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安妮·弗兰克是一名普通的犹太少女，但也是其中一位最广为人知的纳粹受害者。安妮·弗兰克一生短暂，却因其感人至深的日记被世人记住。在安妮·弗兰克的生忌（6月12日），我们将带大家到访安妮的故居，缅怀这位曾经的花季少女，铭记那段不堪回首的历史。
Courage…strength…inspiration…heartbreak…
These are the words that come straight into my mind when I think about Anne Frank and her diary.
I first read the diary when I was in primary school, and again when I was in high school. Ten years later, I knew what it was about, but I couldn’t remember the emotions I felt reading it. Perhaps I had been too young.
Before I went for a holiday in Europe, I decided to read the diary again. I knew I would be visiting the house in Amsterdam, and I wanted that experience to really mean something. I spent my mornings and afternoons on the train to and from work, reading about the life and death of Anne Frank. I was once again 1)captivated by her 2)innocence, the terror she experienced and the 3)trauma of her family and her life underground.
I put myself into her place and lived the moments in my mind, imagining what I would do in certain situations. I also allowed myself to feel emotions towards Anne and her family. I got angry at her mother, I admired her
father and I loved Peter Van Pels as she did. I wanted the
moment that I stepped into her house in Amsterdam to be truly unique. It was.
The house is located next to a canal, just a short walk from the Central Station. Standing outside, I looked around at the street Anne and her sister Margot stared at through closed curtains. I saw the road where Anne had described seeing soldiers patrolling and Jews
4)fleeing, terrified, to escape the war.
Where she saw friends and neighbors taken away by the army, marching towards certain death, I saw people dressed in clothes Anne dreamed of
owning, faces as beautiful as the pictures she cut from
magazines and posted on her walls, laughter and smiles as friends shared stories and tourists 5)scoured the streets in search of history.
As Anne looked onto these streets during the
heartache of World War II, she could never have imagined the happiness the people are blessed with today. The streets were filled with traffic – cars, buses, bikes –
taking people to destinations of enjoyment. On the rare occasions Anne was able to 6)sneak a look outside, the only cars she saw were military; buses were full with Jews on their way to 7)concentration camps; and those on bikes were simply there in a failed attempt to escape.
But looking at the streets outside the house was nothing compared to being inside.
The house is built in two sections and is four stories high, with an 8)attic. The back section of the two top floors became the secret 9)annex, where Anne and her family, the Van Pelses and Fritz Pfeffer spent 25 months of their lives.
They lived there until they were 10)captured in August 1944. It was an 11)anonymous telephone
call to the 12)authorities which led to their
whereabouts. The true 13)identity of the
14)betrayer will never be known. Those hidden were all 15)deported and sent to 16)extermination camps, where all but one died.
Otto Frank, Anne’s father, was the only
survivor (Anne died from 17)typhus in March 1945 in the northern German concentration camp Bergen-Belsen. She was just 15 years old). Otto was found by the Russian Army at Auschwitz and upon recovery, learned of the death of his wife and children. After the war, Anne’s diary was found 18)strewn across the office floor, where it was picked up and hidden away. It resurfaced many years later and was given to her father.
The annex has remained in its 19)authentic state. It was officially opened as a museum in 1960.
I was speechless as I walked the same
20)corridors and staircases that Anne and her family had walked. I had tears in my eyes as I stepped through the worn bookcase, which served as a secret door to the annex. And my heart 21)pounded as I made my way into the 22)makeshift
bedrooms. Although empty now, I was able to picture what they must have looked like, and I couldn’t 23)comprehend how each
person survived for 25 months in such extreme conditions. I guess it was nothing compared to life in concentration camps.
Had I walked into the secret annex where Anne Frank and her family lived without reading the book beforehand, I don’t think I would have truly understood what it meant to be there.
I would never have felt such 24)despair walking into the rooms that served as the kitchen, bathroom and bedrooms; I wouldn’t have cared that there was barely enough space to fit a desk, let alone two or three beds; and I wouldn’t have felt my heart pound as I
remembered how scared Anne had been as she wrote about the view from the window or listened to the news on the radio.
