Anne Frank's Tales From the Secret Annex Read online

  Mirwa had a good yawn, stretched herself out until she was twice as long as usual, then replied, ‘No, you’ve had all you’re going to get. My mistress mustn’t notice you’re here. You’ll have to sneak out through the garden as quick as you can!’ And Mirwa sprang out of her basket, raced across the room, out of one door, in another, out again – through a glass door this time – and they found themselves outside. ‘Good-bye, Blurry, have a good trip.’ And she was gone.

  Lonely and not at all sure of himself any more (a change that must have come over him in the night), Blurry scampered across the garden, under the hedge and on to the street. Where was he supposed to go now, and how long would it be before he discovered the world? Blurry had no idea.

  He was slowly making his way down the street when a huge four-legged beast suddenly came charging round the corner at full speed. It was making such a frightful noise that Blurry’s ears hurt. Terrified, he pressed himself as tightly as he could against the side of a house. The monster stopped a few feet away, then started coming closer. Blurry was so scared he began to cry, but the huge whatever-it-was didn’t seem to care. On the contrary, it sat down and kept staring, wide-eyed, at the poor little teddy bear.

  Blurry was shaking from head to toe, but all of a sudden he plucked up his courage enough to ask, ‘What do you want?’

  ‘I just want to look at you, because I’ve never seen anything like you before.’

  Blurry breathed a sigh of relief. Apparently you could talk to the creature. That was odd, because why didn’t his own mistress ever understand what he said? Still, he didn’t have time to ponder this weighty question because just then the huge animal opened its mouth so wide you could see every one of its teeth. Blurry shivered, much more than he had when Mirwa was licking him clean. What was that frightful creature going to do with him?

  The answer came sooner than he would have liked, for, without so much as a by-your-leave, the animal grabbed him by the neck and started dragging him down the street. Blurry couldn’t cry any more, since he’d choke to death if he did, and screaming was totally out of the question, so all he could do was tremble, which did nothing to boost his courage.

  At least he didn’t have to walk. If his neck wasn’t hurting so much, it wouldn’t be so bad, a bit like going for a ride. Actually, it wasn’t that awful. Hmm, all those thumpity-thumps made you sleepy. Where’s my ride taking me? Where’s my…Where’s…? Blurry, clutched firmly in the creature’s mouth, had dozed off.

  But his nap didn’t last long, because the big beast suddenly wondered what he was doing with this thing between his teeth. So he blithely let go of Blurry, after first chomping down hard on his neck, and then ran off.

  The helpless little teddy bear who had wanted to see the world lay there on the ground, all alone and in pain. Still, he managed to scramble to his feet so he wouldn’t get stepped on. Rubbing his eyes, he looked around. Far fewer legs, far fewer walls, much more sun and not as many cobblestones beneath your feet. Was this the world?

  His head was throbbing and pounding so badly that he couldn’t think. He didn’t want to walk any more. Why should he? Where would he go? Mirwa was far away, his mother was even further, and with her little mistress. No, now that he’d left, he had to keep going until he’d discovered the world.

  Startled by a noise behind him, he quickly turned his head. Not another beast that was going to bite him? No, this time it was a little girl who had found Blurry.

  ‘Look, Mummy, a teddy bear. Can I take it home with me?’ she asked her mother, who had followed behind her.

  ‘No, it’s filthy. Besides, it’s bleeding!’

  ‘That doesn’t matter, we can wash it off when we get home. I’m going to take it with me so I’ll have something to play with.’

  Blurry couldn’t understand a word, since his little ears were only used to animal talk. But the little girl with the blonde hair seemed nice, so he didn’t put up a struggle when she wrapped him in a cloth and tucked him in her bag. Rocking back and forth, Blurry continued on his travels through the world.

  After the little girl had walked for a while, she took Blurry, still wrapped in the cloth, out of her bag and propped him up on her arm. That was a lucky break – he could now look at the street from above for the first time.

