I finished re-reading Anne Frank: The Diary of a Young Girl this afternoon. I hadn't read it since I was probably Anne's age - 13 or 14. It's incredible what she endured, and how eloquently she wrote for such a young girl.
Anne's father was the only member of the Secret Annexe that survived. Some of what Anne wrote must have broken his heart - she longed for his confidence but often felt distanced from him. How useless he must have felt as he watched his family separated and sent to certain death. He preserved Anne's memory by publishing her book and informing the world of what had really happened.
I think of the petty ailments that fill the pages of my journals and wonder how she did it. Anne and her family were in hiding for 2 years - 2 years with hardly any fresh food, hardly any clothes or bedding, and no fresh air. She did all this, and was considered by her oppressors to be unworthy of even the harshest life. To them, she was sub-human.
It's terrifying what the human race is capable of, but it's good to be reminded every now and then.
