Suddenly I thought of the "B" word. Now don't get upset. I realize that this is a family column and I am not going to discuss matters that are not suitable for young and/or sensitive eyes.

(But I must admit that those far younger than I can go through an entire litany of alphabetical letters that stand for subjects not fit for print.)

However, this "B" stands for Birthday and my mind was traveling back many years.

"Birthdays are for children," Mama told me whenever April rolled around, as it usually did once a year. And then Mama added that she didn't want or need a party and again no gifts because what would she do with a shmatte that was the wrong size or the wrong color or the wrong price (too expensive) or a combination of all three negatives.

Of course, when it came to children, this was a completely different affair. (Excuse the pun.) You always had a few school friends over and there were cupcakes and candies.

We had quickly grown out of party hats. And as for gifts, with us it was something you needed, like socks or underwear with a few extra coins thrown in for good luck, And of course, there were birthday candles and singing and we blew out the candles and there was a general shout of mazel tov! Mingled with the traditional "Happy Birthday!" as we counted the years.

Mama's years were always a sort of secret because she didn't want anyone to give her a kayn aynhoreh, the evil eye, and when she was asked, her rejoinder might well be, "Old enough to vote" or "Old enough to know better" or even, "The next time I look I'll let you know" climaxed with "Besides, age is only a number," and we were too polite to add, "But in your case, it's a rather large number."

So all these memories flitted through my mind as I realized that the grandson was nearing his 18th birthday and we had not yet bought a suitable gift. And just as I was mulling over the area of presents, Jonathon, a former student passed me in the corridor as I was leaving my class.

He needed a reference and as I often point out to my students, "There are very few areas I am good at. So don't ask me about your word processor or you e-mail account or how to text message. But when it comes to writing letters of reference, now I can hold my head up high."

So I smiled and took the sheet of paper and information and gave my solemn word that the letter would be in the mail within 36 hours. (36 is twice 18 so that sounded good to my ears.)

Then I asked Jonathon, a young man of 20 or so, what he thought would be a good gift for an 18 year old. He looked at me and

then slowly answered, "I am no good at this. You see, I have never received a birthday gift." Suddenly I was at a loss for words.

How could any boy grow up without having received a birthday gift. He went on to explain, a bit haltingly, about single parents and hard times and he smiled and said that he thought any gift would be most welcome, but a gift card was always in order.

I thanked him and didn't know whether to hug him or wipe my eyes. Later on I checked his record (via the computer) and discovered that Jonathon's birthday was three weeks away. He would be 21.

And so the story comes to a conclusion. Well almost. Of course we went to the grandson's party and ate more cake than I should have consumed.

The candles were lit and the singing a bit off tune. And the gift cards were beautifully wrapped and we were thanked profusely.

Then I went back to the computer and looked up Jonathon's address so that I could send him a birthday card with a gift card enclosed. After all, books can always be appreciated and were better than socks or underwear.

And when Jonathon appeared at my classroom a few days later with a smile and a thank you, this time I didn't hold back and hugged him.

And I almost think that there was a tear in his eye. Or was it in mine?