  What a lot of bricks there were, and look how high they’d been stacked, with here and there an opening. And that thing on top, up near the sky – it must be some kind of decoration, like the feather on his mistress’s hat. There was a plume of smoke coming out of it. Do you suppose it had a cigarette in its mouth, one of those thin ones that the master of the house was always smoking? Such a funny sight! But above the bricks there was apparently even more space, because there was a bit of blue. Oh, look, it was moving. Something white came and covered up the blue, drifting closer and closer until it was right above their heads, and then it kept on drifting until once more the area above that tall smoking thing was as blue as it had been before.

  Down on the street, something honked and whizzed by. But where were its legs and feet? It didn’t have any. Instead, there were a couple of round inflated things. Oh my, going out to see the world was certainly worth the effort. What could you learn by sitting at home? Why else had you been born? Not to stay at your mother’s side for ever and ever, but to see things, do things. That’s why he wanted to grow up. Oh, yes, Blurry knew what he wanted.

  Finally…finally, the little girl came to a halt beside a door. She went in, and the first thing Blurry saw was the same kind of creature as Mirwa, a ‘cat’, it was called, if he remembered correctly. This cat rubbed itself against the little blonde girl’s legs, but she pushed him aside and, still carrying Blurry, walked over to one of those white things that his mistress had at home too, though Blurry had forgotten its name. It was high up off the floor – broad, white and smooth. On one side there was a shiny metal object that could be turned, and that’s just what the little blonde girl did. She set Blurry down on top of the hard cold surface and began to wash him, especially his neck, where he’d been bitten by that awful beast. It hurt, and Blurry growled a lot, but no one paid the slightest bit of attention.

  Fortunately, this washing didn’t last as long as Mirwa’s had…though it was a lot colder and wetter. The little girl finished fairly quickly. She dried him off, wrapped him in a clean cloth and tucked him into a moving bed, just like the one his little mistress was always putting him in.

  Why did he have to go to bed now? Blurry wasn’t the least bit tired and didn’t want to go to bed. As soon as the little girl left the room, Blurry slipped out of bed and wandered through a large number of doors and openings until he once again found himself on the street.

  ‘It’s definitely time for me to eat,’ Blurry thought. He sniffed. There must be food nearby, since he could smell it. Following his nose, he soon came to the door from which the appetizing smell was coming. He slipped past a pair of stockinged legs and into the shop.

  Two young girls, standing behind a big, tall object of some kind, caught sight of Blurry almost immediately. They had to work long hard hours and could use a little extra help. So they snatched him up and put him in a dimly lit room, which was incredibly hot.

  It wasn’t so bad, however, since you could eat as much as you wanted. The floor, the benches – everywhere you looked there were rows and rows of cakes and buns. Blurry had never seen so many of them, or such pretty ones. Just what had Blurry ever seen? Not much, in fact! He dug in, eating so many pastries that he almost made himself sick.

  When he was finished, he took a closer look around, for there was indeed a lot to see. It was the land of plenty: breads, buns, cakes and biscuits galore, all for the taking, and it was very busy – Blurry saw lots of white legs, not at all like the ones he’d seen on the street.

  He didn’t have much time for daydreaming. The girls, who had been watching him from a distance, now shoved a big broom into his hands and showed him how to use it. Humph, sweeping floors was going to be a
doddle. Blurry’s mother used to sweep sometimes; he’d seen her do it often enough.

  He gamely got to work, but it wasn’t as easy as it looked. The broom was heavy and the dust tickled his nose so badly that it made him sneeze. Besides, it was hot and he wasn’t used to doing this kind of work in the heat, so that he felt like he was suffocating, but every time he stopped to rest for a moment someone would order him back to work and box his ears to boot.

  ‘If only I hadn’t rushed in here,’ he thought to himself, ‘I would have been spared all this ghastly work.’ But it was no use now. He had no choice but to sweep, so he swept.

  After he had been sweeping for a long time – long enough for the dirt to be piled into a big heap – one of the girls took him by the hand and led him to a corner, where there was a pile of hard, yellowish, curly things. She laid him down on top of these, and Blurry understood that he could now go to sleep.

