Saturday, June 21, 2008
.. waiting for death ..
Wednesday, 13 January 1943
Amsterdam, in a hidden Annexe to a house; shelter provided by a Dutch family
Dearest Kitty (name of my diary),
Terrible things are happening outside. At any time of night and day, poor helpless people are being dragged ______ of their homes. They’re allowed to take only a rucksack and a little cash with them, and even _______, they’re robbed of these __________ on the way. Families are torn apart; men, women and children are separated. Children come home from school to _______ that their parents have disappeared. Women return from shopping to find their houses sealed, their families gone. The Christians in Holland are also living in _______ because their sons are being sent to Germany. Everyone is scared. Every night hundreds of planes pass over Holland on their way to German cities, to sow their bombs on German soil. Every hour hundreds, or maybe even thousands, of people are being killed in Russia and Africa. No one can keep out of the _______, the entire world is at war, and even though the Allies are doing better, the end is nowhere in sight.
So for us, we’re quite _______. Luckier than millions of people. It’s quiet and safe here, and we’re using our money to buy food. We’re so _______ that we talk about ‘after the war’ and look forward to new clothes and shoes, when actually we should be _______ every penny to help others when the war is over, to salvage whatever we can.
The children in this neighbourhood run around in thin shirts and wooden clogs. They have no coats, no socks, no caps and no one to help them. Gnawing on a carrot to still their hunger ________, they walk from their cold houses through cold streets to an even ______ classroom. Things have got so bad in Holland that hordes of children stop passers-by in the streets to beg for a piece of bread.
I could spend hours telling you about the suffering the war has ______, but I’d only make myself more miserable. All we can do is wait, as calmly as possible, for it to end. Jews and Christians alike are waiting, the whole world is waiting, and ______ are waiting for death.
Yours, Anne ( Anne Frank, 13 years old)
Answers:
Amsterdam, in a hidden Annexe to a house; shelter provided by a Dutch family
Dearest Kitty (name of my diary),
Terrible things are happening outside. At any time of night and day, poor helpless people are being dragged ______ of their homes. They’re allowed to take only a rucksack and a little cash with them, and even _______, they’re robbed of these __________ on the way. Families are torn apart; men, women and children are separated. Children come home from school to _______ that their parents have disappeared. Women return from shopping to find their houses sealed, their families gone. The Christians in Holland are also living in _______ because their sons are being sent to Germany. Everyone is scared. Every night hundreds of planes pass over Holland on their way to German cities, to sow their bombs on German soil. Every hour hundreds, or maybe even thousands, of people are being killed in Russia and Africa. No one can keep out of the _______, the entire world is at war, and even though the Allies are doing better, the end is nowhere in sight.
So for us, we’re quite _______. Luckier than millions of people. It’s quiet and safe here, and we’re using our money to buy food. We’re so _______ that we talk about ‘after the war’ and look forward to new clothes and shoes, when actually we should be _______ every penny to help others when the war is over, to salvage whatever we can.
The children in this neighbourhood run around in thin shirts and wooden clogs. They have no coats, no socks, no caps and no one to help them. Gnawing on a carrot to still their hunger ________, they walk from their cold houses through cold streets to an even ______ classroom. Things have got so bad in Holland that hordes of children stop passers-by in the streets to beg for a piece of bread.
I could spend hours telling you about the suffering the war has ______, but I’d only make myself more miserable. All we can do is wait, as calmly as possible, for it to end. Jews and Christians alike are waiting, the whole world is waiting, and ______ are waiting for death.
Yours, Anne ( Anne Frank, 13 years old)
Answers:
Tuesday, June 17, 2008
Anne Frank - Chatterbox
This is a cloze passage from "Anne Frank - the Diary of a Young Girl", enjoy:
P 11
I get along pretty ______ with all my teachers. There are nine of ______, seven men and two women. Mr Keesing, the old fogey who teaches maths, was ________ with me for ages because I talked so much. After several warnings, he _________ me extra homework. An essay on the subject ‘A Chatterbox’. A chatterbox, what can you write about that? I’d worry about that later, I decided. I jotted down the title in my notebook, tucked it in my bag and tried to keep _______.
