Anne Frank's Family Page 21

  Even in this letter, he quickly changed the subject:

  I hope Bernd had the success he was hoping for. In a career like that, the path is full of pitfalls. I can never say his name without thinking of Anne. I can well imagine that Stephan wants to leave. How is his English? And his ice hockey! What is he doing? The boys are now the only ones who count as the younger generation for me … I imagine that you often picture Grandma, I remember her all the time too. And today is the anniversary of Father’s death too. You just can’t give yourself over to your thoughts, life demands more. I am sure that Leni gets along very well with her customers. And still I’m always afraid that the expenses will be too high—all the prices have skyrocketed everywhere & the household there is so big.

  Leni Elias, around sixty years old (photo credit 9.3)

  “He’s worried about my business, with everything he’s going through himself,” Leni said. “We should really be ashamed of ourselves, writing about our own problems when he has lost his wife and children. Still, we can’t pretend that everything is fine here just to protect him.”

  Leni hardly had time to think, she had so much to do, but that was the way she wanted it. Her business truly had taken off, unexpectedly, and without Frau Thomsen, whom she had hired at first only to clean up and keep an eye on the store, she would not have been able to manage, especially now that Stephan was in the hospital, with no sign of improvement. It wouldn’t have worked without Alice too. “But all of us & all our friends,” Leni wrote to Otto, “are thinking of you with the greatest love & respect for your greatness—yes, Ottel, there is no other word for it, you are a model for us & so I am trying to complain as little as possible & just do my duty for the family & everyone else. Mother is wonderful, as she always is in these crucial moments, she is at Stephan’s bedside whenever I don’t have time to be there myself.”

  Leni left the house at seven in the morning, rode her bicycle (an old one, but sturdy) to the hospital to look in on Stephan, then to her store to give instructions to Frau Thomsen, and finally to the large villa owned by Dreyfus-Brodsky, where she had been hired to appraise and sell off all the contents. It was all possible only because she knew that Alice would be at Stephan’s side for hours, taking care of him, since Erich spent almost all his time traveling around by train trying to chase down any kind of business—usually in vain. Sometimes she had to make a special effort not to show her irritation. Did she think in such moments about Ernst Schneider, and the passionate love letters he had written to her? Against his express wishes, she had not destroyed them. Why not? Out of vanity, because it flattered her to be the object of such extreme feelings? Or did she want to read them now and then to lose herself in her memories? A marriage and an affair, those are two different pairs of boots—a saying she would have often heard in Frankfurt, and might well have said to herself in Basel. If she compared the two men in her mind—Erich and Ernst—Erich would probably not have come off badly at all: he was one of those men who age attractively, he still looked very handsome, and his friendly, conciliatory personality must have been good for her, must have brought out a sort of tender pity in her even if she sometimes got annoyed at him.

  Life, in any case, was now not what they had hoped for. They did their duty as well as they could—some better, some worse—it wasn’t a question of blame. Sometimes Leni couldn’t believe how well she herself was handling all this slaving away. “Sometimes I take my head in my hands & can’t believe that it’s really me,” she wrote to her brother Otto. “Buddy got a part and we were there for his debut performance, it was good, he is almost an old hand at it, it was a small part in any case. He has to read a script on the radio too & this winter he will probably be busy all the time. Erich fasted. Stephan is leaning toward being a little more religious, everyone does what they want here. I closed the shop on the holidays.”

  It took more than two weeks for Otto’s letter to finally reach Leni. Stephan was not much improved in the meantime—the doctors had not gotten his sepsis under control and did not rule out the possibility of needing to operate after all. “Dearest Lunni,” Otto wrote:

  I just received your letter of the 4th/5th and am really worried about Stephan’s condition. What terrible extra worry for you all and for Mom. Personally, I am shutting it out as much as I possibly can and am doing my best to bear up under my own fate. But you know how I always saw it as my task to help the “living” and do something for them and so I’m now thinking more about Stephan than about my two dear Butzens. You can’t let yourself get depressed or else you can’t do anything. I can picture Mom perfectly well, even though she is 80. If only the boy doesn’t suffer too much and everything turns out fine, I still see him in my mind as a young boy, soft and a little dreamy. I’m sure you’re right with your comparison between them and my children. I have so much to tell you. I inquired about my passport yesterday and next week I am traveling to The Hague to try to resolve the situation more quickly. I very much hope and think I’ll be able to come in November.

