Perspective

February 12, 1944

The sun is shining, the sky is deep blue, there's a magnificent breeze, and I'm longing--really longing --for everything: conversation, freedom, friends, being alone...I'm restless. I walk from one room to another, breathe through the crack in the window frame, feel my heart beating as if to say, "Fulfill my longing at last. . ."

Anne Frank and seven others lived in the Secret Annex for two years. I've read her words aloud to my students for several years, and I spent a good portion of the morning rereading some entries. There's so much about her day-to-day that rings true now--the worries, boredom, quarrels, and repair. Sounds of someone sneezing or the creaking of a door handle are amplified in close quarters. She is anchored by her writing, dreams for her future and consoled by a bowl of blackberries and her love for Peter. I'm anchored by writing and video chats and consoled by chocolate chip cookies and my love for those sitting around our dinner table every evening.

And thankfully, there's so much of her story that is a world away from our reality. Like Anne, I'm grateful to glimpse my favorite tree outside my window, but I may also walk outside to wrap my arms around its silvery bark. My fears and worries are not exacerbated by hate and persecution, human suffering caused by an unfathomable evil. I can call loved ones on the phone and talk with my neighbors, albeit 6 feet apart. I can laugh out loud, sing, or scream. I can lace up my running shoes and run away for a while. 

The air is warm today as it blows my back door open wide.