This pouring thoughts out on paper has relieved me. I feel better and full of confidence and resolution.

But miracles still happen, even if we don't think they do.

By the end of the war, I could pick out Jewish people almost as if I had a sixth sense about it, even if they had blue eyes and blond hair. I would have been a very valuable Gestapo person.

They thought we were stupid to do it, (hide Jews) of course in fact, it was beyond their comprehension that we would risk so much for Jews.

All during that prison time I really lived by prayer. Be in prayer always, we're told, and back then I was.

Because your character is always full of ambition, the news of my being locked up must have been much harder on you than it was on me. When I was arrested, it was almost a relief to know that I could now experience what you were experiencing yourself. I am so afraid that they are breaking your spirit.

To me it was real war and my life was at stake, and I believe that all those clandestine spy games we played as children helped when the Occupation came.

It was always exciting, but it was also always dangerous. And fear takes a toll finally: when you live in danger from moment to moment, the constant tension becomes very wearying. Every step I took on the roads of Gelderland was nerve-wracking, because I was secretly carrying the very material that could turn out to be my own death warrant.

Heavy laden -- that's what I am. Laden with pride, often thinking myself better than others while we have to think the other one better than ourselves. Laden with my own egotism. Laden with all my sins. And when I went to bed last night and thought about everything and wanted to bring all those difficulties to God, I couldn't even find the words!