18 October 1942
I have wonderful news. C is alive! In today’s post came a card from her. It was unsigned but it is obvious that it is C and that she is living with a Catholic family. I am not going to write her name in case my journal falls into the wrong hands, but here is what the postcard said:
Life is fine in Oradour-sur-Glane. I am planning my wedding to a very plain but intelligent boy. Should we serve smoked salmon or roast chicken? I am studying my catechism every day.
It made me feel so happy to hear from her. She did not write about her father. Perhaps she will send another card soon.
It still eats away at me that Papa was not able to help Mme. and Bubbe E. I remember when I believed he could do anything. I wonder where that innocent-or should I say, stupid—girl went? He made many inquiries with the authorities but he was not able to get them released from either the Vel or from Drancy.
It is amazing to me how normal much of life is. We hear that the movie houses, theaters, and cabarets are full every night, French publishing houses bring out new books by famous writers; there are posters everywhere advertising it all. Many people go to see German entertainers, which I find deplorable. Even if Jews were permitted to go, I would never attend. The slang term “waiter” is used for people who just go about their daily business and wait for the Occupation to end. It seems like it is going to be a very long wait.
I had the most terrible dream last night where jacques was in love with Suzanne. But he loves me. He does. He comes over almost every day. We go to my room and kiss with the door closed. Liz-Bette always hovers outside, and if she doesn’t hear us talking for five minutes she runs and tells Maman. Then Maman finds a pretext to disturb us. I am certain she thinks that we are too young to spend that much time together behind closed doors, but it is not as if life were normal. There is a war on!