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yours； anne
friday； january 28； 1944
dearest kitty；
in recent weeks ive developed a great liking for family trees and the genealogical tables of royal families。 ive e to the conclusion that once you begin your search； you have to keep digging deeper and deeper into the past； which leads you to even more interesting discoveries。
although im extremely diligent when it es to my schoolwork and can pretty much follow the bbc home service on the radio； i still spend many of my sundays sorting out and looking over my movie…star collection； which has grown to a very respectable size。 mr。 kugler makes me happy every monday by bringing me a copy of cinema & theater magazine。 the less worldly members of our household often refer to this small indulgence as a waste of money； yet they never fail to be surprised at how accurately i can list the actors in any given movie； even after a year。 bep； who often goes to the movies with her boyfriend on her day off； tells me on saturday the name of the show theyre going to see； and i then proceed to rattle off the names of the leading actors and actresses and the reviews。 moms recently remarked ； that i wouldnt need to go to the movies later on； because ！
i know all the plots； the names of the stars and the reviews by heart。
whenever i e sailing in with a new hairstyle； i i can read the disapproval on their faces； and i can be sure someone will ask which movie star im trying to imitate。 my reply； that its my own invention； is greeted with ~ skepticism。 as for the hairdo； it doesnt hold its set for ~ more than half an hour。 by that time im so sick and tired i of their remarks that i race to the bathroom and restore my hair to its normal mass of curls。
yours； anne
friday； january 28； 1944
dearest kitty；
this morning i was wondering whether you ever felt like a cow； having to chew my stale news over and over again until youre so fed up with the monotonous fare that you yawn and secretly wish anne would dig up something new。
sorry； i know you find it dull as ditchwater； but imagine how sick and tired i am of hearing the same old stuff。 if the talk at mealtime isnt about politics or good food； then mother or mrs。 van d。 trot out stories about their childhood that weve heard a thousand times before； or dussel goes on and on about beautiful racehorses； his charlottes extensive wardrobe； leaky rowboats； boys who can swim at the age of four； aching muscles and frightened patients。 it all boils down to this： whenever one of the eight of us opens his mouth； the other seven can finish the story for him。 we know the punch line of every joke before it gets told； so that whoevers telling it is left to laugh alone。 the various milkmen； grocers and butchers of the two former housewives have been praised to the skies or run into the ground so many times that in our imaginations theyve grown as old as methuselah； theres absolutely no chance of anything new or fresh being brought up for discussion in the annex。
still； all this might be bearable if only the grown…ups werent in the habit of repeating the stories we hear from mr。 kleiman； jan or miep； each time embellishing them with a few details of their own； so that i often have to pinch my arm under the table to keep myself from setting the enthusiastic storyteller on the right track。 little children； such as anne； must never； ever correct their elders； no matter how many blunders they make or how often they let their imaginations run away with them。
jan and mr。 kleiman love talking about people who have gone underground or into hiding； they know were eager to hear about others in our situation and that we truly sympathize with the sorrow of those whove been arrested as well as the joy of prisoners whove been freed。
going underground or into hiding has bee as routine as the proverbial pipe and slippers that used to await the man of the house after a long day at work。 there are many resistance groups； such as free netherlands； that forge identity cards； provide financial support to those in hiding； organize hiding places and find work for young christians who go underground。 its amazing how much these generous and unselfish
people do； risking their own lives to help and save others。
the best example of this is our own helpers； who have managed to pull us through so far and will hopefully bring us safely to shore； because otherwise theyll find themselves sharing the fate of those theyre trying to protect。 never have they uttered a single word about the burden we must be； never have they plained that were too much trouble。 they e upstairs every day and talk to the men about business and politics； to the women about food and wartime difficulties and to the children about books and newspapers。 they put on their most cheerful expressions； bring flowers and gifts for birthdays and holidays and are always ready to do what they can。
thats something we should never forget； while others display their heroism in battle or against the germans； our helpers prove theirs every day by their good spirits and affection。
the most bizarre stories are making the rounds； yet most of them are really true。 for instance； mr。 kleiman reported this week that a soccer match was held in the province of gelderland； one team consisted entirely of men who had gone underground； and the other of eleven military policemen。 in hilversum； new registration cards were issued。
in order for the many people in hiding to get their rations （you have to show this card to obtain your ration book or else pay 60 guilders a book）； the registrar asked all those hiding in that district to pick up their cards at a specified hour； when the documents could be collected at a separate table。
all the same； you have to be careful that stunts like these dont reach the ears of the germans。
yours； anne
sunday； january 30； 1944
my dearest kit； another sunday has rolled around； i dont mind them as much as i did in the beginning； but theyre boring enough。
i still havent gone to the warehouse yet； but maybe sometime soon。 last night i went downstairs in the dark； all by myself； after having been there with father a few nights before。 i stood at the top of the stairs while german planes flew back and forth； and i knew i was on my own； that i couldnt count on others for support。 my fear vanished。
i looked up at the sky and trusted in god。
i have an intense need to be alone。 father has noticed im not my usual self； but i cant tell him whats bothering me。 all i want to do is scream 〃let me be； leave me alone！”
who knows； perhaps the day will e when im left alone more than id like！
anne frank
……
FEBRUARY； 1944
！
thursday； february 3； 1944
dearest kitty；
invasion fever is mounting daily throughout the country。 if you were here； im sure youd be as impressed as i am at the many preparations； though youd no doubt laugh at all the fuss were making。 who knows； it may all be for nothing！
the papers are full of invasion news and are driving everyone insane with such statements as： 〃in the event of a british landing in holland； the germans will do what they can to defend the country； even flooding it； if necessary。〃 theyve published maps of holland with the potential flood areas marked。 since large portions of amsterdam were shaded in； our first question was what we should do if the water in the streets rose to above our waists。 this tricky question elicited a variety of responses：
〃itll be impossible to walk or ride a bike； so well have to wade through the water。”
〃dont be silly。 well have to try and swim。 well all put on our bathing suits and caps and swim underwater as much as we can； so nobody can see were jews。”
〃oh； baloney！ i can just imagine the ladies swimming with the rats biting their legs！”
（that was a man； of course； well see who screams loudest！）
〃we wont even be able to leave the house。 the warehouse is so unstable itll collapse if theres a flood。”
〃listen； everyone； all joking aside； we really ought to try and get a boat。”
〃why bother？ i have a better idea。 we can each take a packing crate from the attic and row with a wooden spoon。”
〃im going to walk on stilts。 i used to be a whiz at it when i was