Sunday Morning, 7 May, 1944
Dear Kitty, Daddy and I had a long talk yesterday afternoon, I cried terribly and he joined in. Do you know what he said to me, Kitty?
“I have received many letters in my life, but this is certainly the most unpleasant! You, Anne, who have received such love from your parents; you, who have parents who are always ready to help you, who have always defended you whatever it might be, can you talk of feeling no responsibility towards us? You feel wronged and deserted, no, Anne, you have done us a great injustice!”
Perhaps you didn’t mean it like that, but it is what you wrote, no, Anne, we haven’t deserved such a reproach as this!”
Oh, I have failed miserably; this is certainly the worst thing I’ve ever done in my life. I was only trying to show off with my crying and my tears, just trying to appear big, so that he would respect me. Certainly, I have had a lot of unhappiness, but to accuse the good Pim, who has done and still does do everything for me—no, that was too low for words.
It’s right that for once I’ve been taken down from my inaccessible pedestal, that my pride has been shaken a bit, for I was becoming much too taken up with myself again. What Miss Anne does is by no means always right! Anyone who can cause such unhappiness to someone else, someone she professes to love, and on purpose, too, is low, very low!
And the way Daddy has forgiven me makes me feel more ashamed of myself, he is going to throw the letter in the fire and is so sweet to me now, just as if he had done something wrong. No, Anne, you still have a tremendous lot to learn, begin by doing that first, instead of looking down on others and accusing them!
I have had a lot of sorrow, but who hasn’t at my age? I have played the clown a lot too, but I was hardly conscious of it; I felt lonely, but hardly ever in despair! I ought to be deeply ashamed of myself than ever, and indeed I am.
