!Disclaimer! This piece refers to triggering subjects such as the Holocaust. Please take care
Note to the reader: I was asked why I would put myself through such a sad story during the world’s struggle with COVID-19, and my response to that is this: though the Holocaust is an incredibly haunting and dreadful part of history, the basic aspects of Anne’s journey is not unlike what some are going through now, nor are her thoughts and aspirations an unhappy read. Sometimes we need to set aside our stresses and reflect upon ourselves. In this moment I needed Anne’s help to do just that.
I have recently finished reading Anne Frank’s, The Diary of a Young Girl, the Definitive Edition, edited by her father, Otto H. Frank and a woman named Mirjam Pressler. This edition was first published in the states in 1995 by Doubleday.
From looking Mirjam’s name up on Google, I am struggling to find any information on what her connection is to the Frank family. Perhaps she is just a renown editor with a personal connection to the Holocaust, or, as GoodReads shows, she’s just a fellow writer with an infinity for Anne’s story. I’m not entirely sure. Either way, she helped restore 25-30% more of Anne’s diary and I am forever grateful to her for that fact.
This 25-30% addition is why the second version I have read of Anne’s letters is titled, “the Definitive edition”. On top of this, Otto Frank permitted Anne’s entries on sexuality to be in this publication which he had originally kept from the public out of respect for Anne’s innermost thoughts.
Thus, from my understanding, this is the ultimate compilation of Anne’s letters. Not all of her diary pages were found since they had been scattered and mussed up after the Nazi’s invaded the Annex, but Otto Frank saved what he could and, with the help of historians, recovered as much of Anne’s experience in the Annex as possible.
I first discovered Anne Frank when I was in the seventh grade. I sat at a scratched wooden desk with my notebook opened and doodles littering the pages. I tried to focus on the front of the classroom but every once in a while I got lost in the smile of a boy I had a deep crush on. I tuned in when I could, with a day dreaming ear, to my teacher as she explained our latest assignment.
We were supposed to read “The Diary of a Young Girl”. As we read this “novel”, we were to start a diary of our own to reflect upon our lives and appreciate the world we have grown up in. That afternoon I started reading Anne’s letters. The next day I bought, or probably asked my parents to buy, a small notebook with swirling rainbow colors on the front. I flipped the cover open to reveal the first, crisp page and with a pencil in hand I began to write my own story.
Where my classmates begrudgingly jotted down a quick entry in their notebook for grading purposes, I spent hours spilling my thoughts, feelings, and latest obsessions into my journal just as Anne did in her diary. I discovered that journaling was exactly what I needed to combat anxiety and conflict along with enhancing my appreciation for my day-to-day life and the beauty of the things I loved. I slipped easily into the routine and became inspired to write about everything around me as I continued to devour Anne’s diary on the side.
I borrowed Kitty for a while, starting my entries with “Dear Kitty,” and ending them with, “yours, Shelby”, but as my own voice began to show through I gave Kitty back to Anne and introduced my journal to my own muse named Lydia. As I got older, Lydia disappeared too, and I tried addressing myself with something like, “Hi Shelby,” or “How’re you me?”. I eventually settled on writing with no consistent introduction or friend to greet whenever I flip to a fresh page to write.
Over a decade and 34 journals later I continue to record my thoughts, experiences, and dilemmas with Anne Frank always in the back of mind. On top of expressing my thoughts, I still precariously tape tickets, printed entries, and cards from loved ones into my notebooks. I also create and recreate to-do lists, doodle, and make up stories in them just as I did when I was about twelve-years-old.
My journals remain an integral part of my routine, and though there are sometimes gaps between when I am able to write, I always come back to my notebooks in the end. They always leave me relieved and stronger than before.
Perhaps I would have started journaling anyway if I had not read Anne’s diary, but then again perhaps not. I have always been a writer at heart, just like Anne, so maybe I would have picked up the habit in later years, or perhaps I would have developed another coping mechanism to deal with my surplus of thoughts and feelings. Regardless of this fact, Anne Frank has changed my life. Whether I would have journaled with or without her help, Anne unknowingly provided me with a companion to rely on and mind to admire.
I have always identified with her in a multitude of ways; her desire to write and provide people with stories, her interest in reflection and personal growth, her ambitious, curious, and positive personality, and her appreciation for nature, adventure, and a better life. I find myself in Anne’s words and am soothed by her honesty. I seek to be like her in these ways and live the life she was unable to experience herself. Though I have been granted the opportunity to become an adult, when Anne was only allowed fifteen years of life, I continue to love and understand her as a living person and feel, that if we were able to meet, that she would love and understand me as well.
I am not the only person who feels this way, but I am not deterred by the fact that I must share her. I still believe that she and I would have been wonderful friends in life, and that even in death she watches over me despite her having never known me. Whether or not this is true, Anne has provided hundreds of thousands with feelings similar to my own.