As I walked through the annex, I thought about how hard it must have been for Otto Frank to 25)pack up his family and hide them from the world for more than two years: to stop his daughters from going out to play – from even looking out the window to feel the sunlight on their faces. I can’t imagine how painful it must have been for him to watch as the shine slowly faded from the eyes of those he loved the most, knowing he was unable to help them.
I thought about Peter and Margot, and wondered what might have happened to them had they survived the war. But mostly, I thought about Anne and how she experienced hell 26)first-hand, yet through her diary, she has made so many people smile.
She was a young girl who dreamed of becoming a journalist, but she lived and died in an unfortunate time. Her writing has since inspired hundreds, and her words have touched even the hardest of hearts.
Through her 27)adversity, the world has learned that life is
sometimes cruel. Hopefully, we have also learned that although at times life may be tough, we should appreciate what we have, because there will always be people who live their lives in a secret annex.
勇气、力量、鼓舞、悲恸……
一想起安妮·弗兰克和她的《安妮日记》，我的心头就会浮现出这些字眼。
我第一次读这本日记时还在上小学，念高中时又看了一遍。直到十年后，我才理解这本书的内容，但我已经记不清当时读它的感觉了。也许那时的我还太小了。
去欧洲度假之前，我决定再读一遍《安妮日记》。我知道自己将会参观阿姆斯特丹的安妮故居，希望不虚此行。于是每天早晚，我都会趁着坐列车上下班的时间重温一遍安妮·弗兰克的生与死。她的纯真、她的恐怖经历、其家庭所遭受的创伤，还有那暗无天日的生活再一次紧紧扣住了我的心弦。
我设身处地体验她经历过的生活，想象着在那些情况下自己会如何反应，体会自己对安妮和她家人所产生的情感。安妮的母亲令我感到气愤，但我敬佩她的父亲，也像安妮一样喜欢
彼得·凡·佩尔斯。我希望踏进阿姆斯特丹的安妮故居那一刻是独一无二的。事实的确如此。
安妮故居坐落在一条运河边，从中央车站走不远就到了。我站在屋外，端详安妮和她姐姐玛戈透过紧闭的窗帘所窥见的街道。我看到安妮描写的路——士兵在那里巡逻，惊恐的犹太人奔走逃亡。
在安妮目睹其朋友和邻居被军队抓走而步向死亡的地方，我现在看到的是穿着她梦寐以求的服饰的人们。我看见他们的脸庞美丽得犹如安妮从杂志上剪下粘在墙上的图画，三五知己谈笑风生，游客穿街走巷探寻历史。
在二战的恐怖岁月里，当安妮看着这些街道时，她不会想到今天人们所享有的幸福。今天的马路车水马龙，汽车、公车和自行车川流不息，忙着把人们送到享乐的地方。而那时候，安妮偶尔也能偷偷瞥一眼屋外的世界，但她看到的车无非是军车，满载犹太人的公车正开往集中营，而骑着自行车的人不过是在徒劳地逃生。
然而，站在屋外街道上的观感与进入屋里是不能相提并论的。
安妮的故居分成两部分，共有四层楼高，还有一个小阁楼。顶上两层楼的后半部分成了一间密室。就是在这里，安妮和她家人，还有凡·佩尔斯一家、富利兹·费弗共同度过了25个月的时光。
直到1944年8月被捕之前，他们一直住在这里。一个匿名电话向当局供出了他们藏身之地，而这个叛徒的真实身份再也无从得知。躲在里面的人都被遣送到灭绝营，仅有一人幸存。
安妮的父亲奥托·弗兰克便是这个唯一的幸存者（安妮于1945年3月因伤寒死于德国北部的贝尔根-贝尔森集中营，年仅15岁）。俄军在奥斯威辛找到奥托。在康复期间，他得知妻子和孩子们的死讯。战后，安妮的日记被发现散落在原办公室的地板上，有人把它收好并保管起来。多年后这些日记重见天日，并被交给了安妮的父亲。
安妮居住过的密室今天仍然维持原貌，并于1960年作为博物馆正式对公众开放。
穿过安妮和其家人曾走过的走廊和楼梯时，我已经说不出话来。穿过那个作为密室之门的破旧书架时，我不禁泪水盈眶。步入他们的临时卧室，我的心砰砰狂跳。虽然这些房间现在空无一物，但我仍能想象出当时的模样，却无法设想当时他们如何能在这样极端恶劣的条件下生活了整整25个月。不过，我想这里的日子再怎么差也比差不过在集中营里的生活吧。
如果在走入安妮·弗兰克和她家人居住过的密室之前，我没有读过《安妮日记》，我想我不会真正理解来这里的意义。
在走进这些被当作厨房、浴室和卧室的房间时，我将不会感到如此绝望；也不会在意这里的空间几乎连一张书桌都摆不下，更别说容下两三张床；想起安妮描写她看到窗外的景象或听到广播新闻时有多么害怕，我的心也将不会跳动得如此剧烈。
