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

Recommendations

Info

Dearest Kitty, To take our minds off matters as well as to develop them, Father ordered a catalog from a correspondence school. Margot pored through the thick brochure three times without finding anything to her liking and within her budget. Father was easier to satisfy and decided to write and ask for a trial lesson in "Elementary Latin." No sooner said than done. The lesson arrived, Margot set to work enthusiastically and decided to take the course, despite the expense. It's much too hard for me, though I'd really like to learn Latin. To give me a new project as well, Father asked Mr. Kleiman for a children's Bible so I could finally learn something about the New Testament. "Are you planning to give Anne a Bible for Hanukkah?" Margot asked, somewhat perturbed. "Yes. . . Well, maybe St. Nicholas Day would be a better occasion," Father replied. Jesus and Hanukkah don't exactly go together. Since the vacuum cleaner's broken, I have to take an old brush to the rug every night. The window's closed, the light's on, the stove's burning, and there I am brushing away at the rug. "That's sure to be a problem," I thought to myself the first time. "There're bound to be complaints." I was right: Mother got a headache from the thick clouds of dust whirling around the room, Margot's new Latin dictionary was caked with dirt, and rim grumbled that the floor didn't look any different anyway. Small thanks for my pains. We've decided that from now on the stove is going to be lit at seven-thirty on Sunday mornings instead of five-thirty. I think it's risky. What will the neighbors think of our smoking chimney? It's the same with the curtains. Ever since we first went into hiding, they've been tacked firmly to the windows. Sometimes one of the ladies or gentlemen can't resist the urge to peek outside. The result: a storm of reproaches. The response: "Oh, nobody will notice." That's how every act of carelessness begins and ends. No one will notice, no one will hear, no one will pay the least bit of attention. Easy to say, but is it true? At the moment, the tempestuous quarrels have subsided; only Dussel and the van Daans are still at loggerheads. When Dussel is talking about Mrs. van D., he invariably calls her' 'that old bat" or "that stupid hag," and conversely, Mrs. van D. refers to our ever so learned gentleman as an "old maid" or a "touchy neurotic spinster, etc. The pot calling the kettle black! Yours, Anne MONDAY EVENING, NOVEMBER 8,1943 Dearest Kitty, If you were to read all my letters in one sitting, you'd be struck by the fact that they were written in a variety of moods. It annoys me to be so dependent on the moods here in the Annex, but I'm not the only one: we're all subject to them.
If I'm engrossed in a book, I have to rearrange my thoughts before I can mingle with other people, because otherwise they might think I was strange. As you can see, I'm currently in the middle of a depression. I couldn't really tell you what set it off, but I think it stems from my cowardice, which confronts me at every turn. This evening, when Bep was still here, the doorbell rang long and loud. I instantly turned white, my stomach churned, and my heart beat wildly -- and all because I was afraid. At night in bed I see myself alone in a dungeon, without Father and Mother. Or I'm roaming the streets, or the Annex is on fire, or they come in the middle of the night to take us away and I crawl under my bed in desperation. I see everything as if it were actually taking place. And to think it might all happen soon! Miep often says she envies us because we have such peace and quiet here. That may be true, but she's obviously not thinking about our fear. I simply can't imagine the world will ever be normal again for us. I do talk about "after the war," but it's as if I were talking about a castle in the air, something that can Ii never come true. I see the ei ght of us in the Annex as if we were a patch of blue sky surrounded by menacing black clouds. The perfectly round spot on which we're standing is still safe, but the clouds are moving in on us, and the ring between us and the approaching danger is being pulled tighter and tighter. We're surrounded by darkness and danger, and in our desperate search for a way out we keep bumping into each other. We look at the fighting down below and the peace and beauty up above. In the meantime, we've been cut off by the dark mass of clouds, so that we can go neither up nor down. It looms before us like an impenetrable wall, trying to crush us, but not yet able to. I can only cry out and implore, "Oh, ring, ring, open wide and let us out!" Yours, Anne THURSDAY, NOVEMBER 11, 1943 Dearest Kitty, I have a good title for this chapter: Ode to My Fountain Pen In Memoriam My fountain pen was always one of my most prized possessions; I valued it highly, especially because it had a thick nib, and I can only write neatly with thick nibs. It has led a long and interesting fountain-pen life, which I will summarize below. When I was nine, my fountain pen (packed in cotton) arrived as a "sample of no commercial value" all the way from Aachen, where my grandmother (the kindly donor) used to live. I lay in bed with the flu, while the February winds howled around the apartment house. This splendid fountain pen came in a red leather case, and I showed it to my girlfriends the first chance I got. Me, Anne Frank, the proud owner of a fountain pen. When I was ten, I was allowed to take the pen to school, and to my surprise, the teacher even let me write with it. When I was eleven, however, my treasure had to be tucked away again, because my sixth-grade teacher allowed us to use only school pens and inkpots. When I was twelve, I started at the Jewish Lyceum and my
Page 1 and 2:
THE DIARY OF A YOUNG GIRL : THE DEF
Page 3 and 4:
In this edition, the helpers are no
Page 5 and 6:
Henny Mets is a nice girl with a ch
Page 7 and 8:
My father, the most adorable father
Page 9 and 10:
pages Mr. Keesing had assigned me a
Page 11 and 12:
"Now my grandmother wants me to see
Page 13 and 14:
Dearest Kitty, It seems like years
Page 15 and 16:
whom were told anything. Here's a d
Page 17 and 18:
on the radio. I was so scared someo
Page 19 and 20:
off the table. Suddenly I saw a not
Page 21 and 22:
You see, Mrs. van Daan, Mother Said
Page 23 and 24:
"Hey, Anne, can't I even take a pee
Page 25 and 26:
van Daans, especially Mrs. van Daan
Page 27 and 28: fishwife. It was a joy to behold. I
Page 29 and 30: Bye-bye, Anne SATURDAY, OCTOBER 3,
Page 31 and 32: murdered. The English radio says th
Page 33 and 34: fuse box was at the rear of the dar
Page 35 and 36: just a coincidence that Father and
Page 37 and 38: To provide ourselves with a source
Page 39 and 40: Dispossessed Persons Open all year
Page 41 and 42: I get frightened myself when I thin
Page 43 and 44: you. I received a Kewpie doll, Fath
Page 45 and 46: gone to fat from eating potatoes, d
Page 47 and 48: Everyone thinks I'm showing off whe
Page 49 and 50: Dearest Kitty, Mrs. van D. has a ne
Page 51 and 52: Our evening serving of bread has be
Page 53 and 54: office were neatly grouped around t
Page 55 and 56: about if I listen to your prayers t
Page 57 and 58: lived in such comfortable circumsta
Page 59 and 60: "We've got experience! Take it from
Page 61 and 62: 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: to have to part with her fur coat.
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 and 114: on the outside! Who will be the fir
Page 115 and 116: Yours, Anne M. Frank WEDNESDAY, MAR
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
Page 165 and 166:
us, but they're able to put the Ann
Page 167 and 168:
has a cold. Dussel caught with brew
Page 169 and 170:
with music and the other arts are m
Page 171 and 172:
struggled to keep my eyes open unti
Page 173 and 174:
The mood has changed, everything's
Page 175 and 176:
Yours, Anne M. Frank SATURDAY, JULY
Page 177 and 178:
But I've talked about these things
Page 179 and 180:
truth, the whole truth and nothing
Page 181 and 182:
Miep Santrouschitz Gies is still li
show all

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

Create successful ePaper yourself

Delete template?

Save as template?