I’m not sure what happened to the original copy I had of Anne’s letters, but the copy I now have is sacred to me not just because I love her work, but because I bought this book in Amsterdam beneath the Annex in the Anne Frank House Museum gift shop. I also purchased a compilation of her short stories, “Tales from the Secret Annex”. I have finished reading those as well, and found her creative style for such a young author is not only lovely but well developed.
Naturally, because Anne was a teenager as she wrote her letters to Kitty, her entries flip flop between deep thought and angsty conflict. Despite her young age, however, she was a very intelligent and introspective girl. Moreso, it seems, than a majority of the adults she had had to live with in the Annex. I am astounded, having read her diary again, at how mature she was. I frequently wondered if I was as mature as her or if I was trapped in existential teenage angst more often than not at age fifteen. Perhaps both. I will have to look back at my earlier journal entries and see what interested or bothered me the most during those times of my life.
I tagged some pages of my book with sticky notes where Anne contemplated particularly heavy or adult topics. I haven’t markered all of the places where I found Anne rather interesting, but then again maybe that would leave me marking the entirety of the book. Even so, the ones I currently have tagged stuck out to me the most.
On page 202, Anne addresses love as she discovers her own sexuality and explores her affection for Peter. She writes,
“Love? What is love? I don’t think you can really put it into words. Love is understanding someone, caring for him, sharing his joys and sorrows. This eventually includes physical love. You’ve shared something, given something away and received something in return, whether or not you’re married, whether or not you have a baby. Losing your virtue doesn’t matter, as long as you know that for as long as you live you’ll have someone at your side who understands you, and who doesn’t have to be shared with anyone else!”
On page, 236, Anne writes down the chant she used to remind herself to keep moving forward:
“Work, love, courage, and hope,
make me good and help me cope!”
On page, 317, Anne discusses the importance of being able to experience nature, and how she longs to be in it once more. She writes,
“Is it because I haven’t been outdoors for so long that I’ve become so mad about nature? I remember a time when a magnificent blue sky, chirping birds, and moonlight and budding blossoms wouldn’t have captivated me. Things have changed since I came here…After that evening my longing to see it again was even greater than my fear of burglars, a dark rat-infested house or police raids. I went downstairs all by myself and looked out into the windows in the kitchen and private office. Many people think nature is beautiful, many people sleep from time to time under the starry sky, and many people in hospitals and prisons long for the day when they’ll be free to enjoy what nature has to offer. But few are isolated and cut off as we are from the joys of nature, which can be shared by rich and poor alike. It’s not just my imagination – looking at the sky, the clouds, the moon and the stars really down make me feel calm and hopeful. It’s much better medicine than valerian or bromide. Nature makes me feel humble and ready to face every blow with courage!”
On page, 324, Anne expresses her thoughts on her maturity compared to her sister, Margo and her love, Peter. Anne writes,
“We’re all alive but we don’t know why or what for; we’re all searching for happiness; we’re all leading lives that are different and yet the same. We three have been raised in good families, we have the opportunity to get an education and make something of ourselves. We have many reasons to hope for great happiness, but…we have to earn it. And that’s something you can’t achieve by taking the easy way out. Earning happiness means doing good and working, not only speculating and being lazy. Laziness may look inviting, but only work gives you true satisfaction.”
And on page, 328, Anne reflects upon her personality and the way she views herself. She writes,
“I have one outstanding character trait that must be obvious to anyone who’s known me for any length of time: I have a great deal of self-knowledge. In everything I do, I can watch myself as if I were a stranger. I can stand across the everyday Anne and, without being biased or making excuses, watch what she’s doing, both good and bad. This self-awareness never leaves me, and every time I open my mouth, I think, ‘you should have said that differently’, or ‘that’s fine the way it is’. I condemn myself in so many ways that I’m beginning to realize the truth of Father’s adage: ‘Every child has to raise itself. Parents can only advise their children or point them in the right direction’.”
Other pages I have marked so far include 263, 334, 328, and 347. I can promise you there will be many more.
The ones I have quoted above, however, have given me cause to reflect upon my own life and appreciate the brilliant mind of a girl who sought to express herself.
At the end of the book, after Anne’s letters have stopped due to her having been captured by Nazis on August 4th, 1944, there is an Afterword and a portion titled, “The Legacy of Anne Frank”. These sections of this published work are written by modern day people, and confide in the reader Otto’s relation to Anne’s letters, the history of the Anne Frank House Museum, and the impact Anne Frank still has on the world. These were equally interesting to read, and I found valuable information in them such as Otto’s true intentions for the museum to be a workshop and hub for young minds to gather and collaborate.
He mentioned that Anne herself serves as a symbol of tolerance, and I heartily agree.
This is just another fine example of the impact Anne has had on the world.
Anne Frank had always wanted to “go on living even after [her] death!” and she has fulfilled that dream of hers. Unfortunately, she is not here to see her influence, but I hope, somewhere, somehow, she knows the impact she has left on the world.
Her diary serves as a reminder to people that the mind is a powerful and beautiful aspect of humanity, and her fictional and non-fictional writings will carry on forever, providing others with a place of emotional refuge.
Thank you Anne Frank for being you, because you were all you needed to be in order to change the world for the better.
