Anne Frank's Tales from the Secret Annex (9 page)

T
HE CARETAKER'S FAMILY
ignores the black-out regulations, both summer and winter. It looks like peacetime, when the lamps shone so invitingly in all the houses and you could see everyone gathered round the dining table or the tea table.

In this respect, the caretaker's family doesn't seem to care whether it's war or peace. Take a look through the brightly lit window, and you'll see Father, Mother, Son and Daughter gathered round the table.

All Mother wants is to take as little notice of the war as possible. She doesn't like imitation gravy, so she does without, she doesn't want ersatz tea, so she drinks peppermint tea instead, and she doesn't want to hear the ack-ack guns, so she's come up with an effective remedy against that as well: she sits in the shower and listens to her loudest jazz record. And when the neighbours complain, she doesn't let it bother her, but brings them a peace offering in the form of food the next day.

The lady on the third floor, whose daughter is engaged
to Son, gets a nice big pancake. And Mrs Steen, the neighbour on her left, is favoured with a quarter of a cup of sugar. The dentist in the rear second-floor flat, whose assistant is her youngest daughter, is not overlooked either. But Father is furious, since every ack-ack night costs him three cigarettes.

Mother and Father are alone during the daytime. They take loving care of their five rabbits, which get fatter every day. The rabbits have a cradle to sleep in, a shed to shelter from the rain in and a food bowl that serves as a dining table. In the wintertime they have a little house with windows and nice roomy cages. Their daily menu consists of carrot tops and other fine delicacies.

Father works hard in the garden, Mother in the house. Everything is spic and span. Once a week the windows are cleaned (both front and back), once a week the rugs are taken out and beaten and once a week the pots and pans are polished to a shine – all with the help of the fat cleaning lady who's worked for them for ever.

Father's job has become easier. At the moment he takes care of just the big office upstairs. All he has to do is sleep lightly, so he can hear if anyone is trying to break in. In the old days Mother and the cleaning lady used to keep the entire building clean. However, she stopped working after one daughter got married and another had her tenth baby.

Mother and Father's biggest pleasure is having the grandchildren visit. Their little voices ring out across the garden: ‘Grandma, Grandpa. Come and look, the rabbits are doing such funny things!' And Grandma and Grandpa
rush over, because they believe that grandchildren ought to be spoiled. Grandchildren aren't like your own children, who need to be kept in order.

Grandpa is busy making a canoe for his oldest granddaughter's birthday. I wish I had a grandfather like him.

Saturday, 7 August 1943

‘G'N
IGHT
, E
VA
. Sleep tight.'

‘You too, Mum.'

Click went the light, and Eva lay for a few moments in the darkness. Once her eyes had got used to it, she noticed that her mother hadn't closed the curtains all the way – there was a strip of light in the middle, through which she could see the plump round face of the moon. The moon hung motionless in the sky, calm and with a constant smile on his face, friendly to one and all.

‘If only I could be like that,' Eva whispered to herself. ‘I wish I were calm and friendly all the time, so that everybody would think I was a nice little girl. Oh, wouldn't that be lovely!'

Eva thought and thought about the moon, and about the glaring difference between the moon and herself. Finally, after all that thinking, her eyelids closed and her thoughts transformed themselves into a dream, which Eva
remembered in such detail the next day that she later wondered if it had actually happened.

Eva found herself at the entrance to a large park. She was peering uncertainly through the gate, not quite daring to go inside. Just as she was about to turn away, a tiny little woman with wings came up to her and said, ‘Don't be afraid to go in, Eva. Or don't you know the way?'

‘No, I don't,' Eva shyly confessed.

‘Well, then, let me show you.' And the plucky little elf took Eva's hand.

Eva had gone for many walks in many different parks with her mother and grandmother, but she had never seen one as beautiful as this. There were masses of flowers, trees and fields, every imaginable kind of insect, and small animals such as turtles and squirrels.

The elf chatted about cheerful things until Eva finally overcame her bashfulness enough to ask a question. But the elf quickly silenced her by putting a finger to Eva's lips.