  I haven’t heard anything from Herb and Rob in a long time, but Julius and Walter write a lot. The packages from the U.S.A. take a long time to get here, and the main packages from London, from June, still aren’t here. Your things were wonderful, as I wrote already … I was with Hanneli for the New Year [Rosh Hashanah]. I probably won’t go to synagogue for the Day of Atonement [Yom Kippur] either. There is no Reform service yet—if there was, I would have gone—and I have nothing to do with the other kind. I know that Edith didn’t think so narrowly. She also never wanted me to fast and she knew that I went only for her sake. With her or the children I would have gone, but alone it’s pointless and hypocritical. I will stay home and I have definite plans that I’ll write and tell you about later. Mom knows my views about this and she doesn’t need to act any differently from how she is. It all has to stay on the inside and our feelings are no less strong for that … I am amazed at your business abilities. I only hope that you’re also happy doing it. And I can picture exactly how you treat your customers! You always did like to have lots of people around you and a set routine.

  Now first the boy has to get better. I’m anxious and in suspense waiting for further news.

  Alice took affectionate care of Stephan but otherwise withdrew more and more into herself. Leni felt that her mother was visibly aging by the day. And not only her—Grandma Ida seemed to get more inconspicuous every day, more like a shadow than a living person. Every morning she stood in front of the house and waited for the mailman, and when once again the mail brought no news of Paul, she quietly went upstairs and looked for something to do. Leni no longer thought that Paul would come back, and Erich’s doubts were growing too; even Otto had written: “I have hardly any hope left for Paul and I don’t believe the reports that there are still lots of people with the Russians.” They didn’t know what Grandma Ida was really thinking—no one dared to talk with her about it. At least she was healthy, just like Alice, who had nothing worse than trouble climbing the stairs. At least Leni didn’t have to worry about the state of her mother’s health—which was a relief, she certainly had enough else on her mind. In one way or another, everyone on Herbstgasse was preoccupied with themselves, with their own fears and worries. And with waiting for their son, their brother, their brother-in-law, their uncle.

  Alice Frank at about eighty, on the garden steps of the house on Herbstgasse (photo credit 9.4)

  Otto wrote that he had no doubt he’d be able to come, but they had to be patient:

  Everything takes such a long time, I have to wait three weeks before I’m even admitted to see the authorities. Then they start their investigation into whether I can be trusted politically, but since I was in a camp and have excellent references besides, that should all be a formality. But it still has to happen. I can imagine how Mom is waiting, but I’m waiting too. She is certainly a great help for you again, despite her age, and still does so much. I can’t even imagine it.

  Julius wrote that he faste
d too, I can see what a great support religion gives people, but there’s nothing there for me. If Stephan is so inclined, he should definitely read more about Jewish ethics, it’s very interesting to me too.

  It’s easy for me to imagine Buddy onstage. I found in Anne’s diary the description of a waltz on ice that she performed with him in a dream. What I read there is indescribably upsetting, but still I read it. I can’t describe it to you, I’m not done reading it yet and want to finish reading through the whole thing before I make any excerpts or translations. Among other things, she describes her feelings in puberty with unbelievable self-awareness and self-criticism. Even if it wasn’t Anne who had written it, it would still be so moving. What a terrible shame that this life was snuffed out! I will have hours and hours of stories to tell you when I come visit.

  “I don’t know if it’s good for him to read the girl’s diary,” Erich said, and Leni secretly agreed. Spending time with what his daughter had written must be upsetting him, must be tearing open all the wounds again. But she preferred to keep her opinion to herself.

