Permyak paper kite read a summary. Review of E. Permyak’s story “Paper Kite”

Sections: Primary School

Lesson objectives:

• continue acquaintance with the work of E.A. Permyak;
• to develop an interest in reading the works of E. Permyak and the ability to independently read and analyze the text;
• develop speech, expressiveness of speech, attention, imagination, enrich vocabulary;
• foster a sense of camaraderie and friendship.

Equipment:

• Exhibition of books by E. Permyak.
• Bast, boards, skein of thread, cards with these words.
• Model of a paper kite.
• Presentation.
• Test.

1 slide (portrait of E.A. Permyak)

Epigraph: Live, don’t be stingy, and share with friends. (on the board)

A ) work with a book exhibition

– Look at the exhibition of books.

- What is the difference? (Various stories)

b) working with the textbook

Today we will get acquainted with another wonderful work by this author. Open the reading book “I Want to Read” on page 169 and read the title of the story. (Kite)

1) working with text before reading

- Let's try to guess what we're going to read about? (children's assumptions)

Show the children a model of a kite.

– Who are the heroes of the work? (children's assumptions)

– How will events develop? (children's assumptions)

2) Reading the text aloud by children based on individual semantic passages.

3) Vocabulary work. On the board there are cards with the words:

Matching cards with words and objects. (Children read the words on the card and show the corresponding object)

4) Content work.

– What did Borya want to do?

-What was he missing? (bast and thread)

- Explain the expression “Everyone has everything, but everyone has something but is missing.”

– Find a sentence in the text that expresses the main idea.

Phys. just a minute

5) Working with the dough. (Children are given a test on the content of the work. When working with the test, students use the text).

6) Self-check testing. Slides No. 2,3,4.

A card with the word appears on the board

Children explain the meaning of this word.

Each group is given an individual task.

1. Draw a paper kite as Borya saw it.
2. Draw a paper kite as Petya imagined it.
3. Draw a paper kite as Syoma saw it.
4. Draw a paper kite as you imagine it.

Exhibition of group works.

5. Reflection. Creation of a filmstrip based on the story “The Kite”.

– Now you and I will go outside and try to create “living pictures” for our filmstrip. Children create scenes in groups. The teacher takes photographs.

Children are encouraged to finish the film in their own way.

The children decided that Petya, Borya and Syoma became friends and made their own paper kite. (Children make a paper kite and fly it.)

– What does “to be friends” mean? If children knew how to be friends, would their lives and moods change?

Explain the meaning of the proverb “Live, don’t be stingy, and share with friends.”

In the next lesson, we will watch the film that we made.

(Slide show in the application)

- Thank you for your work in class.

After watching the film, the children of my 1st “B” class decided that they would value friendship. The “Paper Kite” symbol has become a talisman of friendship for our class. The children really liked the film.

Kite

A good breeze blew. Smooth. In such a wind, a kite flies high. He pulls the thread tight. The wet tail flutters merrily. Beauty! Borya decided to make his own kite. He had a sheet of paper. And he planed the shingles. Yes, there was not enough wetness for the tail and threads on which to fly snakes. And Syoma has a large skein of thread. He has something to fly snakes with. If he had taken out a piece of paper and some wetness for his tail, he would have flown his own kite too.

Petya had a washcloth. He saved it for the snake. All he needed was thread and a sheet of paper with shingles.

Everyone has everything, but everyone is missing something.

The boys sit on the hill and grieve. Borya presses his sheet of shingles to his chest. Syoma clenched his threads into his fist. Petya hides his washcloth in his bosom.

A good breeze is blowing. Smooth. The friendly guys launched kites high into the sky. He waves his wet tail merrily. He pulls the thread tight. Beauty!

Borya, Syoma and Petya could also fly such a kite. Even better. They just haven’t learned to be friends yet. That's the problem.

How Masha became big

Little Masha really wanted to grow up. Very. But she didn’t know how to do it. I tried everything. And I walked in my mother’s shoes. And she was sitting in my grandmother’s hood. And she did her hair like Aunt Katya’s. And I tried on beads. And she put the watch on her hand. Nothing worked. They just laughed at her and made fun of her.

One day Masha decided to sweep the floor. And swept it. Yes, she swept it so well that even my mother was surprised:

- Mashenka! Are you really getting big with us?

And when Masha washed the dishes clean and wiped them dry, then not only mother, but also father was surprised. He was surprised and said to everyone at the table:

“We didn’t even notice how Maria grew up with us.” He not only sweeps the floor, but also washes the dishes.

Now everyone calls little Masha big. And she feels like an adult, although she walks around in her tiny shoes and short dress. No hairstyle. No beads. No watch.

Apparently, they are not the ones who make little ones big.

How Misha wanted to outwit his mother

Misha’s mother came home after work and clasped her hands:

- How did you, Mishenka, manage to break off a bicycle wheel?

- It, mom, broke off on its own.

- Why is your shirt torn, Mishenka?

- She, mommy, tore herself.

-Where did your other shoe go? Where did you lose it?

- He, Mom, got lost somewhere.

Then Misha’s mother said:

- How bad they all are! They, the scoundrels, need to be taught a lesson!

- But as? – Misha asked.

“Very simple,” my mother answered. “If they have learned to break themselves, to tear themselves apart, and to get lost themselves, let them learn to fix themselves, to sew themselves up, to find themselves.” And you and I, Misha, will sit at home and wait for them to do all this.

Misha sat down by the broken bicycle, in a torn shirt, without a shoe, and thought deeply.

Apparently this boy had something to think about.

First fish

Yura lived in a large and friendly family. Everyone in this family worked. Only Yura was not working. He was only five years old.

Once, Yurina’s family went to catch fish and cook fish soup. They caught a lot of fish and gave them all to grandma. Yura also caught one fish. Ruff. And I also gave it to my grandmother. For fish soup.

Grandmother cooked fish soup. The whole family on the shore sat down around the pot and started praising their ears:

“That’s why our fish soup is delicious, because Yura caught a huge fish fish.” That’s why our fish soup is fatty and rich, because fish soup is fatter than catfish.

And even though Yura was small, he understood that the adults were joking. Is there a lot of profit from a tiny brush? But he was still happy. He was happy because his little fish was in the big family ear.

Oh!

Nadya couldn’t do anything. Grandmother dressed Nadya, put on shoes, washed her, combed her hair.

Mom gave Nadya water from a cup, fed her from a spoon, put her to sleep, and lulled her to sleep.

Nadya heard about the kindergarten. The girlfriends are having fun playing there. They dance. They sing. They listen to fairy tales. Good for children in kindergarten. And Nadenka would have been happy there, but they didn’t take her there. They didn't accept it!

Nadya cried. Mom cried. Grandma cried.

– Why didn’t you accept Nadenka into kindergarten?

