DEAR ABBY: I am an 82-year-old volunteer at one of our finest hospitals. Over a period of 45 years, I have accumulated 16,300 hours of service. I am enclosing a letter I clipped from a column you wrote in 1979. Please run it again. It would be extremely helpful to all who volunteer their services in hospitals and nursing homes.

Thanking you in advance, I am ... MRS. EDNA S. GREENBERG, TYLER, TEXAS

DEAR MRS. GREENBERG: Congratulations for the number of hours you have served as a hospital volunteer. And thank you for the item you saved from my column. I agree, it's worth a rerun, and here it is:

DEAR ABBY: Do you want to do the hospital volunteers a big favor? Please tell your readers that mail addressed to "Buzz" Jackson, "Skip" Jones or "Tootsie" Brown will probably not be delivered to patients in a hospital.

Nicknames are not recorded on hospital records. The patients are registered under their legal names (first, middle and last). We have no idea who "Liz," "Corky," "Red" or "Junior" is.

Yesterday I looked for "Al Johnson" and found none. However, I did find a "Henry Alvin Johnson." I later learned that the patient called himself "Al" so he wouldn't be confused with his father, who was called "Henry."

So, please print this, Abby. I could cry every time I see a stack of mail that can't be delivered because it is improperly addressed.

And wouldn't you know, the sender never puts a return address on the envelope, either! -- FRUSTRATED IN PHOENIX

DEAR FRUSTRATED: I'll pass the word. I hope it helps.

DEAR ABBY: Several months ago you reprinted a letter from "Open for Suggestions" about a woman who was concerned about her daughter's classmate who came to school dirty. You advised that she contact the teacher, who would then contact the proper authorities.

I know your heart was in the right place, but really Abby, does our first recourse need to be contacting the authorities? I have been a foster parent and know how frightening the authorities can be to a child and a family.

"Open to Suggestions" wanted to talk to the boy's mother. I think she was on the right track. She should have gotten to know the woman as a friend and then made suggestions about the boy's appearance. His parents may have only needed some friendly educating. And of course, if on her first visit it was obvious that the child was neglected, after that she could have spoken to the teacher.

I grew up in a home that was filthy. I often wore the same clothes for days. We rarely washed the sheets, and I had no idea people ever washed floors or windows. But my parents fed and sheltered me. They helped me with schoolwork, marveled at my creations, held me when I cried, remembered my birthday, read me bedtime stories and so much more. The things I learned from them are more valuable than clean clothes. (Later, I learned housekeeping from my mother-in-law.)

These days people don't take the time to know others. If our neighbors are noisy, we call the police. If nearby residents don't mow their lawns, we call city authorities. If a co-worker crosses us, we complain to the boss.

I vote for talking out our differences and calling in help as a last resort. I learned this from my dear parents, who both held master's degrees in the sciences from leading universities -- and from you, Dear Abby. -- A FAITHFUL FAN

CONFIDENTIAL TO THOSE WHO READ ME FAITHFULLY, OCCASIONALLY OR RARELY: Have a merry Christmas. If you're drinking, please don't drive. And if you're driving, please don't drink.

For an excellent guide to becoming a better conversationalist and a more attractive person, order "How to Be Popular." Send a business-sized, self-addressed envelope, plus check or money order for $3.95 ($4.50 in Canada) to: Dear Abby Popularity Booklet, P.O. Box 447, Mount Morris, Ill. 61054-0447. (Postage is included.)

DEAR ABBY: Jerry and I have been married for five years. It's a second marriage for both of us. The problem is we have a serious clash of personalities, which was probably true when we were dating, but I was wearing rose-colored glasses back then.

I'm naturally a positive, upbeat person; Jerry is stubborn and grouchy 90 percent of the time. He picks apart every little thing and looks for reasons to pout or be mad. I found out after we were married that he has been this way since he was very young. I'm usually relieved when he goes off to do something without me, just for the peace I get while he's gone.

I've tried everything I know to help him, but it's very tiring trying to cheer Jerry up. I've come very close to leaving him twice in the last two years.

How does a woman with a positive attitude live with a complaining, nagging man who seems hell-bent on inflicting everyone with his negative attitude? -- TIRED OF LIVING WITH A GROUCH

DEAR TIRED: It is highly unlikely that you can change your husband's personality. However, you can change the way you react to Jerry's moods.

Counseling should help you learn to tolerate his moods so that you will be less affected by them. Ideally, you should both have counseling. If he refuses, go without him.

DEAR ABBY: Your answer to "Frustrated Homeowner," who was upset because his neighbors parked in front of his house, was good up to a point. But what if you got a response like this: "You don't own the street. I need the space in front of my house in case company comes," plus a few choice remarks about your ancestors?

