Dearest Kitty,
Im not really in the mood for pranks (see the date).
On the contrary, today I can safely quote the saying" Misfortunes never come singly.”
First, Mr. Kleiman, our merry sunshine, had another bout of gastrointestinal hemorrhaging yesterday and will have to stay in bed for at least three weeks. I should tell you that his stomach has been bothering him quite a bit, and theres no cure. Second, Bep has the flu. Third, Mr. Voskuijl has to go to the hospital next week.
He probably has an ulcer and will have to undergo surgery. Fourth, the managers of Pomosin Industries came from Frankfurt to discuss the new Opekta deliveries. Father had gone yer the important points with Mr. Kleiman, and there wasnt enough time to give Mr. Kugler a thor ough 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, and yesterday morning at ten-thirty Margot and Pim (two ears are better than one) took up their posts on the floor. By noon the talks werent finished, but Father was in no shape to continue his listen ing campaign. He was in agony from having to lie for hours in such an unusual and uncomfortable position. At two-thirty we heard voices in the hall, and I took his place; Margot kept me company. The conversation was so long-winded and boring 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 for a good half hour and then awoke with a start,
having forgotten every word of the important discussion. Luckily, Margot had paid more attention.
Yours, Anne
FRIDAY, APRIL 2, 1943
Dearest Kitty,
Oh my, another item 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.
Mother got up, stood beside my bed for a moment and then slowly walked toward the door. Suddenly she turned, her face contorted with pain, and said, "I dont want to be angry with you. I cant 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 knew that I was incapable of answering her any other way. I cant 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 coldness. I saw the sorrow in her face when she talked about not being able to make me love her. Its hard to tell the truth, and yet the truth is that shes the one whos rejected me. Shes the one whose tactless comments and cruel jokes about matters I dont think are funny have made me insensitive 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 didnt get any sleep. Father has avoided looking at me, and if his eyes do happen to cross mine, I can read his unspoken words: "How can you be so unkind? How dare you make your mother so sad!”
Everyone expects me to apologize, but this is not something I can apologize for, because I told the truth, and sooner or later Mothjr was bound to find out anyway. I seem to be indifferent to Mothers tears and Fathers glances, and I am, because both of them are now feeling what Ive always felt. I can only feel sorry for Mother, who will have to figure out what her attitude should be all by herself. For my part, I will
continue to remain silent and aloof, and I dont intend to shrink from the truth, because the longer its postponed, the harder it will be for them to accept it when they do hear it!
Yours, Anne
TUESDAY, APRIL 27, 1943
Dearest Kitty,
The house is still trembling from the aftereffects of the quarrels. Everyone is mad at everyone else: Mother and I, Mr. van Daan and Father, Mother and Mrs. van D.
Terrific atmosphere, dont you think? Once again Annes usual list of shortcomings has been extensively aired.
Our German visitors were back last Saturday. They stayed until six. We all sat upstairs, not daring to move an inch. If theres no one else working in the building or in the neighborhood, you can hear every single step in the private office. Ive got ants in my pants again from having to sit still so long.
Mr. Voskuijl has been hospitalized, but Mr. Kleimans back at the office. His stomach stopped bleeding sooner than it normally does. He told us that the County Clerks Office took an extra beating because the firemen flooded the entire building instead of just putting out the fire. That does my heart good!
The Carlton Hotel has been destroyed. Two British planes loaded with firebombs landed right on top of the German Officers Club. The entire corner of Vijzelstraat and Singel has gone up in flames. The number of air strikes on German cities is increasing daily. We havent had a good nights rest in ages, and I have bags under my eyes from lack of sleep.
Our food is terrible. Breakfast consists of plain, unbuttered brea and ersatz coffee. For the last two weeks lunch has been e. spinach or cooked lettuce with huge potatoes that have a rotten, sweetish taste. If youre trying to diet, the Annex is the place to be! Upstairs they complain bitterly, but we dont think its such a tragedy.
All the Dutch men who either fought or were mobilized in 1940 have been called up to work in prisoner-of-war camps. I bet theyre taking this precaution because of the invasion!
Yours, Anne