And in kindergarten they say:

- How can we accept her when she doesn’t know how to do anything?

Grandmother came to her senses, mother came to her senses. And Nadya caught herself. Nadya began to dress herself, put on her shoes, wash herself, eat, drink, comb her hair, and go to bed.

When they found out about this in kindergarten, they came for Nadya themselves. They came and took her to kindergarten, dressed, with shoes, washed, and combed her hair.

About the nose and tongue

Katya had two eyes, two ears, two arms, two legs, and one tongue and one nose.

“Tell me, grandma,” asks Katya, “why do I only have two, and one tongue and one nose?”

“And therefore, dear granddaughter,” the grandmother answers, “so that you see more, hear more, do more, walk more and talk less, and don’t stick your snub nose where it shouldn’t.”

This, it turns out, is why there is only one tongue and one nose.

Hasty knife

Mitya whittled the stick, whittled it and threw it away. It turned out to be an oblique stick.

Uneven. Ugly.

- How is this so? – Mitya’s father asks.

“The knife is bad,” Mitya answers, “it cuts askew.”

“No,” says the father, “the knife is good.” He's just in a hurry. It needs to be taught patience.

- But as? - asks Mitya.

“And so,” said the father.

He took the stick and began to plan it little by little, little by little, carefully.

Mitya understood how to teach a knife patience, and he also began to whittle little by little, little by little, carefully.

For a long time the hasty knife did not want to obey. He was in a hurry: he tried to swerve now and then at random, but it didn’t work out. Mitya forced him to be patient.

The knife became good at whittling. Smooth. Beautiful. Obediently.

Who?

Three girls once argued about which of them would be the best first-grader.

“I will be the best first-grader,” says Lyusya, “because my mother has already bought me a school bag.”

“No, I’ll be the best first-grader,” said Katya. “My mother sewed me a uniform dress with a white apron.”

“No, I... No, I,” Lenochka argues with her friends. “Not only do I have a school bag and a pencil case, not only do I have a uniform dress with a white apron, they also gave me two white ribbons in my braids.”

The girls argued like that, they argued - they became hoarse. They ran to their friend. To Masha.

Let her say which of them will be the best first-grader.

They came to Masha, and Masha was sitting at her ABC book.

“I don’t know, girls, who will be the best first-grader,” Masha answered. - I have no time. Today I have to learn three more letters.

- What for? - the girls ask.

“And then, so that you don’t end up being the worst, the very last first-grader,” said Masha and began to read the primer again.

Lucy, Katya and Lenochka became quiet. There was no more arguing about who would be the best first-grader. And so it is clear.

The worst thing

Vova grew up as a strong and strong boy. Everyone was afraid of him. And how can you not be afraid of this! He beat his comrades. He shot at the girls with a slingshot. He made faces at the adults. He stepped on the dog's tail, Cannon. He pulled out the whiskers of Murzey the cat.

I drove the prickly hedgehog under the closet. He was even rude to his grandmother.

Vova was not afraid of anyone. He was not afraid of anything. And he was very proud of this. I was proud, but not for long.

The day came when the boys did not want to play with him. They left him and that was it. He ran to the girls. But the girls, even the kindest ones, also turned away from him.

Then Vova rushed to Pushka, and he ran away into the street. Vova wanted to play with the cat Murzey, but the cat climbed onto the closet and looked at the boy with unkind green eyes. Angry.

Vova decided to lure the hedgehog out from under the closet. Where there! The hedgehog moved to another house to live a long time ago.

Vova approached his grandmother. The offended grandmother did not even look up at her grandson. The old woman is sitting in the corner, knitting a stocking and wiping away tears.

The worst of the worst that ever happened in the world came: Vova was left alone.

Alone!

Pichugin Bridge

On the way to school, the children loved to talk about their exploits.

“It would be nice,” says one, “to save a child in a fire!”

“It’s good to catch even the biggest pike,” the second one dreams. “They’ll find out about you right away.”

“It’s best to fly to the moon,” says the third boy. “Then people in all countries will know.”

But Syoma Pichugin didn’t think about anything like that. He grew up as a quiet and silent boy.

Like all the kids, Syoma loved to go to school along the short route across the Bystryanka River. This small river flowed along steep banks, and it was very difficult to jump over it. Last year, one schoolboy did not reach the other shore and fell. I was even in the hospital. And this winter, two girls were crossing the river on the first ice and stumbled. We got wet. And there was also a lot of screaming.

The boys were forbidden to take the short route. How long can you go when there is a short one!

So Syoma Pichugin decided to drop the old willow from this bank to that one.

His ax was good. Chiseled by my grandfather. And he began to chop the willow with them.

This turned out to be not an easy task. The willow was very thick. You can't grab it with two people. Only on the second day did the tree collapse. It collapsed and lay across the river.

Now it was necessary to cut off the branches of the willow. They got underfoot and made it difficult to walk. But when Syoma cut them off, walking became even more difficult.

There's nothing to hold on to. Just look, you'll fall. Especially if it's snowing.

Syoma decided to install a railing from poles.

Grandfather helped.

It turned out to be a good bridge. Now not only the boys, but also all the other residents began to walk from village to village along a short road. As soon as anyone takes a detour, they will definitely tell him:

- Where are you going seven miles away to slurp up jelly! Go straight across the Pichugin Bridge.

So they began to call him by Semina’s last name – Pichugin Bridge. When the willow rotted and it became dangerous to walk on it, the collective farm built a real bridge. Made from good logs. But the name of the bridge remains the same - Pichugin.

Soon this bridge was also replaced. They began to straighten the highway. The road passed through the Bystryanka River, along the same short path along which the children ran to school.

The big bridge was built. With cast iron railings. This could have been given a loud name. Concrete, let's say... Or something else. And everyone calls it in the old way - Pichugin Bridge. And it doesn’t even occur to anyone that this bridge could be called something else.

This is how it happens in life.

Currant

Tanyusha had heard a lot about cuttings, but didn’t know what they were.

One day my father brought a bunch of green twigs and said:

- These are currant cuttings. Let's plant currants, Tanyusha.

Tanya began to look at the cuttings. The sticks are like sticks - slightly longer than a pencil. Tanyusha was surprised:

- How will currants grow from these sticks when they have neither roots nor branches?

And the father answers:

- But they have buds. Roots will emerge from the lower buds. But from this top one, a currant bush will grow.

Tanyusha couldn’t believe that a small bud could become a big bush. And I decided to check it out. I decided to grow currants myself. In the front garden. In front of the hut, right under the windows. And there were burdocks and burdocks growing there. Yes, they are so tenacious that you won’t be able to weed them out right away.

Grandma helped. They pulled out the burdocks and thistles, and Tanyusha began to dig up the ground. This is not an easy job. First you need to remove the turf, then break up the clods. And the turf near the ground is thick and hard. And the lumps are hard.

