MONDAY, DECEMBER 7, 1942Dearest Kitty,Hanukkah and St. Nichos Day nearly cided this year; they were only one day apart. We didnt make much of a fuss with Hanukkah, merely exging a few small gifts and lighting the dles. Since dles are in short supply, we lit them for only ten minutes, but as long as we sing the song, that doesnt matter. Mr. van Daan made a menorah out of wood, so that was taken care of too.St. Nichos Day on Saturday was much more fun. During dinner Bep and Miep were so busy whispering to Father that our curiosity was aroused and we suspected they were up to something. Sure enough, at eight oclock we all trooped downstairs through the hall in pitch darkness (it gave me the shivers, and I wished I was safely back upstairs!) to the alcove. We could swit the light, sihis room doesnt have any windows. When that was done, Father opehe big et."Oh, how wonderful!" we all cried.In the er was a rge basket decorated with colorful paper and a mask of Bck Peter.We quickly took the basket upstairs with us. Inside was a little gift for everyone, including an appropriate verse. Since youre famthar with the kinds of poems peo ple write each other on St. Nichos Day, I wont copy them down for you.I received a Kewpie doll, Father got bookends, and so on. Well anyway, it was a nice idea, and sihe eight of us had never celebrated St. Nichos Day before, this was a good time to begin.Yours, AnnePS. We also had presents for everyone downstairs, a few things .left over from the Good Old Days; plus Miep and Bep are always grateful for mooday we heard that Mr. van Daan s ashtray, Mr. Dussels picture frame and Fathers bookends were made by her than Mr. Voskuijl. How anyone be so clever with his hands is a mystery to me!THURSDAY, DECEMBER 10, 1942Dearest Kitty,Mr. van Daao be in the meat, sausage and spice business. He was hired for his knowledge of spices, areat delight, its his sausage talents that have e in handy now.We ordered a rge amount of meat (uhe ter, of course) that we were pnning to preserve in case there were hard times ahead. Mr. van Daan decided to make bratwurst, sausages awurst. I had fun watg him put the meat through the grinder: owice, three times. Then he added the remaining ingredi ents to the grou and used a long pipe to force the mixture into the gs.We ate the bratwurst with sauerkraut for lunch, but the sausages, which were going to be ed, had to dry first, so we hung them over a pole suspended from the g. Everyone who came into the room burst into ughter when they saw the dangling sausages.It was such a ical sight.The kit was a shambles. Mr. van Daan, his wifes apron and looking fatter than ever, was w away at the meat. What with his bloody hands, red fad spotted apron, he looked like a real butcher. Mrs. D. was trying to do everything at once: learning Dutch out of a book, stirring the soup, watg the meat, sighing and moaning about her broken rib. Thats what happens when old (!) dies do such stupid exercises to get rid of their fat behinds! Dussel had an eye iion and was sittio the stove dabbing his eye with ile tea. Pim, seated in the one ray of sunshine ing through the window, kept having to move his chair this way and that to stay out of the way. His rheumatism must have been b him because he was slightly hunched over and was keeping an eye on Mr. van Daan with an agonized expression on his face. He reminded me of those aged invalids you see in the poor-house. Peter was romping around the room with Mouschi, the cat, while Mother, Margot and I were peeling boiled potatoes. When you get right down to it, none of us were doing our work properly, because we were all so busy watg Mr. van Daan.Dussel has opened his dental practice. Just for fun, Ill describe the session with his very first patient.Mother was ironing, and Mrs. van D., the first victim, sat down on a chair in the middle of the room. Dussel, unpag his case with an air of importance, asked for some eau de cologne, which could be used as a disiant, and vaseline, which would have to do for wax. He looked in Mrs. van D.s mouth and found two teeth that made her wih pain and utter i cries every time he touched them. After alengthy examinatiohy as far as Mrs. van D. was ed, si actually took no lohan two minutes), Dussel began to scrape out a cavity. But Mrs. van D. had no iion of letting him. She filed her arms and legs until Dussel finally let go of his probe and it . . . remaiu Mrs. van D.s tooth. That really did it!Mrs. van D. shed out wildly in all dires, cried (as much as you with an instrument like that in your mouth), tried to remove it, but only mao push it in even farther. Mr. Dussel calmly observed the se, his hands on his hips, while the rest of the audience roared with ughter. Of course, that was very mean of us.If itd been me, Im sure I would have yelled even louder. After a great deal of squirming, kig, screaming and shouting, Mrs. van D. finally mao yank the thing out, and Mr. Dussel went on with his work as if nothing had happened. He was so quick that Mrs. van D. didnt have time to pull