  Comfortable, as if it were the finest of beds, Blurry stretched himself out and slept, and he went on sleeping until the next morning.

  At seven o’clock he had to get up. Again he was allowed to eat as many pastries as he wanted, and again he was put to work. Poor Blurry, he wasn’t even rested from the long and exhausting hours he’d put in the day before. He wasn’t used to working and the heat bothered him no end. His head, arms and legs ached, and he felt as though his entire body was swollen.

  And now, for the first time, he began to long for home, for his mother, for his little mistress, for his comfy bed and his easy life…but how was he to get there? He’d never be able to escape. The two girls watched his every move, and besides, the one and only door led to the room they were in. Even if he could get that far, they would be sure to stop him. No, Blurry would just have to wait!

  His thoughts were all in a jumble, and he felt sick and weak. The room began to spin, so he sat down. Nobody scolded him. When the dizzy spell was over, he got back to work.

  One can get used to anything. And so it was with Blurry. After a week of sweeping from early in the morning to late at night, he felt as if he’d been doing it for ever.

  Little bears forget quickly, which is just as well. Still, Blurry had not forgotten his mother or his home. It’s just that they seemed so unreal and so far away!

  Then one night the two girls who were holding the little bear hostage saw the following notice in the newspaper:

  REWARD PROMISED FOR THE SAFE RETURN OF A LITTLE BROWN BEAR ANSWERING TO THE NAME OF BLURRY.

  ‘Do you think it might be our bear?’ they asked each other. ‘He doesn’t work very hard anyway. You can’t expect such a small animal to do very much, so if we get a reward for returning him we’ll probably be better off.’ They quickly walked to the back, where the bakery was, and shouted, ‘Blurry!’

  Blurry looked up from his work. Was somebody calling his name? He let go of the broom and perked up his ears even more.

  The girls came closer and shouted again, ‘Blurry?’ Blurry raced over to where they were.

  ‘He’s called Blurry, all right. That’s as plain as day,’ one of the girls said to the other. ‘Let’s take him back tonight.’ And so it was agreed. That very same evening, Blurry was delivered to the house of his little mistress, and the two girls collected their reward.

  From his mistress, Blurry got a spanking for being so naughty and then a kiss for being back home again. From his mother, he got nothing but the following questions:

  ‘Why did you run away, Blurry?’

  ‘Because I wanted to discover the world,’ he said.

  ‘And did you?’

  ‘Oh, I saw lots and lots of things. I’m now a much more experienced bear!’

  ‘Yes, I know that. But I asked if you’d discovered the world?’

  ‘Er…no…not exactly. I couldn’t find it!’

  Sunday, 23 April 1944

  The Fairy

  THE FAIRY I’M talking about was no ordinary fairy, like the ones you usually see in fairyland. Oh, no, my fairy was quite an exceptional fairy – exceptional in looks and exceptional in behaviour. Just what was it, you’re no doubt asking yourself, that made this fairy so exceptional?

  Well, not because she did a little good here and had a little fun there, but because she had taken it upon herself to bring joy to people and the world.

  The name of this exceptional fairy was Ellen. Her parents died when she was very young, but they left her quite a bit of money. So, when Ellen was a little girl, she could do as she wished and buy whatever she wanted. Other children or elves or fairies might have been spoiled by this, but since Ellen had always been so exceptional, she wasn’t in the least bit spoiled. As she grew older, she still had quite a lot of money, but all she ever did with it was buy beautiful clothes and eat delicious food.

  One morning Ellen woke up, and as she lay in her soft little bed, she thought about what to do with her money.

  ‘I can’t spend it all on myself and I can’t take it with me to the grave. So why don’t I use it to make other people happy?’ That was a good plan, and Ellen was anxious to get started right away. So she got up, put on her clothes, grabbed a wicker basket, filled it with money from one of her many bundles and left the house.