Tanya had to work a lot until the land was conquered. It became soft and crumbly.

Tanya marked out the dug up ground with a string and pegs. I did everything as my father ordered and planted currant cuttings in rows. She sat down and began to wait.

The long-awaited day has come. Sprouts emerged from the buds, and soon leaves appeared.

By autumn, small bushes rose from the sprouts. And a year later they bloomed and produced the first berries. A small handful from each bush.

Tanya is pleased that she grew currants herself. And people rejoice looking at the girl:

– That’s what a good “currant” the Kalinnikovs are growing. Persistent.

Hard-working. Black-eyed, with a white ribbon in her braid.

Frivolous purchase

One day I went to the Moscow Bird Market to buy parrots, but I bought a fox cub. I bought it without wanting to. The aunt who was selling the fox cub offered it so persistently, and the fox cub was so cute and was so inexpensive that I bought it along with a basket and brought it to the dacha that we rented near Moscow.

Housing for the little fox came up with an expensive idea. Upon arrival, I built a rather spacious, low enclosure from mesh.

The floor of the enclosure was also mesh so that the little fox would not run away. No roof. And so that the animal would not get wet, I placed a thick box in the enclosure, made a hole in it and covered it with all sorts of “soft things”, from cotton wool to moss.

The little fox quickly got used to it. Slept in a box. He ran into it before the rain came, as if thereby predicting bad weather. They fed the little fox with everything possible. And of course, meat. We bought the third grade. The animal became more voracious, growing up very quickly.

By autumn he grew tall and became, if not a fox, then at least something like that. My family told me that they were already tired of buying meat, and the weekly meat ration turned out to be not so cheap. Third grade meat was not always available. Besides, autumn was approaching. Don't take the fox to Moscow! There was only one way out and the simplest. Release the glutton into the wild and let her take care of herself and live in good health.

And soon, when the fox ran into the box, we closed the hole through which it entered. Then they opened the mesh enclosure and carried the fox into the forest.

They came to the clearing, put the box down, and opened the door. Soon the fox carefully stuck out its muzzle, looked around, then left. When she came out, she did not want to go into the forest. We decided to scare. They clapped their hands. They threw anything they could get their hands on in her direction, but she didn’t run away.

Finally, we drove her into the forest and returned to our place. It seemed like everything ended well. But as it turned out, nothing ended, but began.

The fox became hungry and returned to the enclosure. I fed her, sent her out and sealed the hole in the mesh of the enclosure. Even worse happened. The fox, accustomed to light food and people, began to hunt for the chickens of the dacha village.

The huntress was soon identified. I was bombarded with complaints. It was said definitely and clearly: “You started it, you pay for it.” I did this as much as I could, and then I opened a hole in the mesh of the enclosure and caught the criminal, deciding to give her to the zoo. Don’t turn your old friend into a collar... But it didn’t come to the zoo. The pioneers came to the rescue. We took the fox to a corner of wildlife. What happened to her then, I didn’t find out and didn’t want to find out. Only after this I promised myself never to own wild animals and did not keep them.

Let others do this, who can, who have the capabilities, skills, and everything else for this. Even the cute, silent aquarium fish need to carefully prepare everything they need before making them their residents. And without this, it will be bad for the residents, and even worse for their owners.

It is not difficult to make a frivolous purchase, but it is not always easy to experience its consequences later. Even before getting a puppy, you need to think through everything down to the last detail...

And again, I say all this not for idle instruction, but just in case, as a benevolent warning...

Mom and us

If we talk about our entire childhood, a week probably won’t be enough. So, something please. For example, there was a case...

We were late at school because we were finishing up the wall newspaper. When we left, it was already getting dark. It was warm. Large, fluffy snow was falling. Apparently, that’s why Tonya and Lida danced the snowflake dance on the way. My younger brother, who was waiting for me to go along, laughed at them:

- They jump like first-graders!

The snow was falling thicker and thicker. It was no longer possible to dance. The snow piled up to half a felt boot.

- Don't get lost! - my younger brother warned us, as the most far-sighted.

- Fuck you, coward! – Lida responded. “We’ll be home in fifteen minutes.”

Meanwhile, the snowfall intensified. I also became worried, knowing how cruel our Siberian steppe snowstorms are. It happened that people lost their way while being near their home. I advised them to speed up, but this was no longer possible due to the deep layer of snow that covered the road.

It became even darker. A kind of white, snowy darkness set in. And then what I feared began. The snowflakes suddenly began to swirl... They swirled in such a dance that a few minutes later a real blizzard began, which soon turned into a big snowstorm.

The girls covered their faces with scarves. Fedya and I lowered our ears to our hats. The narrow path that led to our village kept disappearing under our feet. I walked first, trying not to lose the momentum of the road under my feet. It was less than a mile away from home. I believed that we would get out safely.

In vain.

The road has disappeared. It’s as if someone very unkind from my grandmother’s fairy tale stole it from under my feet. Maybe Crazy Snowstorm... maybe the evil old man Buran Buranovich.

- That's what I told you! - Fedya reproached us.

Lida was still cheerful, and Tonya was almost crying. She has already been in a blizzard with her father. She spent the night in the snowy steppe. But then there was a spare warm sheepskin coat in the sleigh, and Tonya, covered with it, slept safely through the night. And now?

Now we were already exhausted. I didn't know what to do next. The snow melted on my face, and it turned my face into ice. The wind whistled in every way. Wolves seemed to be there.

“Who are you afraid of? Blizzards? Do you feel like screaming? Who will hear you in such a wind! Maybe you hope the dogs will find you? In vain. What kind of dog would go to the steppe in such weather! You have only one thing left: bury yourself in the snow.”

- We have lost our way. We may become exhausted and freeze. Let's bury ourselves in the snow like nomads do.

Apparently, I announced this so firmly that no one objected to me. Only Tonya asked in a crying voice:

And I answered:

- Just like partridges.

Having said this, I was the first to start digging a well in the deep February snow. I started to dig through it first with my school bag, but the bag turned out to be thick; then I took out of my bag a geographical atlas bound in a strong cardboard binding. Things went faster. My brother replaced me, then Tonya.

Tonya even cheered up:

- How warm it is! Try it, Lidochka. You'll warm up.

And we began to take turns digging a well in the snow. After the well reached our height, we began to dig a cave in its snowy side. When the snowstorm covers the well, we will find ourselves under the snowy roof of a dug cave.

Having dug out a cave, we began to settle in it. The wind soon covered the well with snow, without blowing into the cave. We found ourselves under the snow, as if in a hole. Like a black grouse. After all, they too, throwing themselves from a tree into a snowdrift and “drowning” in it, then make snow passages and feel there in the most magnificent way.

Sitting on our school bags, warming the small space of our closet with our breath, we felt quite comfortable. If only there was a candle stub in addition to all this, we could see each other.

