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ries for dessert； straw… berries with sugar； strawberries with sand。 for two days there was nothing but strawberries； strawberries； strawberries； and then our supply was either exhausted or in jars； safely under lock and key。
〃hey； anne；〃 margot called out one day； 〃mrs。 van hoeven has let us have some peas； twenty pounds！鈥�
〃thats nice of her；〃 i replied。 and it certainly was； but its so much work。 。 。 ugh！
〃on saturday； youve aji got to shell peas；〃 mother announced at the table。
and sure enough； this morning after breakfast our biggest enamel pan appeared on the table； filled to the brim with peas。 if you think shelling peas is boring work； you ought to try removing the inner linings。 i dont think many people realize that once youve pulled out the linings； the pods are soft； delicious and rich in vitamins。 but an even greater advantage is that you get nearly three times as much as when you eat just the peas。
stripping pods is a precise and meticulous job that might be suited to pedantic dentists or finicky spice experts； but its a horror for an impatient teenager like me。 we started work at nine…thirty； i sat down at ten…thirty； got up again at eleven； sat down again at eleven…thirty。 my ears were humming with the following refrain： snap the end； strip the pod； pull the string； pod in the pan； snap the end； strip the pod； pull the string； pod in the pan； etc。； etc。 my eyes were swimming： green； green； worm； string； rotten pod； green； green。 to fight the boredom and have something to do； i chattered all morn… ing； saying whatever came into my head and making everyone laugh。 the monotony was killing me。 every string i pulled made me more certain that i never； ever； want to be just a housewife！
at twelve we finally ate breakfast； but from twelve…thirty to one…fifteen we had to strip pods again。 when i stopped； i felt a bit seasick； and so did the others。 i napped until four； still in a daze because of those wretched peas。
yours； anne
m。 frank
saturday； july 15；1944
dearest kitty；
weve received a book from the library with the challenging title what do you think of the modern young girl？ id like to discuss this subject today。
the writer criticizes 〃todays youth〃 from head to toe； though without dismissing them all as 〃hopeless cases。〃 on the contrary； she believes they have it within their power to build a bigger； better and more beautiful world； but that they occupy themselves with superficial things； without giving a thought to true beauty。 in some passages i had the strong feeling that the writer was directing her disapproval at me； which is why i finally want to bare my soul to you and defend myself against this attack。
i have one outstanding character trait that must be obvious to anyone whos known me for any length of time： i have a great deal of self…knowledge。 in everything i do； i can watch myself as if i were a stranger。 i can stand c across from the everyday anne and； without being biased or making excuses； watch what shes doing； both the good and the bad。 this self…awareness never leaves me； and every time i open my mouth； i think； 〃you should have said that differently〃 or 〃thats fine the way it is。〃 i condemn myself in so many ways that im beginning to realize the truth of fathers adage： 〃every child has to raise itself。〃 parents can only advise their children or point them in the right direction。 ultimately； people shape their own characters。 in addition； i face life with an extraordinary amount of courage。 i feel so strong and capable of bearing burdens； so young and free！ when i first realized this； i was glad； because it means i can more easily withstand the blows life has in store。
but ive talked about these things so often。 now id like to turn to the chapter 〃father and mother dont understand me。〃 my parents have always spoiled me rotten； treated me kindly； defended me against the van daans and done all that parents can。 and yet for the longest time ive felt extremely lonely； left out； neglected and misunderstood。
father did everything he could to curb my rebellious spirit； but it was no use。 ive cured myself by holding my behavior up to the light and looking at what i was doing wrong。
why didnt father support me in my struggle？ why did he fall short when he tried to offer me a helping hand？ the answer is： he used the wrong methods。 he always talked to me as if i were a child going through a difficult phase。 it sounds crazy； since fathers the only one whos given me a sense of confidence and made me feel as if im a sensible person。 but he overlooked one thing： he failed to see that this struggle to triumph over my difficulties was more important to me than anything else。
i didnt want to hear about 〃typical adolescent problems；〃 or 〃other girls；〃 or 〃youll grow out of it。〃 i didnt want to be treated the same as all…the…other…girls； but as anne…in…her…own…right； and rim didnt understand that。 besides； i cant confide in anyone unless they tell me a lot about themselves； and because i know very little about him； i cant get on a more intimate footing。 rim always acts like the elderly father who once had the same fleeting im… pulses； but who can no longer relate to me as a friend； no matter how hard he tries。 as a result； ive never shared my outlook on life or my long…pondered theories with anyone but my diary and； once in a while； margot。 ive hid any… thing having to do with me from father； never shared my ideals with him； deliberately alienated myself from him。
i couldnt have done it any other way。 ive let myself be guided entirely by my feelings。 it was egotistical； but ive done what was best for my own peace of mind。 i would lose that； plus the self…confidence ive worked so hard to achieve； if i were to be subjected to criticism halfway through the job。 it may sound hard…hearted； but i cant take criticism from rim either； because not only do i never share my innermost thoughts with him； but ive pushed him even further away by being irritable。
this is a point i think about quite often： why is it that rim annoys me so much sometimes？ i can hardly bear to have him tutor me； and his affection seems forced。 i want to be left alone； and id rather he ignored me for a while until im more sure of myself when im talking to him！ im still torn with guilt about the mean letter i wrote him when i was so upset。 oh； its hard to be strong and brave in every way！
。 。 。
still； this hasnt been my greatest disappointment。 no； i think about peter much more than i do father。 i know very well that he was my conquest； and not the other way around。 i created an image of him in my mind； pictured him as a quiet； sweet； sensitive boy badly in need of friendship and love！ i needed to pour out my heart to a living person。 i wanted a friend who would help me find my way again。 i acplished what i set out to do and drew him； slowly but surely； toward me。 when i finally got him to be my friend； it automatically developed into an intimacy that； when i think about it now； seems outrageous。 we talked about the most private things； but we havent yet touched upon the things closest to my heart。 i still cant make head or tail
of peter。 is he superficial； or is it shyness that holds him back； even with me？ but putting all that aside； i made one mistake： i used intimacy to get closer to him； and in doing so； i ruled out other forms of friendship。 he longs to be loved； and i can see hes beginning to like me more with each passing day。 our time together leaves him feeling satisfied； but just makes me want to start all over again。 i never broach the subjects i long to bring out into the open。 i forced peter； more than he realizes； to get close to me； and now hes holding on for dear life。 i honestly dont see any effective way of shaking him off and getting him back on his own two feet。 i soon realized he could never be a kindred spirit； but still tried to help him break out of his narrow world and expand his youthful horizons。
〃deep down； the young are lonelier than the old。〃 i read this in a book somewhere and its stuck in my mind。 as far as i can tell； its true。
so if youre wondering whether its harder for the adults here than for the children； the answer is no； its certainly not。 older people have an opinion about everything and are sure of themselves and their actions。 its twice as hard for us young people to hold on to our opinions at a time when ideals are being shattered and destroyed； when the worst side of human nature predominates； when everyone has e to doubt truth； justice and god。
anyone who claims that the older folks have a more difficult time in the annex doesnt realize that the problems have a far greater impact on us。 were much too young to deal with these problems； but they keep thrusting themselves on us until； finally； were forced to think up a solution； though most of the time our solutions crumble when faced with the facts。 its difficult in times like these： ideals； dreams and cherished hopes rise within us； only to be crushed by grim reality。 its a wonder i havent abandoned all my ideals； they seem so absurd and impractical。 yet i cling to them because i still believe； in spite of everything； that people are truly good at heart。
its utterly impossible for me to build