This is what was going through my mind: ‘Oh, I’ll never reach Peter like this. Who knows, perhaps he doesn’t like me at all and doesn’t need anyone to confide in. Perhaps he only thinks about me in a casual sort of way. I shall have to go on alone once more, without friendship and without Peter. Perhaps soon I’ll be without hope, without comfort, or anything to look forward to again. Oh, if I could nestle my head against his shoulder and not feel so hopelessly alone and deserted! Who knows, perhaps he doesn’t care about me at all and looks at the others in just the same way.
Perhaps I only imagined that it was especially for me? Oh Peter, if only you could see or hear me. If the truth were to prove as bad as I suspect, it would be more than I could bear.’ However, a little later fresh hope and anticipation seemed to return, even though the tears were still streaming down my cheeks.
Yours, Anne
Wednesday, 23 February, 1944
Dear Kitty.
It’s lovely weather outside and I’ve quite perked up since yesterday.
Nearly every morning, I go to the attic to blow the stuffy air out of my lungs. From my favourite spot on the floor I look up at the blue sky and the bare chestnut tree, on whose branches little raindrops shine, appearing like silver, and at the seagulls and other birds as they glide on the wind.
Peter was tidying up when I went this morning. He stood with his head against a thick beam, and I sat down. We breathed the fresh air, looked outside, and both felt that the spell should not be broken by words. We remained like this for a long time, and when he had to go up to the loft to chop wood, I knew that he was a nice fellow. He climbed the ladder, and I followed, then he chopped wood for about a quarter of an hour, during
which time we still remained silent. I watched him from where I stood, he was obviously doing his best to show off his strength. But I looked out of the open window too, over a large area of Amsterdam, over all the roofs and on to the horizon, which was such a pale blue-that it was hard to see the dividing line. “As long as this exists,” I thought, “and I may live to see it, this sunshine, the cloudless skies, while this lasts, I cannot be unhappy.”
The best remedy for those who are afraid, lonely, or unhappy is to go outside, somewhere where they can be quite alone with the heavens, nature, and God. Because only then does one feel that all is as it should be and that God wishes to see people happy, amidst the simple beauty of Nature. As long as this exists, and it certainly always will, I know that there will always be comfort for every sorrow, whatever the circumstances may be.
And I firmly believe that nature brings solace in all troubles.
Oh, who knows, perhaps it won’t be long before I can share this overwhelming feeling of bliss with someone who feels the way I do about it.
Yours, Anne
A thought: To Peter We miss so much here, so very much and for so long now: I miss it too, just as you do. I’m not talking of outward things, for we are looked after in that way; no, I mean the inward things. Like you, I long for freedom and fresh air, but I believe now that we have ample compensation for our privations. I realised this quite suddenly when I sat in front of the window this morning. I mean inward compensation.
When I looked outside right into the depth of Nature and God, I was happy, really happy. And Peter, so long as one has that happiness, joy in nature, health and a lot more besides, If one can be receptive to that feeling, it will never really go away Riches can all be lost, but that happiness in your own heart can only be veiled, and it will still bring you happiness again, as long as you live. As long as you can look fearlessly up into the