I had with me a piece of lard left over from breakfast. And if there were matches, I would make a wick from a handkerchief and we would have a lamp. But there were no matches.

“Well, we were saved,” I said.

Then Tonya unexpectedly announced to me:

- Kolya, if you want, I will give you my Topsik.

Topsik was the name given to a tame gopher.

I didn't need the gopher. I hated gophers. But I was very pleased with Tonino’s promise. I understood what caused this generous impulse of the soul. Yes, and everyone understood. No wonder Lida said:

- You, Nikolai, now we have the power! Man!

I felt really strong and started telling old wives' tales. I started telling them because I was afraid to fall asleep. And when I fall asleep, the rest will fall asleep too. And this was dangerous. You might freeze. One after another, I told probably thirty, and maybe more, tales. When the entire stock of grandmother's fairy tales was exhausted, I began to invent my own. But, apparently, the fairy tales I invented were boring. A light snore was heard.

- Who is this?

“This is Tonya,” answered Lida. - She fell asleep. I also want to sleep. Can? I'll just take a nap for a minute.

- No no! – I forbade. - Is it dangerous. This is deadly.

- Why? Look how warm it is!

Then I found myself and lied so successfully that after that no one even wanted to doze off. I said:

- Wolves attack sleeping people. They are just waiting to hear a person snore.

Having said this, I cited a lot of cases that I invented with such speed that I can’t even believe now how I could do it...

Now others were telling. One by one.

Time passed slowly, and I did not know whether it was midnight or perhaps dawn. The well we dug was long ago covered up by a blizzard.

Nomadic shepherds, finding themselves in the same position, made a high six out of the snow. They specifically took it to the steppe in case of a snowstorm, so that later they could be found and dug up.

We had no pole and nothing to hope for. Only for dogs. But they wouldn’t have smelled us through the thick snow.

My lard was divided and eaten long ago, like Lida’s loaf of bread.

Current page: 1 (book has 3 pages in total)

Evgeniy Andreevich Permyak
The Kite: Stories and Tales

Stories

Kite

A good breeze blew. Smooth. In such a wind, a kite flies high. He pulls the thread tight. The wet tail flutters merrily. Beauty! Borya decided to make his own kite. He had a sheet of paper. And he planed the shingles. Yes, there was not enough wetness for the tail and threads on which to fly snakes. And Syoma has a large skein of thread. He has something to fly snakes with. If he had taken out a piece of paper and some wetness for his tail, he would have flown his own kite too.

Petya had a washcloth. He saved it for the snake. All he needed was thread and a sheet of paper with shingles.

Everyone has everything, but everyone is missing something.

The boys sit on the hill and grieve. Borya presses his sheet of shingles to his chest. Syoma clenched his threads into his fist. Petya hides his washcloth in his bosom.

A good breeze is blowing. Smooth. The friendly guys launched kites high into the sky. He waves his wet tail merrily. He pulls the thread tight. Beauty!

Borya, Syoma and Petya could also fly such a kite. Even better. They just haven’t learned to be friends yet. That's the problem.

How Masha became big

Little Masha really wanted to grow up. Very. But she didn’t know how to do it. I tried everything. And I walked in my mother’s shoes. And she was sitting in my grandmother’s hood. And she did her hair like Aunt Katya’s. And I tried on beads. And she put the watch on her hand. Nothing worked. They just laughed at her and made fun of her.

One day Masha decided to sweep the floor. And swept it. Yes, she swept it so well that even my mother was surprised:

- Mashenka! Are you really getting big with us?

And when Masha washed the dishes clean and wiped them dry, then not only mother, but also father was surprised. He was surprised and said to everyone at the table:

“We didn’t even notice how Maria grew up with us.” He not only sweeps the floor, but also washes the dishes.

Now everyone calls little Masha big. And she feels like an adult, although she walks around in her tiny shoes and short dress. No hairstyle. No beads. No watch.

Apparently, they are not the ones who make little ones big.

How Misha wanted to outwit his mother

Misha’s mother came home after work and clasped her hands:

- How did you, Mishenka, manage to break off a bicycle wheel?

- It, mom, broke off on its own.

- Why is your shirt torn, Mishenka?

- She, mommy, tore herself.

-Where did your other shoe go? Where did you lose it?

- He, Mom, got lost somewhere.

Then Misha’s mother said:

- How bad they all are! They, the scoundrels, need to be taught a lesson!

- But as? – Misha asked.

“Very simple,” my mother answered. “If they have learned to break themselves, to tear themselves apart, and to get lost themselves, let them learn to fix themselves, to sew themselves up, to find themselves.” And you and I, Misha, will sit at home and wait for them to do all this.

Misha sat down by the broken bicycle, in a torn shirt, without a shoe, and thought deeply. Apparently this boy had something to think about.

First fish

Yura lived in a large and friendly family. Everyone in this family worked. Only Yura was not working. He was only five years old.

Once, Yurina’s family went to catch fish and cook fish soup. They caught a lot of fish and gave them all to grandma. Yura also caught one fish. Ruff. And I also gave it to my grandmother. For fish soup.

Grandmother cooked fish soup. The whole family on the shore sat down around the pot and started praising their ears:

“That’s why our fish soup is delicious, because Yura caught a huge fish fish.” That’s why our fish soup is fatty and rich, because fish soup is fatter than catfish.

And even though Yura was small, he understood that the adults were joking. Is there a lot of profit from a tiny brush? But he was still happy. He was happy because his little fish was in the big family ear.

Oh!

Nadya couldn’t do anything. Grandmother dressed Nadya, put on shoes, washed her, combed her hair.

Mom gave Nadya water from a cup, fed her from a spoon, put her to sleep, and lulled her to sleep.

Nadya heard about the kindergarten. The girlfriends are having fun playing there. They dance. They sing. They listen to fairy tales. Good for children in kindergarten. And Nadenka would have been happy there, but they didn’t take her there. They didn't accept it!

Nadya cried. Mom cried. Grandma cried.

– Why didn’t you accept Nadenka into kindergarten?

And in kindergarten they say:

- How can we accept her when she doesn’t know how to do anything?

Grandmother came to her senses, mother came to her senses. And Nadya caught herself. Nadya began to dress herself, put on her shoes, wash herself, eat, drink, comb her hair, and go to bed.

When they found out about this in kindergarten, they came for Nadya themselves. They came and took her to kindergarten, dressed, with shoes, washed, and combed her hair.

About the nose and tongue

Katya had two eyes, two ears, two arms, two legs, and one tongue and one nose.

“Tell me, grandma,” asks Katya, “why do I only have two, and one tongue and one nose?”

“And therefore, dear granddaughter,” the grandmother answers, “so that you see more, hear more, do more, walk more and talk less, and don’t stick your snub nose where it shouldn’t.”

