安妮日记英文版_安妮·弗兰克-第3部分

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y　one　true　friend。　all　i　think　about　when　im　with　friends　is　having　a　good　time。　i　cant　bring　myself　to　talk　about　anything　but　ordinary

everyday　things。　we　dont　seem　to　be　able　to　get　any　closer；　and　thats　the　problem。

maybe　its　my　fault　that　we　dont　confide　in　each　other。　in　any　case；　thats　just　how　things　are；　and　unfortunately　theyre　not　liable　to　change。　this　is　why　ive　started　the　diary。

to　enhance　the　image　of　this　long…awaited　friend　in　my　imagination；　i　dont　want　to　jot　down　the　facts　in　this　diary　the　way　most　people　would　do；　but　i　want　the　diary　to　be　my　friend；　and　im　going　to　call　this　friend　kitty。

since　no　one　would　understand　a　word　of　my　stories　to　kitty　if　i　were　to　plunge　right　in；　id　better　provide　a　brief　sketch　of　my　life；　much　as　i　dislike　doing　so。

my　father；　the　most　adorable　father　ive　ever　seen；　didnt　marry　my　mother　until　he　was　thirty…six　and　she　was　twenty…five。　my　sister　margot　was　born　in　frankfurt　am　main　in　germany　in　1926。　i　was　born　on　june　12；　1929。　i　lived　in　frankfurt　until　i　was　four。　because　were　jewish；　my　father　immigrated　to　holland　in　1933；　when　he　became　the　managing　director　of　the　dutch　opekta　pany；　which　manufactures　products　used　in　making　jam。　my　mother；　edith　hollander　frank；　went　with　him　to　holland　in　september；　while　margot　and　i　were　sent　to　aachen　to　stay　with　our　grandmother。　margot　went　to　holland　in　december；　and　i　followed　in　february；　when　i　was　plunked　down　on　the　table　as　a　birthday　present　for　margot。

i　started　right　away　at　the　montessori　nursery　school。　i　stayed　there　until　i　was　six；　at　which　time　i　started　first　grade。　in　sixth　grade　my　teacher　was　mrs。　kuperus；　the　principal。　at　the　end　of　the　year　we　were　both　in　tears　as　we　said　a　heartbreaking　farewell；　because　id　been　accepted　at　the　jewish　lyceum；　where　margot　also　went　to　school。

our　lives　were　not　without　anxiety；　since　our　relatives　in　germany　were　suffering　under　hitlers　anti…jewish　laws。　after　the　pogroms　in　1938　my　two　uncles　（my　mothers　brothers）　fled　germany；　finding　safe　refuge　in　north　america。　my　elderly　grandmother　came　to　live　with　us。　she　was　seventy…three　years　old　at　the　time。

after　may　1940　the　good　times　were　few　and　far　between：　first　there　was　the　war；　then　the　capitulation　and　then　the　arrival　of　the　germans；　which　is　when　the　trouble　started　for　the　jews。　our　freedom　was　severely　restricted　by　a　series　of　anti…jewish　decrees：　jews　were　required　to　wear　a　yellow　star；　jews　were　required　to　turn　in　their　bicycles；　jews　were　forbidden　to　use　street…cars；　jews　were　forbidden　to　ride　in　cars；　even　their　own；　jews　were　required　to　do　their　shopping　between　3　and　5　p。m。；

jews　were　required　to　frequent　only　jewish…owned　barbershops　and　beauty　parlors；

jews　were　forbidden　to　be　out　on　the　streets　between　8　p。m。　and　6　a。m。；　jews　were

