He said we owned a real man-eater.

He set the house on fire, but the story is long to tell.

Suffice to say, he survived, and the house survived as well.

On evening walks, and Gloria took him,

He was always first out the door.

The old one and I brought up the rear because our bones were sore.

He'd charge up the street with Mom hanging on --

What a beautiful pair they were!

And if it was still light and the tourists were out,

They created a bit of a stir.

But every once in a while he'd stop in his tracks

With a frown on his face, and look around.

It was just to make sure the old one was there

To follow him where he was bound.

We're early bedders at our house,

I guess the first to retire,

And as I would leave the room,

He'd look at me from his place by the fire.

He knew where the tennis balls were upstairs.

I'd give him one for a while.

He'd push it under the bed with his nose,

And I'd push it out with a smile.

Before very long, he'd tire of the ball

And he would be asleep in his corner in no time at all.

And there were nights when I'd feel him climb upon our bed

And lie between us and I'd pat his head.

There were nights when I'd feel his stare,

And I'd wake up and he'd be sitting there.

I'd reach out to stroke his fur,

And sometimes I'd feel him sigh.

I think I know the reason why.

He'd wake up at night and he would have this fear

Of the dark, of life, of lots of things

And he'd be glad to have me near.

And now he's dead, and there are nights when I think

I feel him climb upon our bed.

And be between us, and I'd pat his head.

And there are nights when I think I feel that stare

And I reach out my hand to stroke his hair

And he's not there.

Oh, how I wish that wasn't so --

I'll always love a dog named Beau.

For everything you need to know about wedding planning, order "How to Have a Lovely Wedding." Send a business-sized, self-addressed envelope, plus check or money order for $3.95 ($4.50 in Canada) to: Dear Abby, Wedding Booklet, P.O. Box 447, Mount Morris, Ill. 61054-0447. (Postage is included.)