DEAR ABBY: I am a woman who has known my entire life that I was adopted. It made no difference to me.

Mom always answered any questions I had when I was curious about my birth parents. After my first child was born, I became curious and decided to see if I could find them. I talked it over with my mom. She encouraged me and even suggested ways I could try to find them. I had little money to spend on registries and investigators, nor did I want to be intrusive in case they had families who had not been told about me. I started registering with various adoption Web sites. After almost 10 years, I found my birth parents. They are wonderful people, and I'm happy to know them and for them to know me.

Now for the problem: When I told my mom I had found my birth parents, she was initially happy for me. Then, the very next day, she informed me that I was "messing with the foundation of the family" by doing this. I was devastated. I had never hidden the fact that I was searching. I love my parents dearly, but they have now put up a wall I can't breach, and they refuse to discuss it. They have started shutting me out of their family, to the point of failing to tell me my grandmother was dying until after she was gone.

I don't want my children to lose the only grandparents they have known their entire lives, but seeing me miserable every time we get together can't be good for them. How do I handle this? -- HURTING IN OHIO

DEAR HURTING: Although your mother initially helped you with your adoption search, on some level she never really thought you would find your birth parents. When you announced that you had, she felt threatened and betrayed, and (putting it mildly) overreacted and became punitive. Not telling you that your grandmother was dying was inexcusable.

Since she and your father won't discuss it, write them a letter. Tell them how much you love them and remind them that they are the only family you have ever known. Explain that you have no intention of hurting anyone. If that doesn't work, ask their clergyperson to intercede. If they don't have one, perhaps another trusted relative would do it for you.

If that doesn't work, then I agree that exposing your children to an atmosphere with an undercurrent of hostility is not healthy. Continue to cultivate a relationship with your birth parents and other relatives -- and know that you did what you could to heal the breach and go on with your life with a clear conscience.

DEAR ABBY: Please settle an argument: How long should one wait for somebody?

I recently had a date with a friend. We agreed to meet at a specific time and place. After my friend failed to arrive 15 minutes past the appointed time, I left. Evidently he showed up five minutes later.

Now he is annoyed with me. He says good manners require that one wait 30 minutes for friends or family and 15 minutes for business associates or new acquaintances.

What do you make of this, Abby? Some people are perpetually late, so I need some reasonable guidelines. -- CLOCK-WATCHER IN LOS ANGELES

DEAR CLOCK-WATCHER: Nowhere is it written that one "must" wait a certain amount of time for someone who is perpetually late. Common sense dictates that if someone knows he or she is running late, the person should call and inform whomever is waiting. (Almost everyone has a cellular phone or pager these days.)

P.S. I'll bet your friend is on time next time!

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-size, self-addressed envelope, plus check or money order for $5 (U.S. funds only) to: Dear Abby, Teen Booklet, P.O. Box 447, Mount Morris, IL 61054-0447. (Postage is included.)

DEAR ABBY: Recently my son entered a derby car race at his Cub Scout meeting. He left the house proud of the derby car he fashioned from a block of wood. My husband had shown him how to use the proper tools, to sand and paint the car -- but it was our son's design.

When my son and husband arrived at the race track, it was obvious many of the fathers had done far more than supervise the making of the derby cars. In fact, many of the fathers bragged about how they had designed, cut and painted their sons' cars -- even going so far as adding "hidden" weights so they would go faster! One of the youngest boys in the pack won a huge trophy for "best in show." His car was elaborately carved and decorated far beyond his capabilities.

We told our son he should be proud of his car because he had followed instructions and created it himself. Unfortunately, some of the other boys made our son feel their dads loved them more because they had made prettier, faster cars for them.

Abby, I am afraid this is another example of parents reliving their youth at the expense of their children. The fathers should never have taken over this project. What did these boys learn? That it's OK to cheat? I'd love to see this addressed because I know it happens all over the country. -- PROUD MOM IN OHIO

DEAR PROUD MOM: You are describing parents who are determined to make sure their children succeed even if it means cutting a few corners. And you're absolutely right -- I doubt that a trophy a child hasn't earned and knows isn't deserved will make him or her feel like a winner. The prize becomes meaningless. The child's abilities are diminished, and the youngster is left feeling that he or she can't perform.