forbidden　to　attend　theaters；　movies　or　any　other　forms　of　entertainment；　jews　were　forbidden　to　use　swimming　pools；　tennis　courts；　hockey　fields　or　any　other　athletic　fields；　jews　were　forbidden　to　go　rowing；　jews　were　forbidden　to　take　part　in　any　athletic　activity　in　public；　jews　were　forbidden　to　sit　in　their　gardens　or　those　of　their　friends　after　8　p。m。；　jews　were　forbidden　to　visit　christians　in　their　homes；　jews　were　required　to　attend　jewish　schools；　etc。　you　couldnt　do　this　and　you　couldnt　do　that；　but　life　went　on。　jacque　always　said　to　me；　〃i　dont　dare　do　anything　anymore；　cause　im　afraid　its　not　allowed。鈥�

in　the　summer　of　1941　grandma　got　sick　and　had　to　have　an　operation；　so　my　birthday　passed　with　little　celebration。　in　the　summer　of　1940　we　didnt　do　much　for　my　birthday　either；　since　the　fighting　had　just　ended　in　holland。　grandma　died　in　january　1942。　no　one　knows　how　often　i　think　of　her　and　still　love　her。　this　birthday　celebration　in　1942　was　intended　to　make　up　for　the　others；　and　grandmas　candle　was　lit　along　with　the　rest。

the　four　of　us　are　still　doing　well；　and　that　brings　me　to　the　present　date　of　june　20；　1942；　and　the　solemn　dedication　of　my　diary。

saturday；　june　20；　1942

dearest　kitty！　let　me　get　started　right　away；　its　nice　and　quiet　now。　father　and　mother　are　out　and　margot　has　gone　to　play　ping…pong　with　some　other　young　people　at　her　friend　treess。　ive　been　playing　a　lot　of　ping…pong　myself　lately。　so　much　that　five　of　us　girls　have　formed　a　club。　its　called　〃the　little　dipper　minus　two。〃　a　really　silly　name；　but　its　based　on　a　mistake。　we　wanted　to　give　our　club　a　special　name；　and　because　there　were　five　of　us；　we　came　up　with　the　idea　of　the　little　dipper。　we　thought　it　consisted　of　five　stars；　but　we　turned　out　to　be　wrong。　it　has　seven；　like　the　big　dipper；　which　explains　the　〃minus　two。〃　ilse　wagner　has　a　ping…pong　set；　and　the　wagners　let　us　play　in　their　big　dining　room　whenever　we　want。　since　we　five　ping…pong　players　like　ice　cream；　especially　in　the　summer；　and　since　you　get　hot　playing　ping…pong；　our　games　usually　end　with　a　visit　to　the　nearest　ice…cream　parlor　that　allows　jews：　either　oasis　or　delphi。　weve　long　since　stopped　hunting　around　for　our　purses　or　money　　most　of　the　time　its　so　busy　in　oasis　that　we　manage　to　find　a　few　generous　young　men　of　our　acquaintance　or　an　admirer　to　offer　us　more　ice　cream　than　we　could　eat　in　a　week。

youre　probably　a　little　surprised　to　hear　me　talking　about　admirers　at　such　a　tender　age。　unfortunately；　or　not；　as　the　case　may　be；　this　vice　seems　to　be　rampant　at　our　school。　as　soon　as　a　boy　asks　if　he　can　bicycle　home　with　me　and　we　get　to　talking；　nine　times　out　of　ten　i　can　be　sure　hell　bee　enamored　on　the　spot　and　wont　let

me　out　of　his　sight　for　a　second。　his　ardor　eventually　cools；　especially　since　i　ignore　his　passionate　glances　and　pedal　blithely　on　my　way。　if　it　gets　so　bad　that　they　start　rambling　on　about　〃asking　fathers　permission；〃　i　swerve　slightly　on　my　bike；　my　schoolbag　falls；　and　the　young　man　feels　obliged　to　get　off　his　bike　and　hand　me　the　bag；　by　which　time　ive　switched　the　conversation　to　another　topic。　these　are　the　most　innocent　types。　of　course；　there　are　those　who　blow　you　kisses　or　try　to　take　hold　of　your　arm；　but　theyre　definitely　knocking　on　the　wrong　door。　i　get　off　my　bike　and　either　refuse　to　make　further　use　of　their　pany　or　act　as　if　im　insulted　and　tell　them　in　no　uncertain　terms　to　go　on　home　without　me。　there　you　are。　weve　now　laid　the　basis　for　our　friendship。　until　tomorrow。

