THE DIARY OF A YOUNG GIRL : THE DEFINITIVE EDITION ... - Fidele

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In spite of everything, I wasn't altogether happy in 1942; I often felt I'd been deserted, but because I was on the go all day long, I didn't think about it. I enjoyed myself as much as I could, trying consciously or unconsciously to fill the void with jokes. Looking back, I realize that this period of my life has irrevocably come to a close; my happy-go-lucky, carefree schooldays are gone forever. I don't even miss them. I've outgrown them. I can no longer just kid around, since my serious side is always there. I see my life up to New Year's 1944 as if I were looking through a powerful magnifying glass. When I was at home, my life was filled with sunshine. Then, in the middle of 1942, everything changed overnight. The quarrels, the accusations -- I couldn't take it all in. I was caught off guard, and the only way I knew to keep my bearings was to talk back. The first half of 1943 brought crying spells, loneliness and the gradual realization of my faults and short- comings, which were numerous and seemed even more so. I filled the day with chatter, tried to draw Pim closer to me and failed. This left me on my own to face the difficult task of improving myself so I wouldn't have to hear their reproaches, because they made me so despondent. The second half of the year was slightly better. I became a teenager, and was treated more like a grown-up. I began to think about things and to write stories, finally coming to the conclusion that the others no longer had anything to do with me. They had no right to swing me back and forth like a pendulum on a clock. I wanted to change myself in my own way. I realized I could man- age without my mother, completely and totally, and that hurt. But what affected me even more was the realization that I was never going to be able to confide in Father. I didn't trust anyone but myself. After New Year's the second big change occurred: my dream, through which I discovered my longing for . . . a boy; not for a girlfriend, but for a boyfriend. I also discovered an inner happiness underneath my superficial and cheerful exterior. From time to time I was quiet. Now I live only for Peter, since what happens to me in the future depends largely on him! I lie in bed at night, after ending my prayers with the words "Ich Janke air fur all das Cute una Liebe una Schone,"* [* Thank you, God, for all that is good and dear and beautiful.] and I'm filled with joy. I think of going into hiding, my health and my whole being as das Cute; Peter's love (which is still so new and fragile and which neither of us dares to say aloud), the future, happiness and love as das Liebe; the world, nature and the tremendous beauty of everything, all that splendor, as das Schone. At such moments I don't think about all the misery, but about the beauty that still remains. This is where Mother and I differ greatly. Her advice in the face of melancholy is: "Think about all the suffering in the world and be thankful you're not part of it." My advice is: "Go outside, to the country, enjoy the sun and all nature has to offer. Go outside and try to recapture the happiness within yourself; think of all the beauty in yourself and in everything around you and be happy." I don't think Mother's advice can be right, because what are you supposed to do if you become part of the suffering? You'd be completely lost. On the contrary, beauty remains, even in misfortune. If you just look for it, you discover more and more happiness and regain your balance. A person who's happy will make others happy; a person who has courage and faith will never die in misery!
Yours, Anne M. Frank WEDNESDAY, MARCH 8, 1944 Margot and I have been writing each other notes, just for fun, of course. Anne: It's strange, but I can only remember the day after what has happened the night before. For example, I suddenly remembered that Mr. Dussel was snoring loudly last night. (It's now quarter to three on Wednesday afternoon and Mr. Dussel is snoring again, which is why it flashed through my mind, of course.) When I had to use the potty, I deliberately made more noise to get the snoring to stop. Margot: Which is better, the snoring or the gasping for air? Anne: The snoring's better, because it stops when I make noise, without waking the person in question. What I didn't write to Margot, but what I'll confess to you, dear Kitty, is that I've been dreaming of Peter a great deal. The night before last I dreamed I was skating right here in our living room with that little boy from the Apollo iceskating rink; he was with his sister, the girl with the spindly legs who always wore the same blue dress. I introduced myself, overdoing it a bit, and asked him his name. It was Peter. In my dream I wondered just how many Peters I actually knew! Then I dreamed we were standing in Peter's room, facing each other beside the stairs. I said something to him; he gave me a kiss, but replied that he didn't love me all that much and that I shouldn't flirt. In a desperate and pleading voice I said, "I'm not flirting, Peter!" When I woke up, I was glad Peter hasn't said it after all. Last night I dreamed we were kissing each other, but Peter's cheeks were very disappointing: they weren't as soft as they looked. They were more like Father's cheeks -- the cheeks of a man who already shaves. FRIDAY, MARCH 10, 1944 My dearest Kitty, The proverb "Misfortunes never come singly" defi- nitely applies to today. Peter just got through saying it. Let me tell you all the awful things that have happened and that are still hanging over our heads. First, Miep is sick, as a result of Henk and Aagje's wedding yesterday. She caught cold in the Westerkerk, where the service was held. Second, Mr. Kleiman hasn't returned to work since the last time his stomach started bleeding, so Bep's been left to hold down the fort alone. Third, the police have arrested a man (whose name I won't put in writing). It's terrible not only for him, but for us as well, since he's been supplying us with potatoes, butter and jam. Mr. M., as I'll call him, has five children under the age of thirteen, and another on the way. Last night we had another little scare: we were in the middle of dinner when suddenly someone knocked on the wall next door. For the rest of the evening we were nervous and gloomy.