  It wasn’t long before Otto wrote again about Anne’s diary. First he told the family about the packages he had received from Julius and Robert:

  It’s very fine that I now have a raincoat, since you need one here all the time … I went to the synagogue yesterday for Purim. Anne and Margot always used to participate, even in Aachen. On the outside I was smiling, on the inside I wept. I can’t stay away from Anne’s diaries and they are so unbelievably moving. I’m having her book of stories copied now since I don’t want to let the only copy out of my hands, and I’ll translate some things into German for you. I can’t let the diaries out of my hands, there is too much in them that is not intended for anyone else, but I’ll make excerpts. In my letters I don’t say much about Berndt, but that doesn’t mean that I’m [not] thinking of him and his work. It’s only that we have to deal with Stephan at the moment. I have to set aside some time to answer Erich properly and it’s amazing how little free time I actually have. It’s a fact that there’s quite a number of people stuck in the Russian zone, so we have to keep our hopes up for Paul. Warmest greetings to all of you, and all my thoughts. I’m doing everything I can to come soon.

  “I’m doing everything I can to come soon,” Alice repeated. She looked pale and exhausted, but this sentence seemed to revive her. Leni reached out a hand for the bell hanging above the table, and when Imperia opened the door, Leni asked her to make a peppermint tea for her mother. Alice looked at her. “The war has been over for almost half a year already,” she said. “Why won’t they let him visit his family? He doesn’t have anyone else left.”

  “I’m sure he’ll manage to be here for your and Stephan’s birthday,” Leni reassured her. But Alice shook her head. Leni knew that Alice was in no mood to celebrate anything, she just wanted to see her son.

  Otto sent Buddy a copy of a page from Anne’s diary, of October 18, 1942:

  Bernd is busy teaching me figure skating and I am going to be his partner because his partner happens to be away, we make a lovely pair and everyone is mad about us we sent five photographs to the office 1 Anne doing a turn 2 Anne arm in arm with Bernd left foot forwards 3 Anne waltzing with Bernd 4 Anne with Bernd doing the swan 5 Anne from the left, Bernd from the right blowing a kiss to each other. There will be a film later for Holland and Switzerland, my girl friends in both Holland and Switzerland think it’s great. It’s in three parts.

  1st part. Anne on skates.

  First you see her entering from one side while her partner enters from the other side with a blue skating dress trimmed with white fur with zipped pockets and a zipper and a belt with a bag.

  Then they do the swan together and Anne does a tremendous leap in the air. Later they waltz and joke about the lessons.

  2nd part. Anne making a visit and at school. Busy at the tea table in the small room with Kitty and two boys including Bernd then at school surrounded by a noisy crowd of children and all sorts of silly scenes e.g. in bed with Daddy and at table.

  3rd part. Anne’s wardrobe the 8 new dresses skating dress which is a present a white one and shoes.2

  Buddy gulped as he read what his little cousin had written, and when he looked at the awkward little drawing. Anne was nine the last time he saw her and thirteen when she wrote this page—a child, with a child’s dreams. She would have been sixteen now, he couldn’t imagine it. He thought about the sixteen-year-old girls he knew, who were definitely no longer children, and felt rage inside him, a helpless fury over the fact that he would never know how Anne would have looked at sixteen, would never know how she would have danced.

  Anne’s diary entry, October 18, 1942 (photo credit 9.5)

  He loved to dance himself and took every opportunity that offered itself. There were afternoon dances at teatime at several local establishments, and some nights he also went to the Regina Bar, where many American GIs used to go as well. The soldiers came from nearby Germany to spend their leave in Switzerland and brought lots of new dances from back home, like boogie and swing, that Europe had never seen before. Anne would surely have liked dancing as much as he did; as children they had always liked the same games, rough games that Margot and Stephan didn’t join, since they felt too big for such child’s play. “Do you remember the set of cards I drew for Anne that time?” he asked.