This, it turns out, is why there is only one tongue and one nose.

Hasty knife

Mitya whittled the stick, whittled it and threw it away. It turned out to be an oblique stick.

Uneven. Ugly.

- How is this so? – Mitya’s father asks.

“The knife is bad,” Mitya answers, “it cuts askew.”

“No,” says the father, “the knife is good.” He's just in a hurry. It needs to be taught patience.

- But as? - asks Mitya.

“And so,” said the father.

He took the stick and began to plan it little by little, little by little, carefully.

Mitya understood how to teach a knife patience, and he also began to whittle little by little, little by little, carefully.

For a long time the hasty knife did not want to obey. He was in a hurry: he tried to swerve now and then at random, but it didn’t work out. Mitya forced him to be patient.

The knife became good at whittling. Smooth. Beautiful. Obediently.

Who?

Three girls once argued about which of them would be the best first-grader.

“I will be the best first-grader,” says Lyusya, “because my mother has already bought me a school bag.”

“No, I’ll be the best first-grader,” said Katya. “My mother sewed me a uniform dress with a white apron.”

“No, I... No, I,” Lenochka argues with her friends. “Not only do I have a school bag and a pencil case, not only do I have a uniform dress with a white apron, they also gave me two white ribbons in my braids.”

The girls argued like that, they argued - they became hoarse. They ran to their friend. To Masha.

Let her say which of them will be the best first-grader.

They came to Masha, and Masha was sitting at her ABC book.

“I don’t know, girls, who will be the best first-grader,” Masha answered. - I have no time. Today I have to learn three more letters.

- What for? - the girls ask.

“And then, so that you don’t end up being the worst, the very last first-grader,” said Masha and began to read the primer again.

Lucy, Katya and Lenochka became quiet. There was no more arguing about who would be the best first-grader. And so it is clear.

The worst thing

Vova grew up as a strong and strong boy. Everyone was afraid of him. And how can you not be afraid of this! He beat his comrades. He shot at the girls with a slingshot. He made faces at the adults. He stepped on the dog's tail, Cannon. He pulled out the whiskers of Murzey the cat.

I drove the prickly hedgehog under the closet. He was even rude to his grandmother.

Vova was not afraid of anyone. He was not afraid of anything. And he was very proud of this. I was proud, but not for long.

The day came when the boys did not want to play with him. They left him and that was it. He ran to the girls. But the girls, even the kindest ones, also turned away from him.

Then Vova rushed to Pushka, and he ran away into the street. Vova wanted to play with the cat Murzey, but the cat climbed onto the closet and looked at the boy with unkind green eyes. Angry.

Vova decided to lure the hedgehog out from under the closet. Where there! The hedgehog moved to another house to live a long time ago.

Vova approached his grandmother. The offended grandmother did not even look up at her grandson. The old woman is sitting in the corner, knitting a stocking and wiping away tears.

The worst of the worst that ever happened in the world came: Vova was left alone.

Alone!

Pichugin Bridge

On the way to school, the children loved to talk about their exploits.

“It would be nice,” says one, “to save a child in a fire!”

“It’s good to catch even the biggest pike,” the second one dreams. “They’ll find out about you right away.”

“It’s best to fly to the moon,” says the third boy. “Then people in all countries will know.”

But Syoma Pichugin didn’t think about anything like that. He grew up as a quiet and silent boy.

Like all the kids, Syoma loved to go to school along the short route across the Bystryanka River. This small river flowed along steep banks, and it was very difficult to jump over it. Last year, one schoolboy did not reach the other shore and fell. I was even in the hospital. And this winter, two girls were crossing the river on the first ice and stumbled. We got wet. And there was also a lot of screaming.

The boys were forbidden to take the short route. How long can you go when there is a short one!

So Syoma Pichugin decided to drop the old willow from this bank to that one.

His ax was good. Chiseled by my grandfather. And he began to chop the willow with them.

This turned out to be not an easy task. The willow was very thick. You can't grab it with two people. Only on the second day did the tree collapse. It collapsed and lay across the river.

Now it was necessary to cut off the branches of the willow. They got underfoot and made it difficult to walk. But when Syoma cut them off, walking became even more difficult.

There's nothing to hold on to. Just look, you'll fall. Especially if it's snowing.

Syoma decided to install a railing from poles.

Grandfather helped.

It turned out to be a good bridge. Now not only the boys, but also all the other residents began to walk from village to village along a short road. As soon as anyone takes a detour, they will definitely tell him:

- Where are you going seven miles away to slurp up jelly! Go straight across the Pichugin Bridge.

So they began to call him by Semina’s last name – Pichugin Bridge. When the willow rotted and it became dangerous to walk on it, the collective farm built a real bridge. Made from good logs. But the name of the bridge remains the same - Pichugin.

Soon this bridge was also replaced. They began to straighten the highway. The road passed through the Bystryanka River, along the same short path along which the children ran to school.

The big bridge was built. With cast iron railings. This could have been given a loud name. Concrete, let's say... Or something else. And everyone calls it in the old way - Pichugin Bridge. And it doesn’t even occur to anyone that this bridge could be called something else.

This is how it happens in life.

Currant

Tanyusha had heard a lot about cuttings, but didn’t know what they were.

One day my father brought a bunch of green twigs and said:

- These are currant cuttings. Let's plant currants, Tanyusha.

Tanya began to look at the cuttings. The sticks are like sticks - slightly longer than a pencil. Tanyusha was surprised:

- How will currants grow from these sticks when they have neither roots nor branches?

And the father answers:

- But they have buds. Roots will emerge from the lower buds. But from this top one, a currant bush will grow.

Tanyusha couldn’t believe that a small bud could become a big bush. And I decided to check it out. I decided to grow currants myself. In the front garden. In front of the hut, right under the windows. And there were burdocks and burdocks growing there. Yes, they are so tenacious that you won’t be able to weed them out right away.

Grandma helped. They pulled out the burdocks and thistles, and Tanyusha began to dig up the ground. This is not an easy job. First you need to remove the turf, then break up the clods. And the turf near the ground is thick and hard. And the lumps are hard.

Tanya had to work a lot until the land was conquered. It became soft and crumbly.

Tanya marked out the dug up ground with a string and pegs. I did everything as my father ordered and planted currant cuttings in rows. She sat down and began to wait.

The long-awaited day has come. Sprouts emerged from the buds, and soon leaves appeared.

By autumn, small bushes rose from the sprouts. And a year later they bloomed and produced the first berries. A small handful from each bush.

Tanya is pleased that she grew currants herself. And people rejoice looking at the girl:

– That’s what a good “currant” the Kalinnikovs are growing. Persistent.

Hard-working. Black-eyed, with a white ribbon in her braid.

