WHAT AM I supposed to write," Joe asked, uncharacteristically at a loss for words.

" 'Thank you' is one place to start," I answered, annoyed. How many times have we had this conversation?

"Yeah, but what after that."

"Mention the gift," I said, huffily. "You're 15. You know this stuff. Get busy."

"But what if the gift was money?"

"Then mention how you intend to spend it."

"Am I supposed to tell people who came to church for my confirmation that I am going out and spending their gift on a new barrel for my paint-ball gun? That won't sound good. They'll think you are a bad parent."

"If you don't write a thank-you note, they will think you are an ungrateful kid."

"Can I say the same thing in every note? What if they compare them and see that I wrote the same thing? If I write them, will you address them? How many do I have to do today?"

Writing thank-you notes, along with not wearing your baseball cap in the house, not jamming huge chunks of food into your gaping mouth and not greeting a telephone caller with a grunt, is a great pain for teen-aged boys. They don't see the point. Using manners makes them feel as if they are wearing a scratchy wool suit.

But writing thank-you notes for gifts may be the most irritating request we make of them. It is something you must sit down and do. You have to have the proper materials. You have to think about what to say. There are usually a number of them to do.

Other manners can be executed quickly. The opening of a door, the suppression of a burp. Or more likely, repented of with a blunt apology: "Oh. Sorry." But thank-you notes hang over a young head until they are done, or until the mother gives up.

Thank-you notes are a great pain for the doer and the enforcer and, though I am sure the receiver is delighted and draws optimistic conclusions about the character of the young writer and the reverence for old values evident in the writer's mother, I fear something crucial is lost in this transaction: the relationship between generosity and gratitude.

"The purpose of a thank-you letter is not only, as some people seem to believe, to force a payment in labor in exchange for a present, but to allow the giver to know that his generosity has been appreciated," writes Judith Martin, in her book "Miss Manner's Guide to Rearing Perfect Children."

"This, unfortunately, does not come naturally. Left to their own meager devices children or anyone else will accept all kinds of offerings as no more than their due without the least thought of expressing genuine pleasure in them, much less simulating pleasure when there is none as a way of showing appreciation for the spirit of the giver, if not for the item chosen."

Thank-you notes from children go a long way toward smoothing away the impression that all they care about is themselves, but it does nothing to change the fact that all they care about is themselves.

You can purchase colorful paper, stamps and markers and engender the thank-you note habit at a very young age. You can tell reluctant older children that they may not play the video game or spend the money until the thank-you note for it is written. You can be a role model and write your own thank-you notes in full view of the family.

You can explain that the thank-you note is the flip side of gift-giving to mark an occasion, and that both are expected behaviors and social graces and the duty of members of a family or a community.

You can tell your child that gift-giving that goes unacknowledged might cease altogether.

But it is much more difficult to bring a child to the place where they are genuinely touched by the expression of love that the gift often represents.

Our anger won't do it. Even if we are sure our children have no sense of how lucky they are, we certainly can't scold them until they do. Our harsh lectures will make them feel angry, defensive or resentful -- but not grateful.

What are we left with? The example of our own gratitude toward them. Most often, we bark at our kids for all the things they do not do when a gushy thank-you for their contributions to the commonweal or their expressions of unselfishness would better serve to re-enforce that behavior in them.

Our commentary on the unselfish behavior of others -- neutral because it does not reflect on their own shortcomings -- can illustrate for our kids what we mean by generosity and gratitude. Those are big, vague words, after all.

At my house, four thank-you notes were written and the confirmation gifts they represented were burning a hole in Joe's pocket. We made a therapeutic trip to the mall where he purchased a video game and a new shirt for himself.

And he purchased a birthday gift for his little sister that would shock her with its lavishness.

Will she write him a thank-you note? Only if I nag her and scold her and tell her she can't use it until she does.

Will any of his thank-you notes say, "Thank you for your gift at my confirmation. I used it to buy a birthday present for my sister. It said what I can't find a way to say -- something about how much I guess I really do care for her and about how good it feels to give something to someone else, especially when you could really use a new barrel for your paint-ball gun."

I doubt that his thank-you note will say all that. Too many words.

Pub Date: 3/23/99