sunday, may 2, 1943


    when i think about our lives here, i usuallye to the conclusion that we live in a paradisepared to the jews who aren''t in hiding. all the same,ter on, when everything has returned to normal, i''ll probably wonder how we, who always lived in suchfortable circumstances, could have "sunk" so low. with respect to manners, i mean. for example, the same oilcloth has covered the dining table ever since we''ve been here. after so much use, it''s hardly what you''d call spotless. i do my best to clean it, but since the dishcloth was also purchased before we went into hiding and consists of more holes than cloth, it''s a thankless task. the van daans have been sleeping all winter long on the same nnel sheet, which can''t be washed because detergent is rationed and in short supply. besides, it''s of such poor quality that it''s practically useless. father is walking around in frayed trousers, and his tie is also showing signs of wear and tear. mama''s corset snapped today and is beyond repair, while margot is wearing a bra that''s two sizes too small, mother and margot have shared the same three undershorts the entire winter, and mine are so small they don''t even cover my stomach. these are all things that can be ovee, but i sometimes wonder: how can we, whose every possession, from my underpants to father''s shaving brush, is so old and worn, ever hope to regain the position we had before the war?

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