走在密室中，我想到了奥托·弗兰克让他的家人藏身密室度过两年多与世隔绝的生活，这对他而言该是何等艰难啊：他不能让女儿出去玩，甚至不能让她们眺望窗外，让阳光洒在脸上。我无法想象当他看着生命的光彩从他至爱的亲人脸上渐渐消失而自己却无能为力时，他有多么痛苦。
我想到了彼得和玛戈。如果他们逃过了这场战争的劫难，不知道他们的命运会如何。但我想得最多的，还是安妮，我想起她在亲历这样的人间地狱之后，仍然通过她的日记给许许多多的人带来
欢笑。
她是一个梦想成为记者的小女孩，却在一个不幸的时代度过了生与死。她的作品一直激励着无数人，铁石心肠也会被她的语言融化。
从安妮的劫难中，世人读懂了生活有时是多么残酷。幸运的是，我们也明白了虽然生活时有艰辛，但我们更应该珍惜我们所拥有的东西，因为总会有人生活在暗无天日的密室中。
Courage…strength…inspiration…heartbreak…
These are the words that come straight into my mind when I think about Anne Frank and her diary.
I first read the diary when I was in primary school, and again when I was in high school. Ten years later, I knew what it was about, but I couldn’t remember the emotions I felt reading it. Perhaps I had been too young.
Before I went for a holiday in Europe, I decided to read the diary again. I knew I would be visiting the house in Amsterdam, and I wanted that experience to really mean something. I spent my mornings and afternoons on the train to and from work, reading about the life and death of Anne Frank. I was once again 1)captivated by her 2)innocence, the terror she experienced and the 3)trauma of her family and her life underground.
I put myself into her place and lived the moments in my mind, imagining what I would do in certain situations. I also allowed myself to feel emotions towards Anne and her family. I got angry at her mother, I admired her
father and I loved Peter Van Pels as she did. I wanted the
moment that I stepped into her house in Amsterdam to be truly unique. It was.
The house is located next to a canal, just a short walk from the Central Station. Standing outside, I looked around at the street Anne and her sister Margot stared at through closed curtains. I saw the road where Anne had described seeing soldiers patrolling and Jews
4)fleeing, terrified, to escape the war.
Where she saw friends and neighbors taken away by the army, marching towards certain death, I saw people dressed in clothes Anne dreamed of
owning, faces as beautiful as the pictures she cut from
magazines and posted on her walls, laughter and smiles as friends shared stories and tourists 5)scoured the streets in search of history.
As Anne looked onto these streets during the
heartache of World War II, she could never have imagined the happiness the people are blessed with today. The streets were filled with traffic – cars, buses, bikes –
taking people to destinations of enjoyment. On the rare occasions Anne was able to 6)sneak a look outside, the only cars she saw were military; buses were full with Jews on their way to 7)concentration camps; and those on bikes were simply there in a failed attempt to escape.