That evening, after I’d finished the rest of my homework, the note about the essay ________ my eye. I began thinking about the subject while ________ the tip of my fountain pen. Anyone could ramble on and leave big spaces between the words, but the trick was to come up with convincing _________ to prove the necessity of talking. I thought and thought, and suddenly I had an idea. I wrote the three pages Mr Keesing had assigned me and was satisfied. I _______ that talking is a female trait and that I would do my best to keep it under ________, but that I would never be able to ____ myself of the habit, since my mother talked as much as I did, if not more, and that there’s not much you can do about _______ traits.
Mr Keesing had a good laugh at my arguments, but when I _________ to talk my way through the next lesson, he assigned me a second essay. This time it was supposed to be on ‘An Incorrigible Chatterbox’. I handed it in, and Mr Keesing had nothing to complain about for two ______ lessons. However, during the third lesson he’d finally ____ enough. ‘Anne Frank, as punishment for talking in class, write an essay entitled “’Quack, Quack, Quack,’ Said Mistress Chatterback”.’
The class roared, I had to laugh too, though I’d nearly exhausted my ingenuity on the topic of chatterboxes. It was time to come up with something else, something ________. My friend Sanne, who’s good at poetry, offered to help me write the essay from beginning to end in verse. I ________ for joy. Keesing was trying to play a joke on me with this ridiculous subject, but I’d make sure the joke was on him.
I finished my poem, and it was beautiful! It was about a mother duck and a father swan with three baby ducklings who were bitten to death by the father because they __________ too much. Luckily, Keesing took the joke the right way. He read the poem to the class, adding his own comments, and to several other classes as well. Since then I’ve been allowed to talk and haven’t been assigned any extra homework. One the contrary, Keesing’s always ________ jokes these days.
P 11
I get along pretty ______ with all my teachers. There are nine of ______, seven men and two women. Mr Keesing, the old fogey who teaches maths, was ________ with me for ages because I talked so much. After several warnings, he _________ me extra homework. An essay on the subject ‘A Chatterbox’. A chatterbox, what can you write about that? I’d worry about that later, I decided. I jotted down the title in my notebook, tucked it in my bag and tried to keep _______.
That evening, after I’d finished the rest of my homework, the note about the essay ________ my eye. I began thinking about the subject while ________ the tip of my fountain pen. Anyone could ramble on and leave big spaces between the words, but the trick was to come up with convincing _________ to prove the necessity of talking. I thought and thought, and suddenly I had an idea. I wrote the three pages Mr Keesing had assigned me and was satisfied. I _______ that talking is a female trait and that I would do my best to keep it under ________, but that I would never be able to ____ myself of the habit, since my mother talked as much as I did, if not more, and that there’s not much you can do about _______ traits.
Mr Keesing had a good laugh at my arguments, but when I _________ to talk my way through the next lesson, he assigned me a second essay. This time it was supposed to be on ‘An Incorrigible Chatterbox’. I handed it in, and Mr Keesing had nothing to complain about for two ______ lessons. However, during the third lesson he’d finally ____ enough. ‘Anne Frank, as punishment for talking in class, write an essay entitled “’Quack, Quack, Quack,’ Said Mistress Chatterback”.’
The class roared, I had to laugh too, though I’d nearly exhausted my ingenuity on the topic of chatterboxes. It was time to come up with something else, something ________. My friend Sanne, who’s good at poetry, offered to help me write the essay from beginning to end in verse. I ________ for joy. Keesing was trying to play a joke on me with this ridiculous subject, but I’d make sure the joke was on him.
I finished my poem, and it was beautiful! It was about a mother duck and a father swan with three baby ducklings who were bitten to death by the father because they __________ too much. Luckily, Keesing took the joke the right way. He read the poem to the class, adding his own comments, and to several other classes as well. Since then I’ve been allowed to talk and haven’t been assigned any extra homework. One the contrary, Keesing’s always ________ jokes these days.
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