Frivolous purchase

One day I went to the Moscow Bird Market to buy parrots, but I bought a fox cub. I bought it without wanting to. The aunt who was selling the fox cub offered it so persistently, and the fox cub was so cute and was so inexpensive that I bought it along with a basket and brought it to the dacha that we rented near Moscow.

Housing for the little fox came up with an expensive idea. Upon arrival, I built a rather spacious, low enclosure from mesh.

The floor of the enclosure was also mesh so that the little fox would not run away. No roof. And so that the animal would not get wet, I placed a thick box in the enclosure, made a hole in it and covered it with all sorts of “soft things”, from cotton wool to moss.

The little fox quickly got used to it. Slept in a box. He ran into it before the rain came, as if thereby predicting bad weather. They fed the little fox with everything possible. And of course, meat. We bought the third grade. The animal became more voracious, growing up very quickly.

By autumn he grew tall and became, if not a fox, then at least something like that. My family told me that they were already tired of buying meat, and the weekly meat ration turned out to be not so cheap. Third grade meat was not always available. Besides, autumn was approaching. Don't take the fox to Moscow! There was only one way out and the simplest. Release the glutton into the wild and let her take care of herself and live in good health.

And soon, when the fox ran into the box, we closed the hole through which it entered. Then they opened the mesh enclosure and carried the fox into the forest.

They came to the clearing, put the box down, and opened the door. Soon the fox carefully stuck out its muzzle, looked around, then left. When she came out, she did not want to go into the forest. We decided to scare. They clapped their hands. They threw anything they could get their hands on in her direction, but she didn’t run away.

Finally, we drove her into the forest and returned to our place. It seemed like everything ended well. But as it turned out, nothing ended, but began.

The fox became hungry and returned to the enclosure. I fed her, sent her out and sealed the hole in the mesh of the enclosure. Even worse happened. The fox, accustomed to light food and people, began to hunt for the chickens of the dacha village.

The huntress was soon identified. I was bombarded with complaints. It was said definitely and clearly: “You started it, you pay for it.” I did this as much as I could, and then I opened a hole in the mesh of the enclosure and caught the criminal, deciding to give her to the zoo. Don’t turn your old friend into a collar... But it didn’t come to the zoo. The pioneers came to the rescue. We took the fox to a corner of wildlife. What happened to her then, I didn’t find out and didn’t want to find out. Only after this I promised myself never to own wild animals and did not keep them.

Let others do this, who can, who have the capabilities, skills, and everything else for this. Even the cute, silent aquarium fish need to carefully prepare everything they need before making them their residents. And without this, it will be bad for the residents, and even worse for their owners.

It is not difficult to make a frivolous purchase, but it is not always easy to experience its consequences later. Even before getting a puppy, you need to think through everything down to the last detail...

And again, I say all this not for idle instruction, but just in case, as a benevolent warning...

Mom and us

If we talk about our entire childhood, a week probably won’t be enough. So, something please. For example, there was a case...

We were late at school because we were finishing up the wall newspaper. When we left, it was already getting dark. It was warm. Large, fluffy snow was falling. Apparently, that’s why Tonya and Lida danced the snowflake dance on the way. My younger brother, who was waiting for me to go along, laughed at them:

- They jump like first-graders!

The snow was falling thicker and thicker. It was no longer possible to dance. The snow piled up to half a felt boot.

- Don't get lost! - my younger brother warned us, as the most far-sighted.

- Fuck you, coward! – Lida responded. “We’ll be home in fifteen minutes.”

Meanwhile, the snowfall intensified. I also became worried, knowing how cruel our Siberian steppe snowstorms are. It happened that people lost their way while being near their home. I advised them to speed up, but this was no longer possible due to the deep layer of snow that covered the road.

It became even darker. A kind of white, snowy darkness set in. And then what I feared began. The snowflakes suddenly began to swirl... They swirled in such a dance that a few minutes later a real blizzard began, which soon turned into a big snowstorm.

The girls covered their faces with scarves. Fedya and I lowered our ears to our hats. The narrow path that led to our village kept disappearing under our feet. I walked first, trying not to lose the momentum of the road under my feet. It was less than a mile away from home. I believed that we would get out safely.

In vain.

The road has disappeared. It’s as if someone very unkind from my grandmother’s fairy tale stole it from under my feet. Maybe Crazy Snowstorm... maybe the evil old man Buran Buranovich.

- That's what I told you! - Fedya reproached us.

Lida was still cheerful, and Tonya was almost crying. She has already been in a blizzard with her father. She spent the night in the snowy steppe. But then there was a spare warm sheepskin coat in the sleigh, and Tonya, covered with it, slept safely through the night. And now?

Now we were already exhausted. I didn't know what to do next. The snow melted on my face, and it turned my face into ice. The wind whistled in every way. Wolves seemed to be there.

“Who are you afraid of? Blizzards? Do you feel like screaming? Who will hear you in such a wind! Maybe you hope the dogs will find you? In vain. What kind of dog would go to the steppe in such weather! You have only one thing left: bury yourself in the snow.”

- We have lost our way. We may become exhausted and freeze. Let's bury ourselves in the snow like nomads do.

Apparently, I announced this so firmly that no one objected to me. Only Tonya asked in a crying voice:

And I answered:

- Just like partridges.

Having said this, I was the first to start digging a well in the deep February snow. I started to dig through it first with my school bag, but the bag turned out to be thick; then I took out of my bag a geographical atlas bound in a strong cardboard binding. Things went faster. My brother replaced me, then Tonya.

Tonya even cheered up:

- How warm it is! Try it, Lidochka. You'll warm up.

And we began to take turns digging a well in the snow. After the well reached our height, we began to dig a cave in its snowy side. When the snowstorm covers the well, we will find ourselves under the snowy roof of a dug cave.

Having dug out a cave, we began to settle in it. The wind soon covered the well with snow, without blowing into the cave. We found ourselves under the snow, as if in a hole. Like a black grouse. After all, they too, throwing themselves from a tree into a snowdrift and “drowning” in it, then make snow passages and feel there in the most magnificent way.

Sitting on our school bags, warming the small space of our closet with our breath, we felt quite comfortable. If only there was a candle stub in addition to all this, we could see each other.

I had with me a piece of lard left over from breakfast. And if there were matches, I would make a wick from a handkerchief and we would have a lamp. But there were no matches.

“Well, we were saved,” I said.

Then Tonya unexpectedly announced to me:

- Kolya, if you want, I will give you my Topsik.

Topsik was the name given to a tame gopher.

I didn't need the gopher. I hated gophers. But I was very pleased with Tonino’s promise. I understood what caused this generous impulse of the soul. Yes, and everyone understood. No wonder Lida said:

- You, Nikolai, now we have the power! Man!