‘I'll point out everything in turn and explain it to you. After each explanation you can ask me questions about the things you don't understand, but the rest of the time you'll have to keep quiet and not interrupt. If you do, I'll take you home at once, and then you'll be just as ignorant as all the other ignorant people!

‘Well, that's that. Let's begin. First, there's the rose – the queen of the flowers; she's so beautiful and her fragrance is so intoxicating that it goes to everyone's head, most of all her own. The rose is beautiful, sweet-smelling and
elegant, but if things aren't going her way, she shows her thorns. She's like a spoiled child – beautiful, elegant and seemingly nice as can be, but if you touch her or talk to someone else so that she's no longer the centre of attention, out come her claws. She'll be catty and offended, and will do her best to hide it. Her manners have been acquired, which means they're only skin-deep.'

‘But, Elf, if that's true, why does everyone think of the rose as the queen of the flowers?'

‘Most people are blinded by the outer glow. If they'd been allowed to vote, very few people would have picked the rose. The rose is majestic and beautiful, and just as in the real world, no one asks the flowers whether a bloom which is outwardly less pretty might actually be inwardly more beautiful and more fit to rule.'

‘Do you mean to say, Elf, that the rose isn't beautiful?'

‘Not at all, Eva. The rose is beautiful on the outside. And if she weren't constantly in the limelight, she might even be nice and kind. But since she happens to be first and foremost among the flowers, she will always think she's prettier than she actually is, and as long as that's true, the rose will go on being stuck-up, and I don't like
stuck-up
creatures!'

‘Is Leentje stuck-up? After all, she's beautiful and rich, which is why she's our class's ringleader.'

‘Think about it for a moment, Eva. You'll have to admit that if your classmate Marietje were to stand up to her, Leentje would soon have all the other girls on her side. She'd point out that Marietje is ugly and poor. The rest of you would do whatever Leentje tells you to, because
you all know she'll be cross with you if you don't, and that you'll never be in her good books again. And in your eyes, being out of your ringleader's good books is almost as bad as having the headmaster be cross with you. You wouldn't be allowed to go to her house any more, and the rest of the class would ignore you. Later on, girls like Leentje will find themselves alone, because when the other girls are older, they'll turn against her. But, Eva, if they were to do that now, Leentje would have an opportunity to change before she ends up being alone for the rest of her life.'

‘Should I try to get the other girls to stop listening to her?'

‘Yes. She'll be angry and indignant at first. But once she realizes why you're doing it and understands her own behaviour better, she'll be grateful and will have more genuine friends than she's ever had before.'

‘Now I see what you mean. But tell me, Elf, am I also vain, like the rose?'

‘Listen to me, Eva. Any adult or child who seriously asks themselves that question can't be vain, because vain people don't realize they're vain. You're the best person to answer that question, so I advise you to look into your own heart.

‘But let's continue. You see this? Isn't it nice?' As she spoke, the elf knelt beside a bluebell, which was gently swaying back and forth in the grass to the rhythm of the wind.

‘This bluebell is simple and kind. It brings joy to the world. It chimes for flowers, just as church bells chime for
people. It helps lots of flowers and is a comfort to them. The bluebell is never lonely; there's music in its heart. It's a much happier creature than the rose. The bluebell isn't interested in the praise of others. The rose lives and thrives on admiration. When that's missing, the rose has nothing to make her happy. Her outward appearance is for other people, but her heart is empty and therefore cheerless. The bluebell, on the other hand, may not be as beautiful, but she has “real” friends who value her melodies; those friends live in the flower's heart.'

‘But the bluebell is also a pretty flower, isn't it?'

‘Yes, but not as eye-catching as the rose. Unfortunately, most people only notice the most obvious things.'

‘But I often feel lonely too and want to have people around me. Is that wrong?'

‘That has nothing to do with it, Eva. Later, when you're older, you'll hear the song in your heart. I'm sure you will!'

‘Please continue your story, dear little Elf. It's beautiful, and so are you.'

‘All right, I'll go on. Next, I want you to look up!' With her tiny index finger, the elf pointed up at a large, stately, old chestnut tree. ‘It's an impressive tree, isn't it?'