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THE DIARY OF A YOUNG GIRL : THE DEF
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In this edition, the helpers are no
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Henny Mets is a nice girl with a ch
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My father, the most adorable father
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pages Mr. Keesing had assigned me a
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"Now my grandmother wants me to see
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Dearest Kitty, It seems like years
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whom were told anything. Here's a d
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on the radio. I was so scared someo
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off the table. Suddenly I saw a not
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You see, Mrs. van Daan, Mother Said
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"Hey, Anne, can't I even take a pee
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van Daans, especially Mrs. van Daan
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fishwife. It was a joy to behold. I
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Bye-bye, Anne SATURDAY, OCTOBER 3,
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murdered. The English radio says th
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fuse box was at the rear of the dar
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just a coincidence that Father and
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To provide ourselves with a source
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Dispossessed Persons Open all year
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I get frightened myself when I thin
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you. I received a Kewpie doll, Fath
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gone to fat from eating potatoes, d
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Everyone thinks I'm showing off whe
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Dearest Kitty, Mrs. van D. has a ne
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Our evening serving of bread has be
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office were neatly grouped around t
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about if I listen to your prayers t
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lived in such comfortable circumsta
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"We've got experience! Take it from
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someone who's cooped up. Our only d
Page 63 and 64: of sugar, our entire allotment. It
Page 65 and 66: and the hope that the war will be o
Page 67 and 68: kept during the day. In the next ro
Page 69 and 70: look at him long, because the time
Page 71 and 72: Everywhere I go, upstairs or down,
Page 73 and 74: Five-thirty. Bep's arrival signals
Page 75 and 76: eing too optimistic. The British ha
Page 77 and 78: to have to part with her fur coat.
Page 79 and 80: If I'm engrossed in a book, I have
Page 81 and 82: the occasion, but Mrs. van Daan, wh
Page 83 and 84: Most of the time the tickle refused
Page 85 and 86: us. Anne WEDNESDAY, DECEMBER 29, 19
Page 87 and 88: keep a secret, no matter what happe
Page 89 and 90: It's funny, but I often have such v
Page 91 and 92: I think Mother believes that Margot
Page 93 and 94: I think it's horrible that you can'
Page 95 and 96: time he'd finished, I felt so much
Page 97 and 98: unselfish people do, risking their
Page 99 and 100: Our provisions are holding out fair
Page 101 and 102: Dearest Kitty, The sun is shining,
Page 103 and 104: "I did my best, but I couldn't find
Page 105 and 106: It's Saturday again, and that shoul
Page 107 and 108: P.S. Thoughts: To Peter. We've been
Page 109 and 110: P.S. We'd be delighted if you could
Page 111 and 112: Yours, Anne M. Frank FRIDAY, MARCH
Page 113: on the outside! Who will be the fir
Page 117 and 118: Yesterday afternoon I was so worn o
Page 119 and 120: with green peas, yesterday he had t
Page 121 and 122: I've told you more about myself and
Page 123 and 124: That was the nicest thing he said a
Page 125 and 126: However, as you wrote, I do think o
Page 127 and 128: could understand how he must have f
Page 129 and 130: you further and also makes you feel
Page 131 and 132: Yours, Anne TUESDAY, MARCH 28, 1944
Page 133 and 134: oard, the police, the officials-the
Page 135 and 136: Peter filled my days, nothing but P
Page 137 and 138: "That sounds fishy," I said to Marg
Page 139 and 140: comforted Mrs. van Daan, who was ve
Page 141 and 142: "We've been saved, keep on saving u
Page 143 and 144: drooling. Miep immediately picked h
Page 145 and 146: sounds of a break-in again. It must
Page 147 and 148: celebrate your birthday when you've
Page 149 and 150: questions and laughter. I have to a
Page 151 and 152: Yours, Anne M. Frank WEDNESDAY, MAY
Page 153 and 154: Dearest Kitty, Last night before di
Page 155 and 156: Miep drank ten schnapps and smoked
Page 157 and 158: Poor Mouschi! How were you to know
Page 159 and 160: And now something else. You've know
Page 161 and 162: Mr. Frank. Is learning English (Dic
Page 163 and 164: circles where once it would have be
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us, but they're able to put the Ann
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has a cold. Dussel caught with brew
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with music and the other arts are m
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struggled to keep my eyes open unti
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The mood has changed, everything's
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Yours, Anne M. Frank SATURDAY, JULY
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But I've talked about these things
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truth, the whole truth and nothing
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Miep Santrouschitz Gies is still li
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THE DIARY OF A YOUNG GIRL : THE DEFINITIVE EDITION ... - Fidele

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