that I'd forget my resolution and want Mother to stop whatever she was doing and lend a willing ear.
Then the time would come once more when I no longer listened for the steps on the stairs
and felt lonely and cried into my pillow every night.
Everything has gotten much worse here. But you already knew that.
Now God has sent someone to help me: Peter. I fondle my pendant, press it to my lips and think, “What do I care! Petel is mine and nobody knows it!”
With this in mind, I can rise above every nasty remark.
Which of the people here would suspect that so much is going on in the mind of a teenage girl?
SATURDAY, JANUARY 15, 1944
My dearest Kitty, There's no reason for me to go on describing all our quarrels and arguments down to the last detail.
It's enough to tell you that we've divided many things like meat and fats and oils and are frying our own potatoes.
Recently we've been eating a little extra rye bread because by four o'clock we're so hungry for dinner we can barely control our rumbling stomachs.
Mother's birthday is rapidly approaching. She received some extra sugar from Mr. Kugler,
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