I felt really strong and started telling old wives' tales. I started telling them because I was afraid to fall asleep. And when I fall asleep, the rest will fall asleep too. And this was dangerous. You might freeze. One after another, I told probably thirty, and maybe more, tales. When the entire stock of grandmother's fairy tales was exhausted, I began to invent my own. But, apparently, the fairy tales I invented were boring. A light snore was heard.

- Who is this?

“This is Tonya,” answered Lida. - She fell asleep. I also want to sleep. Can? I'll just take a nap for a minute.

- No no! – I forbade. - Is it dangerous. This is deadly.

- Why? Look how warm it is!

Then I found myself and lied so successfully that after that no one even wanted to doze off. I said:

- Wolves attack sleeping people. They are just waiting to hear a person snore.

Having said this, I cited a lot of cases that I invented with such speed that I can’t even believe now how I could do it...

Now others were telling. One by one.

Time passed slowly, and I did not know whether it was midnight or perhaps dawn. The well we dug was long ago covered up by a blizzard.

Nomadic shepherds, finding themselves in the same position, made a high six out of the snow. They specifically took it to the steppe in case of a snowstorm, so that later they could be found and dug up.

We had no pole and nothing to hope for. Only for dogs. But they wouldn’t have smelled us through the thick snow.

My lard was divided and eaten long ago, like Lida’s loaf of bread.

It seemed to everyone that morning had already come, and they wanted to believe that the blizzard was over, but I was afraid to break through to the top. This meant filling the cave with snow, getting wet and, perhaps, finding oneself again in a white snowy haze. But each of us understood how much trouble we had caused everyone. Perhaps they are looking for us, calling out to us in the steppe... And I imagined my mother shouting through the wind:

“Kolyunka... Fedyunka... Answer me!..”

Thinking about this, I began to break through to the top. The snowy roof above us was not so thick. We saw the pale moon and the dying stars. A kind of drowsy, as if sleep-deprived, pale dawn was dawning.

- Morning! – I shouted and began to make steps in the snow so that the others could get out.

Belated snowflakes fell from the sky. I immediately saw our windmill. Smoke rose from the chimneys in thin, as if tightly stretched, strings. People woke up. Or maybe they didn’t sleep that night.

Soon we saw our guys. They ran towards us joyfully and shouted:

- Alive! All four! Alive!

We rushed towards them. I didn’t hesitate and listen to what Tonya and Lida were saying about that night, about me. I ran to our house.

There were no sleighs in the yard, which meant that father had not returned yet. Opening the door, leaving Fedyunka far behind me, I rushed to my mother. He rushed and... what happened was... and began to cry.

- What are you talking about? – my mother asked, wiping my tears with her apron.

And I said:

- About you, mom... You probably lost your head without us.

The mother chuckled. She freed herself from my embrace and went to Helen’s crib. This is our little sister. She came over and straightened the blanket. And she told her: “Sleep.” Although she was already asleep and there was no need to adjust the blanket. Then she approached Fedyunka, who had arrived in time, and asked:

- Are your felt boots wet?

“No,” he answered. – There was satin under the felt boots. The short fur coat is getting wet. I want to eat...

“Change your shoes and get to the table quickly,” said the mother, without asking anything about the previous night.

“Does she love us? – I thought for the first time. - Does he love you? Maybe this howler Lenochka has only one light in her eye?

When we ate two plates of hot cabbage soup, mother said:

- I laid down, lie down. You won't go to school. Need to get some sleep.

I couldn't sleep, but I wanted to sleep. I lay until noon in a dark room with the shutters closed.

We were called to dinner. Father arrived. He already knew everything from Lida and Tony. He praised me. He promised to buy me a small but real gun. He was surprised at my resourcefulness.

Mother said:

– The guy is thirteen years old. And it would be funny if he got lost in a snowstorm and didn’t save himself and his comrades.

“Anyuta!..” the father reproachfully remarked to the mother.

And mother interrupted father and said:

- Come on, eat! The porridge is getting cold. Stop talking! They need to take lessons. We spent the night wandering around, lost the day...

After lunch, Tonya brought me Topsik. I didn't take it.

Lida’s mother, Marfa Egorovna, appeared with a large gander and, bowing low to her mother, said:

- Thank you, Anna Sergeevna, for raising such a son! Saved two girls. Tonka has sisters, but Lidka is the only one I have...

When Marfa Yegorovna finished her lamentations, mother said:

“Shame on you, Marfa, for making my klutz Kolka a hero!” - and, turning around, flatly refused to take the gander.

In the evening we were left alone with my grandmother. The mother went to the station, to see the paramedic. She said she was crazy and had a headache.

It was always easy and simple for me with my grandmother.

I asked her:

“Grandma, at least tell me the truth: why doesn’t our mother love us so much?” Are we really that worthless?

- You are a fool, no one else! - answered the grandmother. “Mother didn’t sleep all night. She roared like crazy... She searched for you across the steppe with a dog. I have frostbite on my knees... Just look, you don’t talk about it to her! As she is, she must be loved as she is. I love her…

Soon the mother returned. She told her grandmother:

– The paramedic gave me powders for the head. He says it's nonsense. It will be over in a month.

I rushed to my mother and hugged her legs. Through the thickness of her skirts, I felt that her knees were bandaged. But I didn’t even show it. I have never been so affectionate with her. I have never loved my mother so much. Shedding tears, I kissed her chapped hands.

And she just, casually, like a calf, patted me on the head and went off to lie down. Apparently it was difficult for her to stand.

Our loving and caring mother raised and strengthened us in the cold hall. She looked far away. And nothing bad came of it. Fedyunka is now twice a Hero. And I could say something about myself, but my mother strictly bequeathed to say as little as possible about herself.

The main characters of Evgeny Permyak’s story “The Kite” are three boys: Borya. Sema and Petya. They sit on a hill and watch other guys fly a kite. Each of the three boys dreams of their own kite.

Bori has a sheet of paper and shingles in store for this, which he personally planed. But he does not have a base for his tail and threads on which to fly the kite.

Sema also has something in store for making a paper kite. He has a skein of thread. And Petya has a washcloth, but he doesn’t have everything else.

So the guys are sitting, not knowing how to make a kite. And they don’t understand that for this they lack the very little thing - friendship.

This is the summary of the story.

The main idea of ​​Permyak’s story “The Kite” is that by uniting, people are able to do more than if they were isolated from each other. Each of the three boys has something that could be used to make a kite. But they cannot guess that they should unite and make a common kite.

The story teaches us to be friends for the common good and not to isolate ourselves from other people.

What proverbs fit Permyak’s story “The Kite”?

The artel is strong in friendship.
The common pot boils thicker.
And the forest makes more noise when there are a lot of trees.

