Mobi Ebook Free Download Anne Frank's Diary: The
Paz Warsager
Anne Frank's Diary is just a small part of World War II history. But reading it can open our minds to the enormous errors and crimes committed by the Nazism against human beings. Anne Frank's Diary is a book that undoubtedly deserves to be read.
Written with insight, some humor, and intelligence, the Diary became a classic of war literature, personalizing the Holocaust and offering a moving coming-of-age story. To many, the book was also a source of inspiration and hope. During such adversity, Anne poignantly wrote, I still believe, despite everything, that people are really good at heart.
Anne Frank - The author of the diary. Anne was born on June 12, 1929, in Frankfurt, Germany, and was four years old when her father moved to Holland to find a better place for the family to live. She is very intelligent and perceptive, and she wants to become a writer. Anne grows from an innocent, tempestuous, precocious, and somewhat petty teenage girl to an empathetic and sensitive thinker at age fifteen. Anne dies of typhus in the concentration camp at Bergen-Belsen in late February or early March of 1945.
Mr. Kugler - A man who helps hide the Franks in the annex. Victor Kugler is arrested along with Kleiman in 1944 but escapes in 1945. He immigrates to Canada in 1955 and dies in Toronto in 1981. Mr. Kugler is also referred to as Mr. Kraler.
Mr. Kleiman - Another man who helps the Franks hide. Johannes Kleiman is arrested in 1944 but released because of poor health. He remains in Amsterdam until his death in 1959. Mr. Kleiman is also referred to as Mr. Koophuis.
On Friday, June 12th, I woke up at six o'clock and no wonder, it was my birthday. But of course, I was not allowed to get up at that hour, so I had to control my curiosity until a quarter to seven. Then I could bear it no longer, and went to the dining room, where I received a warm welcome from Moortje (the cat).
Soon after seven I went to Mummy and Daddy and then to the sitting room to undo my presents. The first to greet me was you, possibly the nicest of all. Then on the table there were a bunch of roses, a plant, and some peonies, and more arrived during the day.
I had my birthday party on Sunday afternoon. We showed a film The Lighthouse Keeper with Rin-Tin-Tin, which my school friends thoroughly enjoyed. We had a lovely time. There were lots of girls and boys. Mummy always wants to know whom I'm going to marry. Little does she guess that it's Peter Wessel, one day I managed, without blushing or flickering an eyelid, to get that idea right out of her mind.
For years Lies Goosens and Sanne Houtman have been my best friends. Since then, I've got to know Jopie de Waal at the Jewish Secondary School. We are together a lot and she is now my best girlfriend. Lies is more friendly with another girl, and Sanne goes to a different school, where she has made new friends.
There is a saying that paper is more patient than man, it came back to me on one of my slightly melancholy days, while I sat chin in hand, feeling too bored and limp even to make up my mind whether to go out or stay at home. Yes, there is no doubt that paper is patient and as I don't intend to show this cardboard-covered notebook, bearing the proud name of diary, to anyone, unless I find a real friend, boy or girl, probably nobody cares. And now I come to the root of the matter, the reason for my starting a diary: it is that I have no such real friend.
Hence, this diary. To enhance in my mind's eye, the picture of the friend for whom I have waited so long, I don't want to set down a series of bald facts in a diary like most people do, but I want this diary itself to be my friend, and I shall call my friend Kitty. No one will grasp what I'm talking about if I begin my letters to Kitty just out of the blue, so, albeit unwillingly, I will start by sketching in brief the story of my life.
My father was thirty-six when he married my mother, who was then twenty-five. My sister Margot was born in 1926 in Frankfort-on-Main, I followed on June 12, 1929, and, as we are Jewish, we emigrated to Holland in 1933, where my father was appointed Managing Director of Travies N.V. This firm is in close relationship with the firm of Kolen & Co. in the same building, of which my father is a partner.
The rest of our family, however, felt the full impact of Hitler's anti-Jewish laws, so life was filled with anxiety. In 1938 after the pogroms, my two uncles (my mother's brothers) escaped to the U.S.A. My old grandmother came to us, she was then seventy-three. After May 1940 good times rapidly fled: first the war, then the capitulation, followed by the arrival of the Germans, which is when the sufferings of us Jews really began. Anti-Jewish decrees followed each other in quick succession. Jews must wear a yellow star, I Jews must hand in their bicycles, Jews are banned from trams and are forbidden to drive. Jews are only allowed to do their shopping between three and five o'clock and then only in shops which bear the placard Jewish shop. Jews must be indoors by eight o'clock and cannot even sit in their own gardens after that hour. Jews are forbidden to visit theaters, cinemas, and other places of entertainment. Jews may not take part in public sports. Swimming baths, tennis courts, hockey fields, and other sports grounds are all prohibited to them. Jews may not visit Christians. Jews must go to Jewish schools, and manymore restrictions of a similar kind.
So, we could not do this and were forbidden to do that. But life went on despite it all. Jopie used to say to me, You're scared to do anything, because it may be forbidden. Our freedom was strictly limited. Yet things were still bearable.
In 1934 I went to school at the Montessori Kindergarten and continued there. It was at the end of the school year, I was in form 6B, when I had to say good-by to Mrs. K. We both wept, it was very sad. In 194I I went, with my sister Margot, to the Jewish Secondary School, she into the fourth form and I into the first.
I've been playing ping-pong a lot myself lately. We ping pongers are very partial to an ice cream, especially in summer, when one gets warm at the game, so we usually finish up with a visit to the nearest ice-cream shop, Delphi or Oasis, where Jews are allowed. We've given up scrounging for extra pocket money. Oasis is usually full and among our large circle of friends we always manage to find some kindhearted gentleman or boyfriend, who presents us with more ice cream than we could devour in a week.
I expect you will be rather surprised at the fact that I should talk of boyfriends at my age. Alas, one simply can't seem to avoid it at our school. As soon as a boy asks if he may bicycle home with me and we get into conversation, nine out of ten times I can be sure that he will fall head over heels in love immediately and simply won't allow me out of his sight. After a while it cools down of course, especially as I take little notice of ardent looks and pedal blithely on.
If it gets so far that they begin about asking Father I swerve slightly on my bicycle, my satchel falls, the young man is bound to get off and hand it to me, by which time I have introduced a new topic of conversation.
b37509886e