She is testimony to the fact that human beings, even if their bodies may be slaughtered, cannot die, so long as they strive to make lasting legacies of their lives. Even after Anne perished in a concentration camp, her day-to-day chronicle of her life, encompassing everything from her first menstruation to the careful watch the Secret Annex dwellers kept upon the doings of the war, lives on. Often, I too am plagued by doubts and remorse, when I speculate about the fate of young women like Anne, who died before their time. The world mourns the six million dead Jews who died, but a small part of me also mourns the loss to the world of what never was -- the great works of literature Anne could have written if only she had lived. Every time someone dies, or potential goes unfulfilled, even if it is only the life of a young girl, there are a thousand small, unrecorded...

Every book that Anne was not allowed to write is a small death.
I want to make my own life as fulfilling, and filled with life as much as possible in part because Anne Frank was never given the ability to maximize the potential her own existence. But even within the confines, historical and physical, in which she was forced to dwell, she still made the most of every second of her life, by thinking critically, paying attention to detail, and striving to make the most of her talents. I hope to do the same.

I remember Anne, because she had the courage and determination to be optimistic, and to refuse to be driven into passivity by oppressive forces. So long as I, and other young girls, remember Anne, Anne will continue to live on, and continue to touch the lives of others. Anne's spirit, although she died young, is a reminder that true immortality lies not in beauty, or transient celebrity, but having self-reliance and setting an example of courage and talent for others.