A good breeze blew. Smooth. In such a wind, a kite flies high. He pulls the thread tight. The wet tail flutters merrily. Beauty! Borya decided to make his own kite. He had a sheet of paper. And he planed the shingles. Yes, there was not enough wetness for the tail and threads on which to fly snakes. And Syoma has a large skein of thread. He has something to fly snakes with. If he had taken out a piece of paper and some wetness for his tail, he would have flown his own kite too.

Petya had a washcloth. He saved it for the snake. All he needed was thread and a sheet of paper with shingles.

Everyone has everything, but everyone is missing something.

The boys sit on the hill and grieve. Borya presses his sheet of shingles to his chest. Syoma clenched his threads into his fist. Petya hides his washcloth in his bosom.

A good breeze is blowing. Smooth. The friendly guys launched kites high into the sky. He waves his wet tail merrily. He pulls the thread tight. Beauty!

Borya, Syoma and Petya could also fly such a kite. Even better. They just haven’t learned to be friends yet. That's the problem.

Little Masha really wanted to grow up. Very. But she didn’t know how to do it. I tried everything. And I walked in my mother’s shoes. And she was sitting in my grandmother’s hood. And she did her hair like Aunt Katya’s. And I tried on beads. And she put the watch on her hand. Nothing worked. They just laughed at her and made fun of her.

One day Masha decided to sweep the floor. And swept it. Yes, she swept it so well that even my mother was surprised:

- Mashenka! Are you really getting big with us?

And when Masha washed the dishes clean and wiped them dry, then not only mother, but also father was surprised. He was surprised and said to everyone at the table:

“We didn’t even notice how Maria grew up with us.” He not only sweeps the floor, but also washes the dishes.

Now everyone calls little Masha big. And she feels like an adult, although she walks around in her tiny shoes and short dress. No hairstyle. No beads. No watch.

Apparently, they are not the ones who make little ones big.

Misha’s mother came home after work and clasped her hands:

- How did you, Mishenka, manage to break off a bicycle wheel?

- It, mom, broke off on its own.

- Why is your shirt torn, Mishenka?

- She, mommy, tore herself.

-Where did your other shoe go? Where did you lose it?

- He, Mom, got lost somewhere.

Then Misha’s mother said:

- How bad they all are! They, the scoundrels, need to be taught a lesson!

- But as? – Misha asked.

“Very simple,” my mother answered. “If they have learned to break themselves, to tear themselves apart, and to get lost themselves, let them learn to fix themselves, to sew themselves up, to find themselves.” And you and I, Misha, will sit at home and wait for them to do all this.

Misha sat down by the broken bicycle, in a torn shirt, without a shoe, and thought deeply. Apparently this boy had something to think about.

Yura lived in a large and friendly family. Everyone in this family worked. Only Yura was not working. He was only five years old.

Once, Yurina’s family went to catch fish and cook fish soup. They caught a lot of fish and gave them all to grandma. Yura also caught one fish. Ruff. And I also gave it to my grandmother. For fish soup.

Grandmother cooked fish soup. The whole family on the shore sat down around the pot and started praising their ears:

“That’s why our fish soup is delicious, because Yura caught a huge fish fish.” That’s why our fish soup is fatty and rich, because fish soup is fatter than catfish.

And even though Yura was small, he understood that the adults were joking. Is there a lot of profit from a tiny brush? But he was still happy. He was happy because his little fish was in the big family ear.

Nadya couldn’t do anything. Grandmother dressed Nadya, put on shoes, washed her, combed her hair.

Mom gave Nadya water from a cup, fed her from a spoon, put her to sleep, and lulled her to sleep.

Nadya heard about the kindergarten. The girlfriends are having fun playing there. They dance. They sing. They listen to fairy tales. Good for children in kindergarten. And Nadenka would have been happy there, but they didn’t take her there. They didn't accept it!

Nadya cried. Mom cried. Grandma cried.

– Why didn’t you accept Nadenka into kindergarten?

And in kindergarten they say:

- How can we accept her when she doesn’t know how to do anything?

Grandmother came to her senses, mother came to her senses. And Nadya caught herself. Nadya began to dress herself, put on her shoes, wash herself, eat, drink, comb her hair, and go to bed.

When they found out about this in kindergarten, they came for Nadya themselves. They came and took her to kindergarten, dressed, with shoes, washed, and combed her hair.

Katya had two eyes, two ears, two arms, two legs, and one tongue and one nose.

“Tell me, grandma,” asks Katya, “why do I only have two, and one tongue and one nose?”

“And therefore, dear granddaughter,” the grandmother answers, “so that you see more, hear more, do more, walk more and talk less, and don’t stick your snub nose where it shouldn’t.”

This, it turns out, is why there is only one tongue and one nose.

Mitya whittled the stick, whittled it and threw it away. It turned out to be an oblique stick.

Uneven. Ugly.

- How is this so? – Mitya’s father asks.

“The knife is bad,” Mitya answers, “it cuts askew.”

“No,” says the father, “the knife is good.” He's just in a hurry. It needs to be taught patience.

- But as? - asks Mitya.

“And so,” said the father.

He took the stick and began to plan it little by little, little by little, carefully.

Mitya understood how to teach a knife patience, and he also began to whittle little by little, little by little, carefully.

For a long time the hasty knife did not want to obey. He was in a hurry: he tried to swerve now and then at random, but it didn’t work out. Mitya forced him to be patient.

The knife became good at whittling. Smooth. Beautiful. Obediently.

Three girls once argued about which of them would be the best first-grader.

“I will be the best first-grader,” says Lyusya, “because my mother has already bought me a school bag.”

“No, I’ll be the best first-grader,” said Katya. “My mother sewed me a uniform dress with a white apron.”

“No, I... No, I,” Lenochka argues with her friends. “Not only do I have a school bag and a pencil case, not only do I have a uniform dress with a white apron, they also gave me two white ribbons in my braids.”

The girls argued like that, they argued - they became hoarse. They ran to their friend. To Masha.

Let her say which of them will be the best first-grader.

They came to Masha, and Masha was sitting at her ABC book.

“I don’t know, girls, who will be the best first-grader,” Masha answered. - I have no time. Today I have to learn three more letters.

- What for? - the girls ask.

“And then, so that you don’t end up being the worst, the very last first-grader,” said Masha and began to read the primer again.

Lucy, Katya and Lenochka became quiet. There was no more arguing about who would be the best first-grader. And so it is clear.

Vova grew up as a strong and strong boy. Everyone was afraid of him. And how can you not be afraid of this! He beat his comrades. He shot at the girls with a slingshot. He made faces at the adults. He stepped on the dog's tail, Cannon. He pulled out the whiskers of Murzey the cat.

I drove the prickly hedgehog under the closet. He was even rude to his grandmother.

Vova was not afraid of anyone. He was not afraid of anything. And he was very proud of this. I was proud, but not for long.

The day came when the boys did not want to play with him. They left him and that was it. He ran to the girls. But the girls, even the kindest ones, also turned away from him.