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ru stoppelmon is a short； goofy boy from almelo who transferred to this school in the middle of the year。
c。n。 does whatever hes not supposed to。
jacques kocernoot sits behind us； next to c。； and we （g。 and i） laugh ourselves silly。
harry schaap is the most decent boy in our class。 hes nice。
werner joseph is nice too； but all the changes taking place lately have made him too quiet； so he seems boring。 sam salomon is one of those tough guys from across the tracks。 a real brat。 （admirer！）
appie riem is pretty orthodox； but a brat too。
saturday； june 20；1942
writing in a diary is a really strange experience for someone like me。 not only because ive never written anything before； but also because it seems to me that later on neither i nor anyone else will be interested in the musings of a thirteen…year…old schoolgirl。 oh well； it doesnt matter。 i feel like writing； and i have an even greater need to get all kinds of things off my chest。
〃paper has more patience than people。〃 i thought of this saying on one of those days when i was feeling a little depressed and was sitting at home with my chin in my hands； bored and listless； wondering whether to stay in or go out。 i finally stayed where i was； brooding。 yes； paper does have more patience； and since im not planning to let anyone else read this stiff…backed notebook grandly referred to as a 〃diary；鈥�
unless i should ever find a real friend； it probably wont make a bit of difference。
now im back to the point that prompted me to keep a diary in the first place： i dont have a friend。
let me put it more clearly； since no one will believe that a thirteen year…old girl is pletely alone in the world。 and im not。 i have loving parents and a sixteen…year…old sister； and there are about thirty people i can call friends。 i have a throng of admirers who cant keep their adoring eyes off me and who sometimes have to resort to using a broken pocket mirror to try and catch a glimpse of me in the classroom。 i have a family； loving aunts and a good home。 no； on the surface i seem to have everything； except my 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