  Leni smiled. “Yes, of course. It was in Sils-Maria. She was very happy with them and kept showing them to everyone.”

  They were playing cards with pictures of the members of the Elias and Frank families. Next to Anne’s picture, Buddy had written, “Anne the rascal.” “She laughed at that,” Buddy said now. “She laughed loud, she clapped her hands and hopped all around me.” That is how she would always remain in his memory: a slightly gawky, sprightly, imaginative child whose admiration he enjoyed. Would she still have looked up to him? He would never know. Grief at his loss tightened his throat. He handed Leni the letter without a word, for her to read out loud, and silently left the room. Leni heard him go upstairs and then heard the sound of his door shutting. She knew that now he would lie in bed and stare up at the ceiling until his eyes hurt.

  “Read it,” Alice said.

  Buddy’s sets of cards for the two families

  A. Elias Family (photo credit 9.6)

  Buddi: Jealous sometimes

  Stephan: Short-tempered

  Maleni: Very angry sometimes

  Pa-Erich: Great cleanliness

  B. Frank Family (photo credit 9.7)

  Robo: Great poet

  I.: “Go to bed, go to bed,” otherwise great

  Herbi: Is always in a good mood

  Otto: Hardworking businessman

  C. Otto Frank Family (photo credit 9.8)

  Edith: The good mother

  Anne: The rascal

  Otto: Good head of the family

  Margot: Doesn’t let you kiss her

  Stephan needed an operation after all. Leni stayed at the hospital until the doctor told her that it had gone well, and returned home only after she saw her boy in person. The next day, Alice showed her the letter she was planning to send to Otto. Stephan’s condition seemed hopeful, she had written. There were still “ups & downs,” she wrote in English, but things were improving. It was just a month earlier that the doctors had given the family little hope for him. Then she turned to Anne’s diary. Otto had apparently sent them a few excerpts.

  I can’t tell you how much the lines from Annelein’s diary mean to me & to everyone here. They are so darling & so incredibly insightful, I read them constantly & they put me right into the thoughts and feelings of that sweet, warmhearted child. I have the little picture with Grandma Holländer too, up til now I was too sad to look at it, maybe that wasn’t right but all the same I just couldn’t. How terrible that we didn’t find any more of Margot’s writing, but maybe she didn’t have the same gift of expressing herself & kept her feelings more to herself. We’ll have so much to talk about about the childre
n, Edith was a quiet type, but so infinitely good & considerate. There are pages and pages of things to write but I don’t want to, it gets me so worked up & I have to keep a hold of myself. I sent a telegram to Robert yesterday with the good news, I wrote him a few days ago. I also want to write Herbie for his birthday, you know his two last birthdays were spent here with us, we miss him very much. But he is working now and that counts for a lot. Leni worked very hard the employer was very satisfied and tomorrow morning she is off again, to Zurich & she hopes to be able to make some money there too … Bernd has a lot planned but everything is still up in the air & he is still hoping.

  Stephan recovered slowly, and the bodily injury would stay with him for the rest of his life. His days playing his beloved ice hockey were over. For a young man so enthusiastic about sports it was of course a hard blow, but Leni didn’t care as much about the sports, she was just glad that he had survived the sepsis. “It’s thanks to this new medicine, thanks to penicillin”—that’s what the doctors emphasized over and over again.

  Leni traveled to Zurich four or five times a week. It wasn’t easy for her, though she was happy to have these new assignments. Even in Switzerland the first few years after the war were hard, you had to scramble for every penny, nothing was given to you without a lot of hard work, and she was responsible for a lot of people. Erich earned hardly anything, Stephan was sick, and Buddy hadn’t found an engagement yet; then there were the two old women, who brought in no income at all, and Imperia the housekeeper. A letter Leni wrote to Otto shows how hard it was for her at times: “I never complained, about anything at all, it’s only the cold that I really don’t like. My business started doing better in the last few months & I used to have a business, now it has me. But I just keep going.”