sunday, june 13, 1943
dearest kitty,
the poem father posed for my birthday is too o keep to myself.
since pim writes his verses only in german, margot volunteered to translate it into dutch. see for yourself whether margot hasnt done herself proud. it begins with the usual summary of the years events and then tinues:
as you among us, but small no more, your life be trying, for we have the chore of being your teachers, a terrible bore.
"weve got experieake it from me!”
"weve dohis all before, you see.
we know the ropes, we know the same.”
siime immemorial, always the same.
ones own shortings are nothing but fluff, but everyone elses are heavier stuff:
faultfinding es easy when this is our plight, but its hard for your parents, try as they might, to treat you with fairness, and kindness as well;
nitpigs a habit thats hard to dispel.
men youre living with old folks, all you do
is put up with their nagging -- its hard but its true.
the pill may be bitter, but down it must go, for its meant to keep the peace, you know.