‘Yes, and so big. How old do you think he is, Elf?'

‘At least a hundred and fifty years old. But he's still standing tall, and he doesn't feel old. Everyone admires him for his strength, and he proves it by taking no notice of their admiration. He won't tolerate having anyone higher, and he's egotistical and indifferent to others – as long as
he
has what he wants, nothing else matters. He
looks so generous, our chestnut does, as if he's a comfort to one and all, but it's easy to be mistaken. The chestnut would rather not have anyone come to him with their troubles. He leads a good life, but begrudges others the same. The trees and flowers know it, so they take their troubles to the cosy, homely pine and ignore the chestnut.

‘Still, the chestnut tree has a very small song in a very big heart. This can be seen by his affection for the birds. There's always a place for them on one of his branches, and he always has a little something for them, even if it's not much.'

‘Is it all right if I compare the chestnut tree to a certain type of person?'

‘There's no need for you to ask, Eva. All living creatures can be compared to one another. The chestnut tree is no exception. Anyway, he's not all bad, he's just not particularly good to people. But he harms no one. He leads his own life, and is happy. Do you have any other questions, Eva?'

‘No, I understand everything you said and I'm very grateful for your explanations, Elf. I have to go home now, but will you please come again someday and tell me more?'

‘I'm afraid that's impossible. Sleep tight, Eva.'

And the elf was gone. Eva woke up, just as the moon was making way for the sun and the neighbour's cuckoo clock was cheeping seven.

T
HE DREAM MADE
a deep impression on Eva. Nearly every day she noticed some disagreeable things about herself, then remembered the elf's advice.

She also tried hard not to let Leentje have her way all the time. But girls like Leentje know at once when someone has it in for them or is trying to topple them from their throne. So, whenever Eva suggested that another person take the lead in one of their games, Leentje defended herself with all her might. Her ‘faithful followers' (the girls who had decided to stick with Leentje through thick and thin, or so they promised) were encouraged to rebel against ‘that bossy Eva'. But Eva noticed to her delight that this time Leentje was less sure of herself than she had been with Marietje.

Marietje was small, thin and timid. Eva was amazed that she even dared to stand up to Leentje. As she got to know her better, Eva saw that Marietje would actually be a lot nicer and a lot more fun to have as a friend than Leentje.

Eva didn't breathe a word of the elf's visit to her mother. She wasn't sure why, since up till now she'd shared everything with her mother, but for the first time she felt the need to keep it to herself. She couldn't explain it, but she had the feeling that her mum wouldn't understand. The elf was so beautiful and Mum hadn't been there in the park or seen the elf. Eva wouldn't be able to describe what the elf looked like.

It didn't take long for the dream to have such an effect on Eva that her mother noticed how different she was. Eva talked about other, more important things, and didn't get so upset about trivial things. But she hadn't told her mother the reason for her remarkable change, and her mother didn't dare push her to confide.

So Eva lived her life, thinking of the elf's good advice and accumulating more all the time. She never saw the elf again. Leentje was no longer the ringleader. Each of the girls took turns. At first Leentje had been very angry, but when she noticed that it didn't help, she adopted a friendlier attitude. In the end everyone treated her normally, because she no longer lapsed into her old habits.

At that point, Eva decided to tell her mother the whole story. Somewhat to her surprise, her mum didn't laugh, but said, ‘The elf accorded you a great privilege, my dear. I doubt whether she thinks very many girls and boys are ready to listen to her. Be equally cautious with your trust, and tell no one else what happened. You must always do what the elf told you to do, and never, ever forget her advice.'

As Eva grew older, she did a lot of good things for those around her. At the age of sixteen (four years after meeting the elf), she was generally acknowledged to be a friendly, gentle and helpful girl. Every time she did something good, she felt happy and warm inside, and she gradually came to understand what the elf had meant by ‘the song in her heart'.

One day, when she was an adult, the image of the elf flashed through her mind and she suddenly realized who
and what the elf had been. All at once she felt sure it had been her own conscience, showing her in her dream what was right. But she was deeply grateful that she'd had the elf as her example in her childhood.

Wednesday, 6 October 1943