But looking at the streets outside the house was nothing compared to being inside.
The house is built in two sections and is four stories high, with an 8)attic. The back section of the two top floors became the secret 9)annex, where Anne and her family, the Van Pelses and Fritz Pfeffer spent 25 months of their lives.
They lived there until they were 10)captured in August 1944. It was an 11)anonymous telephone
call to the 12)authorities which led to their
whereabouts. The true 13)identity of the
14)betrayer will never be known. Those hidden were all 15)deported and sent to 16)extermination camps, where all but one died.
Otto Frank, Anne’s father, was the only
survivor (Anne died from 17)typhus in March 1945 in the northern German concentration camp Bergen-Belsen. She was just 15 years old). Otto was found by the Russian Army at Auschwitz and upon recovery, learned of the death of his wife and children. After the war, Anne’s diary was found 18)strewn across the office floor, where it was picked up and hidden away. It resurfaced many years later and was given to her father.
The annex has remained in its 19)authentic state. It was officially opened as a museum in 1960.
I was speechless as I walked the same
20)corridors and staircases that Anne and her family had walked. I had tears in my eyes as I stepped through the worn bookcase, which served as a secret door to the annex. And my heart 21)pounded as I made my way into the 22)makeshift
bedrooms. Although empty now, I was able to picture what they must have looked like, and I couldn’t 23)comprehend how each
person survived for 25 months in such extreme conditions. I guess it was nothing compared to life in concentration camps.
Had I walked into the secret annex where Anne Frank and her family lived without reading the book beforehand, I don’t think I would have truly understood what it meant to be there.
I would never have felt such 24)despair walking into the rooms that served as the kitchen, bathroom and bedrooms; I wouldn’t have cared that there was barely enough space to fit a desk, let alone two or three beds; and I wouldn’t have felt my heart pound as I
remembered how scared Anne had been as she wrote about the view from the window or listened to the news on the radio.
As I walked through the annex, I thought about how hard it must have been for Otto Frank to 25)pack up his family and hide them from the world for more than two years: to stop his daughters from going out to play – from even looking out the window to feel the sunlight on their faces. I can’t imagine how painful it must have been for him to watch as the shine slowly faded from the eyes of those he loved the most, knowing he was unable to help them.
I thought about Peter and Margot, and wondered what might have happened to them had they survived the war. But mostly, I thought about Anne and how she experienced hell 26)first-hand, yet through her diary, she has made so many people smile.
She was a young girl who dreamed of becoming a journalist, but she lived and died in an unfortunate time. Her writing has since inspired hundreds, and her words have touched even the hardest of hearts.
Through her 27)adversity, the world has learned that life is
sometimes cruel. Hopefully, we have also learned that although at times life may be tough, we should appreciate what we have, because there will always be people who live their lives in a secret annex.
