Ru Stoppelmon is a short, goofy boy from Almelo who transferred to this school in the middle of the year.
C.N. does whatever he’s 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. He’s 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 I’ve 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 doesn’t 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
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