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

oard, the police, the officials-they're all either helping their fellow citizens
or denouncing them and sending them off to prison. Fortunately, only a small
percentage of Dutch people are on the wrong side.
Yours, Anne
FRIDAY, MARCH 31, 1944
Dearest Kitty,
Just imagine, it's still fairly cold, and yet most people have been without coal
for nearly a month. Sounds awful, doesn't it? There's a general mood of optimism
about the Russian front, because that's going great guns! I don't often write
about the political situation, but I must tell you where the Russians are at the
moment. They've reached the Polish border and the Prut River in Romania. They're
close to Odessa, and they've surrounded Ternopol. Every night we're expecting an
extra communique from Stalin.
They're firing off so many salutes in Moscow, the city must be rumbling and
shaking all day long. Whether they like to pretend the fighting's nearby or they
simply don't have any other way to express their joy, I don't know!
Hungary has been occupied by German troops.
There are still a million Jews living there; they too are doomed.
Nothing special is happening here. Today is Mr. van Daan's birthday. He received
two packets of tobacco, one serving of coffee, which his wife had managed to save,
lemon punch from Mr. Kugler, sardines from Miep, eau de cologne from us, lilacs,
tulips and, last but not least, a cake with raspberry filling, slightly gluey
because of the poor quality of the flour and the lack of butter, but deli- cious
anyway.
All that talk about Peter and me has died down a bit. He's coming to pick me up
tonight. Pretty nice of him, don't you think, since he hates doing it! We're very
good friends. We spend a lot of time together and talk about every imaginable
subject. It's so nice not having to hold back when we come to a delicate topic,
the way I would with other boys. For example, we were talking about blood and
somehow the conversation turned to menstruation, etc. He thinks we women are quite
tough to be able to withstand the loss of blood, and that I am too. I wonder why?
My life here has gotten better, much better. God has not forsaken me, and He never
will.
Yours, Anne M. Frank
SATURDAY, APRIL 1, 1944
My dearest Kitty,
And yet everything is still so difficult. You do know what I mean, don't you? I
long so much for him to kiss me, but that kiss is taking its own sweet time. Does
he still think of me as a friend? Don't I mean anything more?
You and I both know that I'm strong, that I can carry most burdens alone. I've
never been used to sharing my worries with anyone, and I've never clung to a
mother, but I'd love to lay my head on his shoulder and just sit there quietly.