安妮日记英文版_安妮·弗兰克-第50章
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ds of skin hide the opening。 the holes so small i can hardly imagine how a man could get in there； much less how a baby could e out。 its hard enough trying to get your index finger inside。 thats all there is； and yet it plays such an important role！
yours； anne
m。 frank
saturday； march 25； 1944
dearest kitty；
you never realize how much youve changed until after its happened。 ive changed quite drastically； everything about me is different： my opinions； ideas； critical outlook。
inwardly； outwardly； nothings the same。 and； i might safely add； since its true； ive changed for the better。 i once told you that； after years of being adored； it was hard for me to adjust to the harsh reality of grown…ups and rebukes。 but father and mother are largely to blame for my having to put up with so much。 at home they wanted me to enjoy life； which was fine； but here they shouldnt have encouraged me to agree with them and only shown me 〃their〃 side of all the quarrels and gossip。 it was a long time before i discovered the score was fifty…fifty。 i now know that many blunders have been mitted here； by young and old alike。 father and mothers biggest mistake in dealing with the van daans is that theyre never candid and friendly （admittedly； the friendliness might have to be feigned）。 above all； i want to keep the peace； and to neither quarrel nor gossip。 with father and margot thats not difficult； but it is with mother； which is why im glad she gives me an occasional rap on the knuckles。 you can win mr。 van daan to your side by agreeing with him； listening quietly； not saying much and most of all 。 。 。 responding to his teasing and his corny jokes with a joke of your own。 mrs。 van d。 can be won over by talking openly to her and admitting when youre wrong。 she also frankly admits her faults； of which she has many。 i know all too well that she doesnt think as badly of me as she did in the beginning。 and thats simply because im honest and tell people right to their faces what i think； even when its not very flattering。 i want to be honest； i think it gets you further and also makes you feel better about yourself。
yesterday mrs。 van d。 was talking about the rice we gave mr。 kleiman。 〃all we do is give； give； give。 but at a certain point i think that enough is enough。 if hed only take
the trouble； mr。 kleiman could scrounge up his own rice。 why should we give away all our supplies？ we need them just as badly。鈥�
〃no； mrs。 van daan；〃 i replied。 〃i dont agree with you。 mr。 kleiman may very well be able to get hold of a little rice； but he doesnt like having to worry about it。 its not our place to criticize the people who are helping us。 we should give them whatever they need if we can possibly spare it。 one less pl
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saturday； april 1； 1944
my dearest kitty；
and yet everything is still so difficult。 you do know what i mean； dont you？ i long so much for him to kiss me； but that kiss is taking its own sweet time。 does he still think of me as a friend？ dont i mean anything more？
you and i both know that im strong； that i can carry most burdens alone。 ive never been used to sharing my worries with anyone； and ive never clung to a mother； but id love to lay my head on his shoulder and just sit there quietly。
i cant； i simply cant forget that dream of peters cheek； when everything was so good！ does he have the same longing？ is he just too shy to say he loves me？ why does he want me near him so much？ oh； why doesnt he say something？
ive got to stop； ive got to be calm。 ill try to be strong again； and if im patient； the rest will follow。 but and this is the worst part i seem to be chasing him。 im always the one who has to go upstairs； he never es to me。 but thats because of
the rooms； and he understands why i object。 oh； im sure he understands more than i think 。
yours； anne
m。 frank
monday； april 3； 1944
my dearest kitty；
contrary to my usual practice； im going to write you a detailed description of the food situation； since its bee a matter of some difficulty and importance； not only here in the annex； but in all of holland； all of europe and even beyond。
in the twenty…one months weve lived here； weve been through a good many 〃food cycles〃 youll understand what that means in a moment。 a 〃food cycle〃 is a period in which we have only one particular dish or type of vegetable to eat。 for a long time we ate nothing but endive。 endive with sand； endive without sand； endive with mashed potatoes； endive…and…mashed potato casserole。 then it was spinach； followed by kohlrabi； salsify； cucumbers； tomatoes； sauerkraut； etc。； etc。
its not much fun when you have to eat； say； sauer… kraut every day for lunch and dinner； but when youre hungry enough； you do a lot of things。 now； however； were going through the most delightful period so far； because there are no vegetables at all。
our weekly lunch menu consists of brown beans； split…pea soup； potatoes with dumplings； potato kugel and； by the grace of god； turnip greens or rotten carrots； and then its back to brown beans。 because of the bread shortage； we eat potatoes at every meal； starting with breakfast； but then we fry them a little。 to make soup we use brown beans； navy beans； potatoes； packages of vege… table soup； packages of chicken soup and packages of bean soup。 there are brown beans in everything； including the bread。 for dinner we always have potatoes with imitation gravy and thank goodness weve still got it beet salad。 i must tell you about the dumplings。
we make them with government…issue flour； water and yeast。 theyre so gluey and tough that it feels as if you had rocks in your stomach； but oh well！
the high point is our weekly slice of liverwurst； and the jam on our unbuttered bread。
but were still alive； and much of the time it still tastes good too！
yours； anne
m。 frank
wednesday； april 5； 1944
my dearest kitty；
for a long time now i didnt know why i was bothering to do any schoolwork。 the end of the war still seemed so far away； so unreal； like a fairy tale。 if the war isnt over by september； i wont go back to school； since i dont want to be two years behind。
peter filled my days； nothing but peter； dreams and thoughts until saturday night； when i felt so utterly miserable； oh； it was awful。 i held back my tears when i was with peter； laughed uproariously with the van daans as we drank lemon punch and was cheerful and excited； but the minute i was alone i knew i was going to cry my eyes out。 i slid to the floor in my nightgown and began by saying my prayers； very fervently。 then i drew my knees to my chest； lay my head on my arms and cried； all huddled up on the bare floor。 a loud sob brought me back down to earth； and i choked back my tears； since i didnt want anyone next door to hear me。 then i tried to pull myself together； saying over and over； 〃i must； i must； i must。 。 。 〃 stiff from sitting in such an unusual position； i fell back against the side of the bed and kept up my struggle until just before ten…thirty； when i climbed back into bed。 it was over！
and now its really over。 i finally realized that i must do my schoolwork to keep from being ignorant； to get on in life； to bee a journalist； because thats what i want！ i know i can write。 a few of my stories are good； my descriptions of the secret annex are humorous； much of my diary is vivid and alive； but。 。 。 it remains to be seen whether i really have talent。
〃evas dream〃 is my best fairy tale； and the odd thing is that i dont have the faintest idea where it came from。 parts of 〃cadys life〃 are also good； but as a whole its nothing special。 im my best and harshest critic。 i know whats good and what isnt。
unless you write yourself； you cant know how wonderful it is； i always used to bemoan the fact that i couldnt draw； but now im overjoyed that at least i can write。
and if i dont have the talent to write books or newspaper articles； i can always write for myself。 but i want to achieve more than that。 i cant imagine having to live like mother； mrs。 van daan and all the women who go about their work and are then forgotten。 i need to have something besides a husband