DEAR ABBY: I'm enclosing a poem I wrote after visiting Auschwitz. I hope you will print it in your column on April 19, Holocaust Remembrance Day. -- TAWNYSHA LYNCH

DEAR TAWNYSHA: I'm pleased to print your poem as a tribute to the many souls who have been sacrified over the centuries because of man's inhumanity to man.

NEVER FORGET by Tawnysha Lynch

(Excerpted from "Remembrance," copyright 2001)

I may have died long ago,

But I am not gone.

My body may rest among thousands,

But I still exist.

When you see this camp before you,

You see where I breathed my last.

When you look at the ground,

You see my footprints.

As you walk upon this soil,

You step over my bones.

When you see old photographs,

My eyes look at yours.

When you hear the wind whisper,

You are hearing my voice.

When your eyes brim with tears,

It is me tugging your heart.

"Never forget," I whisper to you

And you hear my desperate words.

I may not be alive today,

But in your heart, I still live.

Remember me.

For everything you need to know about wedding planning, order "How to Have a Lovely Wedding." Send a business-size, self-addressed envelope, plus check or money order for $5 (U.S. funds only) to: Dear Abby, Wedding Booklet, P.O. Box 447, Mount Morris, IL 61054-0447. (Postage is included.)

DEAR ABBY: My "Aunt Woo Woo" was a high school teacher all her life. She retired at 62, and after her husband died, she returned to college to get a degree in special education.

She lived in a dorm, showed the young co-eds a thing or two (she was quite a rounder!), and then taught until she was 87.

Tell those who have a dream to go for it -- at any age. -- ROSE PITFORD, KEOKUK, IOWA

DEAR ROSE: I've been doing it for years, and readers have taken it to heart. I recently read about a gentleman in his 90s who had just graduated from college -- and he's not alone. Read on:

DEAR ABBY: As a child, I wanted to be a teacher to follow in my grandmother's footsteps. I made my sister play school. I made the neighbor kids play school. Nobody was safe from my teaching.

I never went beyond high school, married young and had a family right away. On my 38th birthday, our home and all possessions were burned in a fire. My life changed forever. I became a firefighter. At the age of 42, I began taking college classes in fire science. With 60 hours of college credit, I became a substitute teacher on my days off from the fire department.

It took years to earn my associate's degree in fire science technology. I entered the University of South Florida -- still a professional firefighter. (I was the oldest female professional firefighter in the United States throughout my career.)

I retired from the fire service in 1998 and, at age 55, entered college full time. It took 2 1/2 years to complete my degree.

Abby, not for a moment do I regret all the life experiences I brought to the teaching profession. I know I can continue to contribute to the education of children for another 20 years if I choose.

Would I do this over again? In a heartbeat! -- E. DIANE LAPOINTE, BRADENTON, FLA.

DEAR DIANE: Your work ethic and ability to contribute are awesome. My hat's off to you. I'm sure your example will inspire others.

DEAR ABBY: After being frustrated about not being able to track down and properly thank some of the teachers who helped me get where I am today, I had an idea. Wouldn't it be wonderful if each teacher had an e-mail address assigned to him or her -- even after they retired? If teachers heard from their former students, they would better understand the impact they made on our lives. Perhaps some great former teachers would even return to their profession. -- GRATEFUL DOCTOR IN DALLAS

DEAR GRATEFUL DOCTOR: Your idea has merit. However, until that day arrives, a phone call, or better still a letter, can achieve the same goal.

DEAR ABBY: Do you have space for one more "birds and bees" story? When my son and his playmate were very little, some big boys horrified them by bluntly telling them the "facts of life." Left alone, the two little boys talked the matter over anxiously. They finally decided, with a great surge of relief, that the big boys had been lying through their teeth.

"Of course they were lying!" my son's little pal assured him triumphantly, "and I can prove it. You see, maybe my mother MIGHT, but I know for sure my daddy would NEVER!" -- M.S. from DALLAS

DEAR M.S.: Which proves you should never say "Never"!

To order "How to Write Letters for All Occasions," send a business-sized, self-addressed envelope, plus check or money order for $5 (U.S. funds) to: Dear Abby -- Letter Booklet, P.O. Box 447, Mount Morris, IL 61054-0447. (Postage is included in the price.)