DEAR ABBY: This is a prize-winning essay written by my 12-year-old granddaughter, Jenna Guimaraes. Perhaps you would like to share it with your readers. -- PHYL ERICKSON, COON RAPIDS, MINN.

DEAR PHYL: I'm pleased to print your granddaughter's essay. I can think of no better occasion than Veterans Day. Congratulations to Jenna.

PATRIOTISM

by Jenna Guimaraes

"I pledge allegiance to the flag of the United States of America, and to the republic for which it stands, one nation under God, indivisible, with liberty and justice for all."

Every day my classmates and I recite this oath. By doing this we promise to be true to our country, ourselves and our fellow Americans.

In school we study the history of our country, learning about those who lived long ago; who stood up for their beliefs, risked their lives, homes and safety to give promise to a better life to their descendants. Because of these people, our country is a great place to live.

Though we are younger than most countries, many look to us for protection, leadership, support and friendship.

Patriotism can be shown in many ways, even by ordinary people. Mary Hays, otherwise known as Molly Pitcher, is one of them.

Molly Pitcher carried water to the soldiers during the Revolutionary War. When one of the soldiers fell from heat stroke, Molly shot the cannon for him. Molly loved her country so much that she risked her life in battle, even at a time when women didn't fight.

We don't have to risk our lives to show our patriotism, but I am grateful to those who did.

DEAR READERS: Edward C. Iberger of Riverhead, N.Y., submitted this touching story of how "Taps," played at military funerals, originated. The source is the�Encyclopedia of Amazing but True Facts by Doug Storer:

It all began in 1862, during the Civil War, when a Union Army captain, Robert Ellicombe, was with his men near Harrison's Landing in Virginia. The Confederate Army was on the other side of this narrow strip of land.

During the night, Capt. Ellicombe heard the moan of a soldier who lay mortally wounded on the field. Not knowing if it was a Union or Confederate soldier, the captain decided to risk his life and bring back the stricken man for medical attention.

Crawling on his stomach through the gunfire, the captain reached the soldier and began pulling him back toward his encampment. When the captain finally reached his own lines, he discovered it was actually a Confederate soldier, but the soldier was dead.

The captain lit a lantern, suddenly caught his breath and went numb with shock. In the dim light of the lantern he saw the face of the soldier ... it was his own son! The young man had been studying music in the South when the war broke out, and without telling his father, he had enlisted in the Confederate Army.

The following morning, the heartbroken father asked permission of his supervisors to give his son a full military burial, despite the young man's enemy status. The captain's request was partially granted.

He asked if he could have a group of army band members play a dirge for his son at the funeral. His request was refused since the soldier was a Confederate. Out of respect for the captain, they said they could loan him one musician. He chose the bugler. The captain asked him to play a series of musical notes found in the pocket of the dead youth's uniform. This wish was granted. That music was the haunting bugle melody we now know as "Taps."

To order "How to Write Letters for All Occasions," send a business-sized, self-addressed envelope, plus check or money order for $3.95 ($4.50 in Canada) to: Dear Abby, Letter Booklet, P.O. Box 447, Mount Morris, Ill. 61054-0447. (Postage is included.)

DEAR ABBY: My 18-year-old daughter recently left to go across the country to college. Aside from the usual pangs of separation, I am overwhelmed with guilt at mistakes I made in raising her. It has struck me very hard that I can't "make it up to her" now.

Overall, I was a good mom. She was well taken care of physically and given many opportunities. But many times the emotional turmoil in my own life caused me to put her second, and she was hurt and angry. I was made painfully aware of just how bad it seemed to her when I found notes to herself she left in a dresser when she left for school. It breaks my heart to know she was so hurt by my actions.

I'm distraught and have trouble moving beyond this burden of guilt. I have considered suicide because of the hopelessness (you can't change the past), but I realize that would only cause more pain. What can I do? -- FEELING GUILTY, PORTLAND, ORE.

DEAR FEELING GUILTY: There are several things you can do. The first is to realize you are not powerless. Although there is nothing you can do about the past, there is a great deal you can do about the future.

Pick up the telephone and tell your doctor exactly how you are feeling. With medical help and counseling, you can quickly move beyond the feelings of hopelessness and pain.

Then, write or call your daughter and tell her that you found the notes she wrote -- and how sorry you are that you hurt her. Keep in mind that it is possible she has moved beyond the pain she felt when she wrote them. After all, she left them behind; she did not take them with her.

