DAILY LIFE & RATIONS
By 1943, food shortages were severe.
The
occupants
relied
on
"weck" (bottled) vegetables and
whatever the protectors could secure
through the black market using
illegal ration coupons.
The entrance to the Annex was soon hidden behind a movable bookcase. We have to be very
quiet during the day so the workmen downstairs don't hear us. We can't flush the toilet or
open a window.
August 1942: The van Daan family arrived. Mr. and Mrs. van Daan and their son Peter, who is
sixteen. Peter is a quiet, rather timid lad. There are now seven of us. It is cramped, and
tempers often flare.
November 1942: Albert Dussel, a dentist, joined us. He is the eighth person. I have to share
my small room with him. He is a very starchy old gentleman, and we often clash over the use
of the small table.
The Long Wait
1943
Life in the Annex has become a routine of fear
and boredom. We listen to the BBC for news of
the Allied advance. Every knock at the door or
sound in the warehouse sends a shiver through
us.
I spend my time studying. I am learning French, History, and Shorthand. Father is a
wonderful teacher. But the atmosphere is often heavy. Mrs. van Daan is constantly
complaining, and Mother and I don't see eye to eye on many things. I feel lonely even though
I am surrounded by people.
Food is becoming scarce. We live on 'end-of-the-season' vegetables—rotten carrots and
kale. Our protectors, Miep Gies, Bep Voskuijl, Mr. Kleiman, and Mr. Kugler, are heroes. They
risk their lives every day to bring us food, books, and news of the outside world.
I've started to think more about what it means to be a Jew. Why are we being singled out?
Why is the world so cruel? Yet, when I look at the chestnut tree through the attic window, I
still feel that beauty remains.
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