way I want to behave, or do behave. Oh, heavens above, now I’m getting you in a muddle too. Forgive me, but I don’t like crossing things out, and in these days of paper shortage we are not allowed to throw paper away.
Therefore, I can only advise you not to read the last sentence again, and certainly not to try to understand it, because you won’t succeed anyhow!
Yours, Anne
Monday, 7 December, 1942
Dear Kitty, Hanukkah and St. Nicholas Day came almost together this year—just one day’s difference. We didn’t make much fuss about Hanukkah: we just gave each other a few little presents and then we had the candles. Because of the shortage of candles we only had them alight for ten minutes, but it is all right as long as you have the song. Mr van Daan has made a wooden candlestick, so that too was all properly arranged.
Saturday, the evening of St. Nicholas Day, was much more fun. Miep and Bep had made us very inquisitive by whispering all the time with Daddy, so naturally we guessed that something was on.
And so it was. At 8 o’clock we all filed down the wooden staircase through the passage in pitch-darkness (it made me shudder and wish that I was safely upstairs again) into the little dark room. There, as there are no windows, we were able to turn on a light. When that was done. Daddy opened the big cupboard. “Oh! how lovely,” we all cried. A large basket decorated with St. Nicholas paper stood in the corner and on top there was a mask of Black Peter.
We quickly took the basket upstairs with us. There was a nice little present for everyone, with a suitable poem attached. I got a doll, whose skirt is a bag for odds and ends, Daddy got book ends, and so on. In any