In my case, my neighbor's mother would drive up almost every Saturday morning and park in front of my house, and her car would just sit there until she left Sunday night. The curb in front of my neighbor's house was always empty.

Well, I had phone messages from friends who said, "We drove by Sunday afternoon, but didn't stop because you had company," etc. So one day I went over to my neighbor and asked him if his mother could please park in front of his house. Well, I got a tongue-lashing I'll never forget and went home with my tail between my legs.

The next weekend I brought the company pickup truck home and parked it so that my neighbor's mother would have plenty of room for her car. On Sunday afternoon I pulled the family station wagon out of the garage and parked it up close to the back bumper of her car. Next I backed the pickup close to "Mom's" front bumper and locked both vehicles up tight. Then I went inside to watch television.

About 8 p.m., my doorbell rang. It was my neighbor asking me to move one of the vehicles so that his mom could get out.

"Sure thing," I replied. "I'll be right out just as soon as I get my shoes on." Then I went back to my chair and continued to watch my TV show. Half an hour later, the doorbell rings and it's my irate neighbor wanting to know, "How long does it take to put on your damn shoes?"

Well, after an hour and a half, I moved my pickup, and Mom shot out of there and burned rubber for half a block. I gathered that she was a little upset with me, but she never parked in front of my place again. -- VINCE WOGMAN, CHEHALIS, WASH.

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: I want to thank you for Operation Dear Abby. I was in the Navy for five years. Holidays were a miserable time for me until I received the Operation Dear Abby letters. Not having a close family, I truly appreciated the heartfelt gestures from everyone. It made me feel very proud to receive the love and support from you and the caring citizens of our country. I cried real tears of happiness with the encouragement I received from so many whose faces I did not know.

I am now medically retired, but I still remember the joy I received. So now I send letters to those who are stationed overseas.

I can't thank you enough for remembering the military men and women who give up their families to give strength and protection to our greater family -- our nation. God bless you and all of those who have ever sent those letters and gifts. I will be forever grateful. -- NAVY PRIDE, RIVERDALE, CALIF.

DEAR NAVY PRIDE: Thank you for a beautiful letter, which I'm sharing with all those who have worked so hard to make Operation Dear Abby a success. May the holiday be healthy and happy for all of you.

DEAR ABBY: I must comment in regard to the letter from "Hell on the Home Front" -- the Florida mother whose young daughter had returned to the nest.

For one thing, being out on her own has to be hell on the 18-year-old. She is fresh out of high school with no experience or realization of what life is about or the responsibilities entailed. I am 28 years old, and being on my own is no easy task.

The daughter may be crying out for guidance and companionship. Instead, her mother is looking at her daughter as a burden and distraction -- and even a destroyer of her marriage. That mother should take the time to speak with her daughter instead of telling her what to do or acting as if she were 18 years old herself. Obviously, they did not get along in the first place.

Older teen-agers (or should we call them young adults?) need their self-esteem and confidence bolstered. They do not need to be pushed out the door. Please sign me ... HAPPY TO HAVE HAD A MOTHER WHO SAT AND TALKED TO ME IN L.A.

DEAR HAPPY: I agree with you that there are fences that need mending in the household. The daughter may be immature and cannot be expected to know what she hasn't been taught.

DEAR ABBY: I have a Christmas story I would like to share with you:

Just about 14 years ago, our family spent the Christmas holiday skiing at Keystone, Colo. On Christmas morning, as is our custom, we were all gathered in the living room, opening our presents as the radio played lovely carols. Our grandson Peter, age 6, struggled up to me with a large box he'd obviously wrapped himself with many pieces of Christmas wrap and lots of Scotch tape! Placing it in my lap, he said, "This is for you, Granddaddy."

I, of course, showed great excitement to be receiving anything so large. With great ceremony, I carefully unwrapped it. I looked inside and said, "Well, Peter, what a joke you've played on your old grandfather -- you forgot to put anything in this box!'

With a startled look, he raised on his tiptoes, looked in the box and then looked at me, saying, "Oh, no, Granddaddy, I didn't give you an empty present. I filled it with love!" In that moment, our 6-year-old grandson gave us a gift we shall never forget and taught us the true meaning of Christmas. -- DAVID B. PICKFORD, CEDAR RAPIDS, IOWA

DEAR MR. PICKFORD: Thank you for sharing your priceless gift. You should be very proud of your grandson.

CONFIDENTIAL TO EDWARD PHILLIPS IN MINNEAPOLIS: HAPPY BIRTHDAY, SON. YOU WERE WELL WORTH THE LABOR PAINS!

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.)