Josephine O'Grady

United States

If a particle of your observations tugs at you a certain way, don't forget to write it down.

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The Day We Left

December 23, 2015


July 5, 1942

"The first thing I put in was this diary, then hair culers, handkerchiefs, schoolbooks, a comb, old
letters; I put in the craziest things with the idea that we were going into hiding. But I'm not sorry,
memories mean more to me than dresses." 

We left in a hurry that day, the minute we got
the call-up addressed to Margot
the Sunday afternoon started to move much faster.

It all began after Harry left
I was sitting lazily in the sunshine
when the doorbell rang
my sister and I thought it was for Daddy
until Mother told us otherwise.

I started crying; after all, Margot's only sixteen!
They promised not to seperate families
I was wondering what we were to do
when I remembered a conversation with Pim
just a few days ago.

"You know that we have been taking
food, clothes, furniture, to other people
for more than a year now. We don't want 
our belongings seized by the Germans,
but we certainly don't want to fall into 
their clutches ourselves. So we shall disappear 
of our own accord, and not wait until 
they come and fetch us."

"But, Daddy, when would it be?

"Don't you worry about it, we shall arrange everything.
Make the most of your carefree young life
while you can."

The conversation seemed that it had worked
it's way
back into reality.

The Van Pels came to talk in private to Mummy and Daddy
Harry came by again, but they sent him away
then phoned Mr. Koophuis
Miep, Daddy's busniss partner, came by as well; and Henk, her husband
our packed belongings went 
into her bag and to the bottom of Henk's deep pockets.

We woke up at five-thirty the next morning
our stars came off
I wore two vests, three pairs of pants, a dress,
a skirt, jacket, summer coat, two pairs of stockings,
lace-up shoes, woolly cap, 
and still more
No Jew in our situation
would dream of carrying a suitcase
we were lucky it was not hot for a July morning.

I still didn't know where our hiding place was to be
no matter; by seven-thirty the door closed behind us

Now I am here. Where is here? The Secret Annex, we call it,
the attic of the office building where Miep works.

And who am I? I am Anne M. Frank



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