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yours； anne friday； september 25； 1942
dearest kitty；
father has a friend； a man in his mid…seventies named mr。 dreher； whos sick； poor and deaf as a post。 at his side； like a useless appendage； is his wife； twenty…seven years younger and equally poor； whose arms and legs are loaded with real and fake bracelets and rings left over from more prosperous days。 this mr。 dreher has already been a great nuisance to father； and ive always admired the saintly patience with which he handled this pathetic old man on the phone。 when we were still living at home； mother used to advise him to put a gramophone in front of the receiver； one that would repeat every three minutes； 〃yes； mr。 dreher〃 and 〃no； mr。 dreher；〃 since the old man never understood a word of fathers lengthy replies anyway。
today mr。 dreher phoned the office and asked mr。 kugler to e and see him。 mr。
kugler wasnt in the mood and said he would send miep； but miep canceled the appointment。 mrs。 dreher called the office three times； but since miep was reportedly out the entire afternoon； she had to imitate beps voice。 downstairs in the office as well as upstairs in the annex； there was great hilarity。 now each time the phone rings； bep says thats mrs。 dreher！〃 and miep has to laugh； so that the people on the other end of the line are greeted with an impolite giggle。 cant you just picture it？
this has got to be the greatest office in the whole wide world。 the bosses and the
office girls have such fun together！
some evenings i go to the van daans for a little chat。 we eat 〃mothball cookies鈥�
（molasses cookies that were stored in a closet that was mothproofed） and have a good time。 recently the conversation was about peter。 i said that he often pats me on the cheek； which i dont like。 they asked me in a typically grown…up way whether i could ever learn to love peter like a brother； since he loves me like a sister。 〃oh； no！〃 i said； but what i was thinking was； 〃oh； ugh！〃 just imagine！ i added that peters a bit stiff； perhaps because hes shy。 boys who arent used to being around girls are like that。
i must say that the annex mittee （the mens section） is very creative。 listen to the scheme theyve e up with to get a message to mr。 broks； an opekta co。 sales representative and friend whos surreptitiously hidden some of our things for us！
theyre going to type a letter to a store owner in southern zealand who is； indirectly； one of opekta s customers and ask him to fill out a form and send it back in the enclosed self…addressed envelope。 father will write the address on the envelope himself。 once the letter is returned from zealand； the form can be removed and a handwritten message confirming that father is alive can be inserted in the envelope。
this way mr。 broks can read the letter without suspecting a ruse。 they chose the province of zealand because its close to belgium （a letter can easily be smuggled across the border） and because no one is allowed to travel there without a special permit。 an ordinary salesman like mr。 broks would never be granted a permit。
yesterday father put on another act。 groggy with sleep； he stumbled off to bed。 his feet were cold； so i lent him my bed socks。 five minutes later he flung them to the floor。 then he pulled the blankets over his head because the light bothered him。 the lamp was switched off； and he gingerly poked his head out from under the covers。 it was all very amusing。 we started talking about the fact that peter says margot is a 〃buttinsky。〃 suddenly daddys voice was heard from the depths： 〃sits on her butt； you mean。
mouschi； the cat； is being nicer to me as time goes by； but im still somewhat afraid of her。
yours； anne sunday； september 27； 1942
dearest kitty；
mother and i had a so…called 〃discussion〃 today； but the annoying part is that i burst into tears。 i cant help it。 daddy is always nice to me； and he also understands me much better。 at moments like these i cant stand mother。 its obvious that im a stranger to her； she doesnt even know what i think about the most ordinary things。
we were talking about maids and the fact that youre supposed to refer to them as 〃domestic help〃 these days。 she claimed that when the war is over； thats what theyll want to be called。 i didnt quite see it that way。 then she added that i talk about later〃 so often and that i act as if i were such a lady； even though im not； but i dont think building sand castles in the air is such a terrible thing to do； as long as you dont take it too seriously。 at any rate； daddy usually es to my defense。
without him i wouldnt be able to stick it out here。
i dont get along with margot very well either。 even though our family never has the same kind of outbursts they have upstairs； i find it far from pleasant。 margots and mothers personalities are so alien to me。 i understand my girlfriends better than my own mother。 isnt that a shame？
for the umpteenth time； mrs。 van daan is sulking。 shes very moody and has been removing more and more of her belongings and locking them up。 its too bad mother doesnt repay every van daan 〃disappearing act〃 with a frank 〃disappearing act。鈥�
some people； like the van daans； seem to take special delight not only in raising their own children but in helping others raise theirs。 margot doesnt need it； since shes naturally good； kind and clever； perfection itself； but i seem to have enough mischief for the two of us。 more than once the air has been filled with the van daans admonitions and my saucy replies。 father and mother always defend me fiercely。
without them i wouldnt be able to jump back into the fray with my usual posure。
they keep telling me i should talk less； mind my own business and be more modest； but i seem doomed to failure。 if father werent so patient； id have long ago given up hope of ever meeting my parents quite moderate expectations。
if i take a small helping of a vegetable i loathe and eat potatoes instead； the van daans； especially mrs。 van daan； cant get over how spoiled i am。 〃e on； anne； eat some more vegetables；〃 she says。
〃no； thank you； maam；〃 i reply。 〃the potatoes are more than enough。鈥�
〃vegetables are good for you； your mother says so too。 have some more；〃 she insists； until father intervenes and upholds my right to refuse a dish i dont like。
then mrs。 van d。 really flies off the handle： 〃you should have been at our house； where children were brought up the way they should be。 i dont call this a proper upbringing。 anne is terribly spoiled。 id never allow that。 if anne were my daughter。 。
。鈥�
this is always how her tirades begin and end： 〃if anne were my daughter。 。 。〃 thank goodness im not。
but to get back to the subject of raising children； yesterday a silence fell after mrs。
van d。 finished her little speech。 father then replied； 〃i think anne is very well brought up。 at least shes learned not to respond to your interminable sermons。 as far as the vegetables are concerned； all i have to say is look whos calling the kettle black。鈥�
mrs。 van d。 was soundly defeated。 the pot calling the ketde black refers of course to madame herself； since she cant tolerate beans or any kind of cabbage in the evening because they give