The most effective way to move beyond our mistakes -- and heaven knows we all make them -- is to apologize for any pain we might have caused and to resolve to do better in the future, and then act upon it. Dwelling on past mistakes achieves nothing. And suicide is a permanent solution to a temporary problem. I don't recommend it.

DEAR ABBY: To "Desperate Neighbors in L.A." you recommended a series of expensive modifications to their homes to decrease the noise level from another neighbor's loud music. While I agree they should check with police on noise ordinances, I suggest the writers do their rude and thoughtless neighbors one better:

Why not get together with friends and rent outdoor speakers? On an agreed-upon night when no one is going to sleep much anyway, wait until the offending neighbors are asleep. Then crank up a recording of a rousing classical march or suite -- something by Sousa or Tchaikovsky's "1812 Overture." Everyone could stand outside and blow whistles and honk horns, too. A couple of nights of this should get the message across.

I love your column. -- GEORGE L. CHAPPELL, OLYMPIA, WASH.

DEAR GEORGE: I can't in good conscience recommend tit for tat. If you resort to fighting fire with fire, you risk burning your own house down.

Abby shares more of her favorite, easy-to-prepare recipes. To order, send a business-size, self-addressed envelope, plus check or money order for $3.95 ($4.50 in Canada) to: Dear Abby, More Favorite Recipes, P.O. Box 447, Mount Morris, Ill. 61054-0447. (Postage is included.)

DEAR ABBY: Ever since I was a child, my mother clipped interesting recipes from newspapers and magazines and pasted them into a scrapbook.

Finally, her scrapbook deteriorated and fell apart. Mother threw it away instead of restoring it. When I found out, I was devastated. I told her I had been hoping that one day the scrapbook would have been passed down to me. Thank goodness, several years ago, when I left my mother's nest, I photocopied certain recipes from her scrapbook. One of them was a handwritten recipe for cheesecake.

For years, I thought it was her famous cheesecake recipe. Just this week, I discovered that the handwritten recipe I copied is not Mom's famous cheesecake recipe, but yours, clipped from the newspaper decades ago.

This is my entire family's favorite dessert and Mother was always asked to bake it for special occasions. My parents divorced and my mother rarely bakes now. My father's family always reminisces when dessert time comes around about my mother's delicious cheesecake.

My brother was married last February. He bragged to his future family about what a great baker my mother was and how everyone raved about her cheesecake. He then "volunteered" our mother to bring "her" famous cheesecake to the wedding shower.

Well, since Mom had thrown away her scrapbook with the recipe in it, she asked me for mine. I then realized that I had loaned mine out and never got it back, so Mom tried a different one.

The results were disastrous. The crust was a watery mess. This was not discovered until the morning of the bridal shower. Mom was in a state of panic. She had to rush out and buy a cake. The shower guests had expected my mother's famous cheesecake and she was embarrassed having to explain her predicament to everyone.

So, Abby, please grant me one wish. Print your famous cheesecake recipe again. It will guarantee that the tradition of having it at our family gatherings continues for generations. -- EAGERLY AWAITING IN WOODLAND HILLS, CALIF.

DEAR EAGERLY AWAITING: I'm happy to oblige. That recipe is included in my cookbooklet, "Dear Abby's Favorite Recipes," and it's a cinch to make.

CRUST: 1 1/2 cups graham cracker crumbs, 1/2 cup butter (1 cube), melted, and 1/3 cup powdered sugar.

CHEESECAKE: 3 (8-ounce) packages cream cheese, softened; 4 eggs; 1 cup sugar; 1 teaspoon vanilla; 1 pint dairy sour cream (room temperature), and a 21-ounce can prepared cherry, blueberry or strawberry pie filling.

METHOD: Heat oven to 350 degrees.

Combine graham cracker crumbs, powdered sugar and butter. Press into bottom of an 8-inch springform pan.

In a large bowl, beat cream cheese, eggs, sugar and vanilla until smooth. Pour mixture over prepared crust.

Bake at 350 for 50 minutes (until center is set). Remove from oven and spread sour cream on top of cake. Return to oven and bake an additional 5 minutes. Remove from oven and allow to cool. Spread desired topping on cheesecake. Chill overnight. Before serving, carefully remove sides from pan.

Serves: 16.

Tip: To minimize cracking, place a shallow pan half full of hot water on lower rack of oven during baking. Be sure the sour cream is room temperature when you spread it on.

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.)