  ‘Where shall I begin?’ she wondered. ‘Wait, I know. The woodcutter’s widow will be pleased to have a visit from me. Her husband just died, and the poor woman must be having a difficult time.’

  Singing, Ellen made her way through the grass and knocked at the door of the woodcutter’s little cottage. ‘Come in,’ called a voice from inside. She gently opened the door and stuck her head round it. On the far side of the dark room, a little old lady was sitting in a rickety armchair, knitting.

  She was very surprised when Ellen came in and laid a handful of money on the table. Like everyone else, the old woman knew that you must never refuse the gifts of fairies and elves, so she graciously said, ‘That’s very kind of you, my child. Not very many people would give something for nothing, but luckily the inhabitants of fairyland are different.’

  Ellen looked at her in amazement. ‘What do you mean by that?’ she asked.

  ‘Well, I mean that very few people give something away without expecting something in return.’

  ‘Oh, no? But why would I want anything from you? I’m truly glad that my basket is a little lighter now.’

  ‘Then all is well. Thank you very much.’

  Ellen said good-bye and continued on her way. After walking for ten minutes, she found herself at the next cottage. She knocked, even though she didn’t know the people who lived there. As soon as she had opened the door, Ellen could see that they weren’t in need of money. The people in this house weren’t lacking in material goods, but in happiness.

  The woman received her kindly enough, though she wasn’t very cheerful. Her eyes didn’t sparkle, and she looked sad.

  Ellen decided to stay a little longer. ‘Perhaps I can help this woman in some other way,’ she thought, and sure enough, the moment the nice little fairy had seated herself on a cushion, the woman began, with no prompting, to pour out her woes. She talked about her worthless husband, her naughty children and her many disappointments. Ellen listened, asked an occasional question and became very involved in the woman’s suffering. When the woman finally reached the end of her tale, the two of them sat in silence for a few moments.

  Then Ellen began to speak. ‘You poor dear,’ she said. ‘I’ve never suffered like you have, nor do I have any experience with this kind of thing, much less know how to help you, yet I’d like to offer you some advice – something that I myself find useful when I’m feeling as lonely and as sad as you are. One morning, when it’s quiet and beautiful, take a walk through the wood, you know the one I mean, the one going to the heath. After you’ve walked through the heather for a while, sit down somewhere and do nothing. Just look at the sky and the trees. You’ll feel a calm come over you, and suddenly none of your problems will seem so bad that they can’t be fixed.’

  ‘Oh, no, fairy.
I doubt if that remedy of yours is going to help me any more than all the potions I’ve tried.’

  ‘Just give it a chance,’ Ellen urged her. ‘When you’re alone with nature, your troubles will seem to melt away, I’m sure they will. You’ll become thoughtful and glad and feel as if God hasn’t forsaken you after all.’

  ‘If it will make you happy, I’ll try,’ the woman replied.

  ‘Good. Well, I’d better be going. I’ll stop by at the same time next week.’

  And so Ellen went into nearly every house, cheering up the people inside, and at the end of the long day her basket was empty and her heart was full, because she felt as if her money and talents had been truly well spent, much better than on expensive clothes.

  After that day Ellen often set forth with her basket on her arm, dressed in her flowery yellow dress with a big bow in her hair. And she went into people’s homes and made all of them happy.

  The woman who had enough money and more than enough sorrow had also become much more cheerful, as Ellen knew she would. Her remedy always worked!

  As a result of all her visits, Ellen had many friends. Not just fairies and elves, but ordinary men, women and children, who told her about their lives. So Ellen got lots of experience, and before long she had a suitable answer for every problem.

  But as for her money… Well, her calculations were a bit awry, because after a year the lion’s share was gone. She now had just enough to live on.

  If you think that made Ellen sad or kept her from giving to others, you’re wrong. Ellen continued to give – not money, but good advice and loving words.

  Yes, indeed, Ellen had learned that even when you’re the only one left of a large family, you can still make your life beautiful, and that no matter how poor you are, you can still help others enjoy their inner riches.