He said it would be very hard for us to live cut off from the rest of the world. I asked him why he was bringing this up now.
“Well, Anne,” he replied, “you know that for more than a year we've been bringing clothes, food and furniture to other people.
We don't want our belongings to be seized by the Germans. Nor do we want to fall into their clutches ourselves.
So we'll leave of our own accord and not wait to be hauled away.”
“But when, Father?” He sounded so serious that I felt scared.
“Don't you worry. We'll take care of everything. Just enjoy your carefree life while you can.”
That was it. Oh, may these somber words not come true for as long as possible.
The doorbell's ringing, Hello's here, time to stop. Yours, Anne
WEDNESDAY, JULY 8, 1942
Dearest Kitty, It seems like years since Sunday morning. So much has happened it's as if the whole world had suddenly turned upside down.
But as you can see, Kitty, I'm still alive, and that's the main thing, Father says. I'm alive all right, but don't ask where or how.
You probably don't understand a word I'm saying today, so I'll begin by telling you what happened Sunday afternoon.
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