勇气、力量、鼓舞、悲恸……
一想起安妮·弗兰克和她的《安妮日记》，我的心头就会浮现出这些字眼。
我第一次读这本日记时还在上小学，念高中时又看了一遍。直到十年后，我才理解这本书的内容，但我已经记不清当时读它的感觉了。也许那时的我还太小了。
去欧洲度假之前，我决定再读一遍《安妮日记》。我知道自己将会参观阿姆斯特丹的安妮故居，希望不虚此行。于是每天早晚，我都会趁着坐列车上下班的时间重温一遍安妮·弗兰克的生与死。她的纯真、她的恐怖经历、其家庭所遭受的创伤，还有那暗无天日的生活再一次紧紧扣住了我的心弦。
我设身处地体验她经历过的生活，想象着在那些情况下自己会如何反应，体会自己对安妮和她家人所产生的情感。安妮的母亲令我感到气愤，但我敬佩她的父亲，也像安妮一样喜欢
彼得·凡·佩尔斯。我希望踏进阿姆斯特丹的安妮故居那一刻是独一无二的。事实的确如此。
安妮故居坐落在一条运河边，从中央车站走不远就到了。我站在屋外，端详安妮和她姐姐玛戈透过紧闭的窗帘所窥见的街道。我看到安妮描写的路——士兵在那里巡逻，惊恐的犹太人奔走逃亡。
在安妮目睹其朋友和邻居被军队抓走而步向死亡的地方，我现在看到的是穿着她梦寐以求的服饰的人们。我看见他们的脸庞美丽得犹如安妮从杂志上剪下粘在墙上的图画，三五知己谈笑风生，游客穿街走巷探寻历史。
在二战的恐怖岁月里，当安妮看着这些街道时，她不会想到今天人们所享有的幸福。今天的马路车水马龙，汽车、公车和自行车川流不息，忙着把人们送到享乐的地方。而那时候，安妮偶尔也能偷偷瞥一眼屋外的世界，但她看到的车无非是军车，满载犹太人的公车正开往集中营，而骑着自行车的人不过是在徒劳地逃生。
然而，站在屋外街道上的观感与进入屋里是不能相提并论的。
安妮的故居分成两部分，共有四层楼高，还有一个小阁楼。顶上两层楼的后半部分成了一间密室。就是在这里，安妮和她家人，还有凡·佩尔斯一家、富利兹·费弗共同度过了25个月的时光。
直到1944年8月被捕之前，他们一直住在这里。一个匿名电话向当局供出了他们藏身之地，而这个叛徒的真实身份再也无从得知。躲在里面的人都被遣送到灭绝营，仅有一人幸存。
安妮的父亲奥托·弗兰克便是这个唯一的幸存者（安妮于1945年3月因伤寒死于德国北部的贝尔根-贝尔森集中营，年仅15岁）。俄军在奥斯威辛找到奥托。在康复期间，他得知妻子和孩子们的死讯。战后，安妮的日记被发现散落在原办公室的地板上，有人把它收好并保管起来。多年后这些日记重见天日，并被交给了安妮的父亲。
安妮居住过的密室今天仍然维持原貌，并于1960年作为博物馆正式对公众开放。
穿过安妮和其家人曾走过的走廊和楼梯时，我已经说不出话来。穿过那个作为密室之门的破旧书架时，我不禁泪水盈眶。步入他们的临时卧室，我的心砰砰狂跳。虽然这些房间现在空无一物，但我仍能想象出当时的模样，却无法设想当时他们如何能在这样极端恶劣的条件下生活了整整25个月。不过，我想这里的日子再怎么差也比差不过在集中营里的生活吧。
如果在走入安妮·弗兰克和她家人居住过的密室之前，我没有读过《安妮日记》，我想我不会真正理解来这里的意义。
在走进这些被当作厨房、浴室和卧室的房间时，我将不会感到如此绝望；也不会在意这里的空间几乎连一张书桌都摆不下，更别说容下两三张床；想起安妮描写她看到窗外的景象或听到广播新闻时有多么害怕，我的心也将不会跳动得如此剧烈。
走在密室中，我想到了奥托·弗兰克让他的家人藏身密室度过两年多与世隔绝的生活，这对他而言该是何等艰难啊：他不能让女儿出去玩，甚至不能让她们眺望窗外，让阳光洒在脸上。我无法想象当他看着生命的光彩从他至爱的亲人脸上渐渐消失而自己却无能为力时，他有多么痛苦。
我想到了彼得和玛戈。如果他们逃过了这场战争的劫难，不知道他们的命运会如何。但我想得最多的，还是安妮，我想起她在亲历这样的人间地狱之后，仍然通过她的日记给许许多多的人带来
欢笑。
她是一个梦想成为记者的小女孩，却在一个不幸的时代度过了生与死。她的作品一直激励着无数人，铁石心肠也会被她的语言融化。
从安妮的劫难中，世人读懂了生活有时是多么残酷。幸运的是，我们也明白了虽然生活时有艰辛，但我们更应该珍惜我们所拥有的东西，因为总会有人生活在暗无天日的密室中。