yours；　anne　

sunday；　june　21；　1942

dearest　kitty；

our　entire　class　is　quaking　in　its　boots。　the　reason；　of　course；　is　the　uping　meeting　in　which　the　teachers　decide　wholl　be　promoted　to　the　next　grade　and　wholl　be　kept　back。　half　the　class　is　making　bets。　g。z。　and　i　laugh　ourselves　sick　at　the　two　boys　behind　us；　c。n。　and　jacques　kocernoot；　who　have　staked　their　entire　vacation　savings　on　their　bet。　from　morning　to　night；　its　〃youre　going　to　pass；　no；　im　not；鈥�

〃yes；　you　are；〃　〃no；　im　not。〃　even　g。s　pleading　glances　and　my　angry　outbursts　cant　calm　them　down。　if　you　ask　me；　there　are　so　many　dummies　that　about　a　quarter　of　the　class　should　be　kept　back；　but　teachers　are　the　most　unpredictable　creatures　on　earth。　maybe　this　time　theyll　be　unpredictable　in　the　right　direction　for　a　change。　im　not　so　worried　about　my　girlfriends　and　myself。

well　make　it。　the　only　subject　im　not　sure　about　is　math。　anyway；　all　we　can　do　is　wait。　until　then；　we　keep　telling　each　other　not　to　lose　heart。

i　get　along　pretty　well　with　all　my　teachers。　there　are　nine　of　them；　seven　men　and　two　women。　mr。　keesing；　the　old　fogey　who　teaches　math；　was　mad　at　me　for　the　longest　time　because　i　talked　so　much。　after　several　warnings；　he　assigned　me　extra　homework。　an　essay　on　the　subject　〃a　chatterbox。〃　a　chatterbox；　what　can　you　write　about　that？　id　wbrry　about　that　later；　i　decided。　i　jotted　down　the　assignment　in　my　notebook；　tucked　it　in　my　bag　and　tried　to　keep　quiet。

that　evening；　after　id　finished　the　rest　of　my　homework；　the　note　about　the　essay　caught　my　eye。　i　began　thinking　about　the　subject　while　chewing　the　tip　of　my　fountain　pen。　anyone　could　ramble　on　and　leave　big　spaces　between　the　words；　but　the

trick　was　to　e　up　with　convincing　arguments　to　prove　the　necessity　of　talking。　i　thought　and　thought；　and　suddenly　i　had　an　idea。　i　wrote　the　three　pages　mr。　keesing　had　assigned　me　and　was　satisfied。　i　argued　that　talking　is　a　female　trait　and　that　i　would　do　my　best　to　keep　it　under　control；　but　that　i　would　never　be　able　to　break　myself　of　the　habit；　since　my　mother　talked　as　much　as　i　did；　if　not　more；　and　that　theres　not　much　you　can　do　about　inherited　traits。

mr。　keesing　had　a　good　laugh　at　my　arguments；　but　when　i　proceeded　to　talk　my　way　through　the　next　class；　he　assigned　me　a　second　essay。　this　time　it　was　supposed　to　be　on　〃an　incorrigible　chatterbox。〃　i　handed　it　in；　and　mr。　keesing　had　nothing　to　plain　about　for　two　whole　classes。　however；　during　the　third　class　hed　finally　had　enough。　〃anne　frank；　as　punishment　for　talking　in　class；　write　an　essay　entitled　quack；　quack；　quack；　said　mistress　chatterback。鈥�

the　class　roared。　i　had　to　laugh　too；　though　id　）　nearly　exhausted　my　ingenuity　on　the　topic　of　chatterboxes。　it　was　time　to　e　up　with　something　else；　j　something　original。　my　friend　sanne；　whos　good