any more shenanigans. But then, he had more help than hes ever had before: no fewer than two assis tants; Mr. van D.and I performed our job well. The whole se resembled one of those engravings from the Middle Ages entitled" A Quack at Work." In the meantime, however, the patient was gettiless, since she had to keep an eye on "her" soup and "her”food. Ohing is certain: itll be a while before Mrs. van D. makes another dental appoi!Yours, AnneSUNDAY, DECEMBER 13, 1942Dearest Kitty,Im sitting here nid cozy in the front office, peering out through a k in the heavy curtains. Its dusky, but theres just enough light to write by.Its really strag people ast. They all seem to be in such a hurry that they nearly trip over their owhose on bicycles whiz by so fast I t even tell whos on the bike. The people in this neighborhood arent particurly attractive to look at. The children especially are so dirty you wouldnt want to touch them with a ten-foot pole. Real slum kids with runny noses. I hardly uand a word they say.Yesterday afternoon, when Margot and I were taking a bath, I said, "What if we took a fishing rod and reeled in each of those kids one by one as they walked by, stuck them iub, washed and meheir clothes and then. . .”"And then tomorrow theyd be just as dirty and tattered as they were before," Margot replied.But Im babbling. There are also other things to look at cars, boats and the rain. I hear the streetcar and the children and Im enjoying myself.Our thoughts are subject to as little ge as we are. Theyre like a merry-go-round, turning from the Jews to food, from food to politics. By the way, speaking of Jews, I saw two yesterday when I eeking through ; the curtains. I felt as though I were gazing at one of the Seven Wonders of the World. It gave me such a funny feeling, as if Id denouhem to the authorities and was now spying on their misfortune.Across from us is a houseboat. The captain lives there with his wife and children. He has a small yapping dog. We know the little dog only by its bark and by its tail, which we see whe runs around the deck. Oh, what a shame, its just started raining and most of the people are hidden uheir umbrels. All I see are raincoats, and now and again the back of a stog-capped head. Actually, I dont eveo look. By now I reize the women at a gnce: goo fat from eating potatoes, dressed in a red reen coat and worn-out shoes, a shopping bag dangling from their arms, with faces that are either grim ood-humored, depending on the mood of their husbands.Yours, AUESDAY, DECEMBER 22, 1942Dearest Kitty,The Annex was delighted to hear that well all be receiving ara quarter pound of butter for Christmas. Acc to the neer, everyone is entitled to half a pound, but they mean those lucky souls who get their ration books from the gover, not Jews in hiding like us who only afford to buy four rather tha ration books on the bck market. Each of us is going to bake something with the butter. This m I made two cakes and a batch of cookies. Its very busy upstairs, and Mother has informed me that Im not to do any studying or reading until all the household chores have been finished.Mrs. van Daan is lying in bed nursing her bruised rib. She pins all day long, stantly demands that the bandages be ged and is generally dissatisfied with everything. Ill be gd whes ba her feet and up after herself because, I must admit, shes extraordinarily hardw a, and as long as shes in good physical aal dition, shes quite cheerful.As if I dont hear "shh, shh" enough during the day because Im always making "too much" noise, my dear roommate has e up with the idea of saying "shh, shh" to me all night too. Acc to him, I shouldnt even turn over. I refuse to take any notice of him, and the ime he shushes me, Im going to shush him right back.He gets more exasperating aistical as the days go by. Except for the first week, I havent seen even one of the cookies he so generously promised me. Hes partic urly infuriating on Sundays, when he switches on the light at the crack of dawn to exercise for ten mio me, the torment seems to st for hours, sihe chairs I use to make my bed longer are stantly being jiggled under my sleepy head. After rounding off his limbering-up exercises with a few vigorous arm swings, His Lordship begins dressing.His underwear is hanging on a hook, so first he lumbers over to get it and then lumbers back, past my bed. But his tie is oable, so once again he pushes and bumps his ast the chairs.But I mustnt waste any more of your time griping about disgusting old men. It wont help matters anyway. My pns for revenge, such as unscrewing the lightbulb, log the door and hiding his clothes, have unfortu nately had to be abandoned ierests of peace.Oh, Im being so sensible! Weve got to be reasonable about everything we do here: studying, listen ing, holding our tongues, helping others, being kind, making promises and I dont know what else! Im afraid my on sense, which was in short supply to begin with, will be used up too quickly and I wont have a by the time the war is over.Yours, Anne