THURSDAY, APRIL 1, 1943
Dearest Kitty,
Im not really in the mood for pranks (see the date).
On the trary, today I safely quote the saying" Misfortunes never e singly.」
First, Mr. Kleiman, our merry sunshine, had another bout of gastroiinal hemierday and will have to stay in bed for at least three weeks. I should tell you that his stomach has been b him quite a bit, and theres no cure. Sed, Bep has the flu. Third, Mr. Voskuijl has to go to the hospital week.
He probably has an ulcer and will have to undergery. Fourth, the managers of Pomosin Industries came from Frankfurt to discuss the new Opekta deliveries. Father had gohe important points with Mr. Kleiman, and there wasnt enough time to give Mr. Kugler a thh briefing.
The gentlemen arrived from Frankfurt, and Father was already shaking at the thought of how the talks would go. "If only I could be there, if only I were downstairs," he exclaimed.
"Go lie down with your ear to the floor. Theyll be brought to the private office, and youll be able to hear everything. Fathers face cleared, aerday m at ten-thirty Margot and Pim (two ears are better thaook up their posts on the floor. By nooalks werent finished, but Father was in no shape to tinue his listen ing campaign. He was in agony from having to lie for hours in su unusual and unfortable position. At two-thirty we heard voices in the hall, and I took his place; Margot kept me pany. The versation was so long-winded and b that I suddenly fell asleep on the cold, hard linoleum. Margot didnt dare touch me for fear theyd hear us, and of course she couldnt shout. I slept food half hour and then awoke with a start,
having fotten every word of the important discussion. Luckily, Margot had paid more attention.
Yours, Anne
FRIDAY, APRIL 2, 1943
Dearest Kitty,
Oh my, aem has been added to my list of sins. Last night~ was lying in bed, waiting for Father to tuck me in an say my prayers with me, when Mother came into the room, sat on my bed and asked very gently, "Anne, Daddy isnt ready. How about if I listen to your prayers tonight?」
"No, Momsy," I replied.
Mot up, stood beside my bed for a moment and then slowly walked toward the door. Suddenly she turned, her face torted with pain, and said, "I dont want to be angry with you. I t make you love me!" A few tears slid down her cheeks as she went out the door.
I lay still, thinking how mean it was of me to reject her so cruelly, but I also khat I was incapable of answering her any other way. I t be a hypocrite and pray with her when I dont feel like it. It just doesnt work that way. I felt sorry for Mother -- very, very sorry -- because for the first time in my life I noticed she wasnt indifferent to my ess. I saw the sorrow in her face whealked about not being able to make me love her. Its hard to tell the truth, ahe truth is that shes the one whos rejected me. Shes the one whose tactless ents and cruel jokes about matters I dont think are funny have made me iive to any sign of love on her part. Just as my heart sinks every time I hear her harsh words, thats how her heart sank when she realized there was no more love between us.
She cried half the night and did any sleep. Father has avoided looking at me, and if his eyes do happen to ine, I read his unspoken words: "How you be so unkind? How dare you make your mother so sad!」
Everyone expects me to apologize, but this is not something I ap