FEBRUARY, 1943
Dearest Kitty,
Though its been ages since Ive written to you about the squabbles, theres still no change. In the begin ning Mr. Dussel took our soon-forgotten clashes very seriously, but now hes grown used to them and no longer tries to mediate.
Margot and Peter arent exactly what youd call "young"; theyre both so quiet and boring. Next to them, I stick out like a sore thumb, and Im always being told, "Margot and Peter dont act that way. Why dont you follow your sisters example!" I hate that.
I confess that I have absolutely no desire to be like Margot. Shes too weak-willed and passive to suit me; she lets herself be swayed by others and always backs down under pressure. I want to have more spunk! But I keep ideas like these to myself.
Theyd only laugh at me if I offered this in my defense.
During meals the air is filled with tension. Fortunately, the outbursts are sometimes held in check by the "soup eaters," the people from the office who come up to have a cup of soup for lunch.
This afternoon Mr. van Daan again brought up the fact that Margot eats so little. "I suppose you do it to keep your figure," he added in a mocking tone.
Mother, who always comes to Margots defense, said in a loud voice, "I cant stand that stupid chatter of yours a minute longer.”
Mrs. van D. turned red as a beet. Mr. van D. stared straight ahead and said nothing.
Still, we often have a good laugh. Not long ago Mrs. van D. was entertaining us with some bit of nonsense or another. She was talking about the past, about how well she got along with her father and what a flirt she was. "And you know," she continued, "my father told me that if a gentleman ever got fresh, I was to say, Remem ber, sir, that Im a lady, and hed know what I meant." We split our sides laughing, as if shed told us a good joke.
Even Peter, though hes usually quiet, occasionally gives rise to hilarity. He has the misfortune of adoring foreign words without knowing what they mean. One afternoon we couldnt use the toilet because there were visitors in the office. Unable to wait, he went to the bathroom but didnt flush the toilet. To warn us of the unpleasant odor, he tacked a sign to the bathroom door: "RSVP -- gas!" Of course, he meant "Danger -- gas!" but he thought "RSVP" looked more elegant. He didnt have the faintest idea that it meant "please reply.”
Yours, Anne
SATURDAY, FEBRUARY 27, 1943
Dearest Kitty,
Pim is expecting the invasion any day now. Churchill has had pneumonia, but is gradually getting better. Gandhi, the champion of Indian freedom, is on one of his umpteenth hunger strikes.
Mrs. van D. claims shes fatalistic. But whos the most afraid when the guns go off?
None other than Petronella van Daan.
Jan brought along the episcopal letter that the bishops addressed to their parishioners.
It was beautiful and inspiring. "People of the Netherlands, stand up and take action.
Each of us must choose our own weapons to fight for the freedom of our country, our people and our reli gion! Give your help and support. Act now!" This is what theyre preaching from the pulpit. Will it do any good? Its definitely too late to help our fellow Jews.
Guess whats happened to us now? The owner of the building sold it without informing Mr. Kugler and Mr. Kleiman. One morning the new landlord arrived with an architect to look the place over. Thank goodness Mr. Kleiman was in the office. He showed the gentlemen all there was to see, with the exception of the Secret Annex. He claimed hed left the key at home and the new owner asked no further questions. If only he doesnt come back demanding to see the Annex. In that case, well be in big trouble!
Father emptied a card file for Margot and me and filled it with index cards that are blank on one side. This is to become our reading file, in which Margot and I are supposed to note down the books weve read, the author and the date. Ive learned two new words: "brothel" and "coquette." Ive bought a separate notebook for new words.
Theres a new division of butter and margarine. Each person is to get their portion on their own plate. The distribution is very unfair. The van Daans, who always make breakfast for everyone, give themselves one and a half times more than they do us.
My parents are much too afraid of an argument to say anything, which is a shame, because I think people like that should always be given a taste of their own medicine.
Yours, Anne