WEDNESDAY, NOVEMBER 3, 1943
Dearest Kitty,
To take our minds off matters as well as to develop them, Father ordered a catalog from a correspondence sargot 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 dohe lesson arrived, Margot set to work enthusiastically and decided to take the course, despite the expes much too hard for me, though Id really like to learn Latin.
To give me a new project as well, Father asked Mr. Kleiman for a childrens Bible so I could finally learn something about the estament.
"Are you planning to give Anne a Bible for Hanukkah?" Margot asked, someerturbed.
"Yes. . . Well, maybe St. Nicholas Day would be a better occasion," Father replied.
Jesus and Hanukkah doly go together.
Sihe vacuum ers broken, I have to take an old brush to the rug every night.
The windows closed, the lights on, the stoves burning, and there I am brushing away at the rug. "Thats sure to be a problem," I thought to myself the first time. "Therere bound to be plaints." I was right: Mot a headache from the thick clouds of dust whirling around the room, Margots new Latin diary was caked with dirt, and rim grumbled that the floor didnt look any different anyway. Small thanks for my pains.
Weve decided that from now oove is going to be lit at seven-thirty on Sunday ms instead of five-thirty. I think its risky. What will the neighbors think of our smoking ey?
Its the same with the curtains. Ever since we first went into hiding, theyve been tacked firmly to the windows. Sometimes one of the ladies entlemen t resist the urge to peek outside. The result: a storm of reproaches. The response: "Oh, nobody will notice." Thats how every act of carelessness begins and ends. No one will notio 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 versely, Mrs. van D. refers to our ever so learned gentleman as an "old maid" or a "toueurotic 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 iting, youd be struck by the fact that they were written in a variety of moods. It annoys me to be so depe on the moods here in the Annex, but Im not the only one: were all subject to them. If Im engrossed in a book, I have to rearrange my thoughts before I mih other people, because otherwise they might think I was strange. As you see, Im currently in the middle of a depression. I couldnt really tell you what set it off, but I think it stems from my cowardice, which fronts me at every turn. This evening, when Bep was still here, the doorbell rang long and loud. I instantly turned white, my stomach ed, 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 Im roaming the streets, or the Annex is on fire, or they e 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 migh