Patrick is only a few weeks old and is named after St Patrick - on whose day he was found, wrapped in a shirt, left on a doorstep. His young mother had given birth to him alone and then waited for her parents to be asleep before slipping out of the house and abandoning her baby to God, luck and Christian charity.

So much for the permissive society.

This is the age of the morning after pill dished out by school nurses, of instant sex and gratification, when children are bombarded by sexual messages from television, from adverts, even from comics aimed specifically at them. It's an age when putting condoms on cucumbers is part of school timetables and when stupid women in their twenties fight over the dubious honour of being Britain's Youngest Grandmother.

We assume that teenagers have sex lives and barely raise an eyebrow over mothers as young as 14 or 15. There is no stigma in single motherhood, no blame, no shame.

Then there's baby Patrick.

His mother has now written four letters to the people who found her baby, thanking them for looking after him. They are unbearably poignant. " I am not a bad person. I cannot tell anyone because no one understands. Please forgive me," She writes in one of the notes.

It is a cry that echoes right back down the ages, for every unlucky, abandoned girl, desperate to put the clock back, torn between love of her baby and shame for his birth.

And when we think that society has changed irrevocably we should recall Patrick's mother and realise that no, it hasn't changed, not completely not for everyone.

And then hope that she and her baby can both go on to make something of their lives.

IS THERE a new sneaky sort of racism invading Coronation Street?

One of the striking characteristics about many American teen programmes is that although they have a terribly correct ethnic mix, they are careful not to cross the race divide. All creeds and colours may be the very best of friends but when it comes to love and sex there is an unofficial apartheid. The black girl dates the black boy. The Hispanic date the Hispanic and the closest you get to integration is when the blonde Anglo Saxon dates the brunette Anglo Saxon.

The American sit com where the black guy gets the blonde is seriously unusual.

And now Corrie's going the same way.

As it is, it has only a handful of non-white characters - that is if you don't count the black bloke always in the back of the bar or cycling briefly down the cobbles. And now they're all paired off with each other. Vik with Bobbie, the gorgeous Dev with the probably white but dark-skinned Geena.

Maybe co-incidental, but it all looks a bit American to me.

Time to get that black bloke off his bike and out on the razz with Toyah.

ARMY field trials to see if women were fit enough for front line infantry units were made too easy, says a report by a senior army officer.

Quite likely.

But wasn't there a similar report some years ago, saying that standards had to be lowered for the men? Modern young lads, I seem to remember, could not only not cope with the challenging standards of fitness needed in the army, but - after years of wearing soft and squashy trainers - they couldn't even cope with wearing army boots. It's not just young women who aren't as fit as they could be.

Some women will be tough enough for front line fighting, just as some men won't be. Time to start looking at individuals and not just gender.

HO, ho, ho. Ellen Fein is getting divorced. I know we shouldn't laugh at others' misfortunes, but she's the one who wrote The Rules - a ridiculous book on how to get and keep a husband. It had a lot to do, I seem to remember, with plastic surgery, being subservient and not trying to seem too clever . Being girly didn't work. Time for Miss Fein to change The Rules.

SUE Townsend, creator of Adrian Mole, has gone blind. Among the many confusions and regrets, she says: "I'm never going to see an individual snowdrop again. Have you ever looked at one properly?"

There are still many in full bloom. Look at them now and be thankful.

RIGHT, get your trainers on. On Sunday, April 8, there is a fun run/jog/walk or possibly even a very gentle stroll in Mowbray Park, Sunderland, to raise money for and awareness of the charity Ovacome.

Don't know what that is? It's the Ovarian Cancer Support Network. Unlike breast cancer or cervical cancer, there is no early test to spot ovarian cancer, so many women don't realise they have it until it's already well advanced.

The support group in this region has members all over the place - from Berwick down to North Yorkshire and across to Teesside - and, being a civilised crowd, they meet regularly for coffee or lunch.

Minimum entry for the day is £3. Definitely a good cause.

To register for the day, or to find out more about the group and its activities, call 0191-387 5363 or 0191-410 3035.

To find out more nationally about Ovacome, which is based at St Bartholomew's Hospital, tel 07071 781861 or try their website, www.ovacome.org.uk

'THANK you for my Mother's Day card," said my mother. "It's not as nice as last year's."

You know where you are with mothers.