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, We’ve received a book from the library with the challenging title
What Do You Think of the Modern Young Girl? I’d like to discuss this subject today.
The writer criticizes “today’s 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 who’s known me for any length of time:
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