Harsh, demanding years. Options for test work on materials and form of the Unified State Exam

It may seem strange to someone, but I don’t complain at all about fate, remembering these four years. Now scrolling back the tape of more than forty years of life, weighing where, when and what I learned, I say without hesitation: the main school of life falls on these years.

The harsh, demanding years coincided for us, “military boys,” with the age-related laws of human upbringing. I deeply believe that lessons of courage, work and difficulties are also necessary for teenagers now. They must be consciously cultivated (in the family, at camp, at school), just as through physical education we make up for the lack of natural physical labor. At the right time, in the right doses. With a justified degree of risk, it is imperative to teach a person what life will certainly demand of him.

The question may be: “Toughening, difficulties... What about childhood? For the sake of the coming years, won’t a person lose his childhood?” Life experience says: no! Of course, there were situations during the war (and there were quite a few of them!) when a teenager put a box under his feet, sharpened shells on a machine next to adults, it is known: boys took part in partisan battles. Here everything happened as an adult, and life itself ended (it all happened!) at the age of thirteen.

But, remembering my own difficult childhood, I still see him. It was! It was with all the joys characteristic of this age. There was enough time for fun, for all sorts of inventions and games. The same trips to the forest for firewood... Of course, getting out of bed at four in the morning is not a sweet thing, and the burden on the way to the house was not easy. But there was something else. In the forest, a huge mysterious world opened up to the boys. A gang of five or six people used this world to the full extent of their imagination, curiosity and enterprise.

And there was also a river in our possession. We bathed horses, took crayfish out of their holes, rode on ice floes during high water (we got slapped on the back of the head for this), “caught fish. On a winter day in Nikolai we fought “fist to fist” - wall to wall according to the rules - with the boys of neighboring Boldinovka (a tradition that only dried up After the war). didn’t fall from a tree, didn’t get blown up, didn’t get dangerously frostbitten, didn’t get out of hand.

And I won’t say that we grew up wild. We went to school. And they read a lot, an amazing amount. The books, of course, were random. But if we talk about the efficiency of their work, it was enormous. Read it voraciously! There was always a line for a good book. And it was customary: if you read it, tell me! So we swapped books and what we learned from books. And it also happened: they read aloud, taking turns. So, I remember, we devoured “The Adventures of Gulliver”, “How the Steel Was Tempered”, “Amphibian Man”, “Ivanhoe”, “Dersu Uzala”. If at that time someone had told us: in ten to fifteen years it would be possible to sit at home in front of a box with a screen and see what was happening a thousand kilometers away, we would never have believed it. Now, watching the boys during the “Cinema Travel Club” program, I envy them, but at the same time I remember with gratitude the seats at the “smokehouse”. They left something in our souls, these winter evenings at the smokehouse!

What else grew out of childhood? I think observation, the desire to try everything, learn everything. In those days, it was impossible to expect that someone would bring the necessary, necessary thing into the house and that someone would carry out everyday tasks. They took on everything themselves. We learned from adults and from each other, our pride pushed us: Petka can do it, but why can I?

God knows how difficult our household chores were. And yet, I remember that

we knew how. We are five peers and classmates from the same street: Petka Belyaev, Volodka Smolyanov, Vaska Mironov, Vanya Nemchin and me. We knew how to mow, repair felt boots, insert the bottom into a bucket, clean the chimney in the stove, seal shoe covers, knew how to set up a saw, sharpen a scythe, fix a roof, make a ladder, a rake, weave a basket from brushwood, mix clay for plaster, load a cart of hay, grind grain, shear a sheep, clean a well, fit a hoop onto a tub. Posters for the school and village council were written using ink on wallpaper paper. On the collective farm we knew how to operate a threshing machine. We learned to follow the plow in the garden. And in the end we decided to make a cart with plow wheels, which made our trips to the forest for firewood easier... This is a simple life skill that we had to master.

Vasily Mikhailovich Peskov, in a fragment from the book “War and People,” raises the problem of raising a teenager during the war years. What is war? War means bitter tears, death, separation. But war also brings people enormous life experience.

War years are demanding and difficult years. The teenagers had to take on everything themselves. Children of that time knew how to mow, hem felt boots, insert the bottom into a bucket, make a ladder, a rake, and clean the chimney in the stove.

Indeed, at the right time, in the right

doses, it is imperative to teach a person what life will certainly demand of him.

Reflecting on education, I remember the work of I. A. Goncharov “Oblomov”. The mother of the main character I. Oblomov, when he was still just a boy, was preoccupied with love for her son, imposed her attention on him, thereby limiting him in many ways. I cannot blame her for her love for Ilya, but it was precisely because of this excessive love that he grew up into an apathetic, lazy and uninterested person, because his interest and curiosity were “trampled down” by his mother’s love in childhood.

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For us, “military boys,” the harsh, demanding years coincided with the age-related laws of human upbringing. And the teenagers did everything themselves. We learned from adults and from each other, our pride pushed us: Petka can do it, but why can I?

Composition

Perhaps it’s no secret that it is during childhood that a person’s personality, his interests, preferences and attitude towards the world around him are formed. It is not without reason that in this text V. Peskov raises the problem of the role of childhood in a person’s destiny. The author talks about “military boys” who were able to do a lot during difficult years. They skillfully performed household chores, read books, and thereby developed their powers of observation, the desire to try everything, to learn everything. In addition, V. Peskov says that every teenager should work, receive “lessons of courage”, which “must be consciously cultivated (in the family, in the camp, at school”). After all, a person must be able to solve life’s problems and be able to cope with them if necessary.

The author's position is that childhood and what a person does during this period, what life lessons he receives - all this influences his personal development, teaches him the necessary knowledge that will be useful in the future. I, of course, agree with the author’s position, because indeed everything that we learn from our experience from childhood is subsequently reflected in our adult life.

As an argument, I will turn to the work of L.N. Tolstoy's "War and Peace", in which Andrei Bolkonsky grew up in a military family. As a result, from childhood the hero knew about different tactics and strategies of warfare and had excellent military training. That is why, as he grew older, the hero showed himself during the war with the French. All his best qualities, such as valor, honor, dignity, certainly came from childhood, in which the hero laid the foundations for the formation of his personality.

Let us also remember V.P. Astafiev’s “The Horse with a Pink Mane,” in which the main character deceived his grandmother in his childhood and thereby learned a great life lesson. Having gone into the forest to pick berries, he collected only a few, and filled the rest of the basket with grass. The next day his grandmother went to sell berries to the market, but the boy never had time to inform her about the deception. And this action of the boy, which was caused, rather, by a childish prank, rather than by vile intentions, greatly influenced the formation of his personality. And all this will probably affect his adult life.

Thus, to summarize, we can conclude that childhood really plays a big role in a person’s destiny. It has a huge impact on the development of the child and his future life.

(1) For us, “military boys,” the harsh, demanding years coincided with the age-related laws of human upbringing. (2) Teenagers took on everything themselves. (3) We learned from adults and from each other, pride urged us: Petka can do it, but I why? (4) I remember what we could do. (5) We are five peers and classmates from the same street

Evgeny Dmitrievich. He said that he would lead a drama club, and selected several guys to participate in the production of “The Tale of the Priest and His Worker Balda” by A.S. Pushkin. For some reason I was sure that the role of Balda would go to me. When it came to me, I calmly read the assigned piece. So you will be Balda, - Yevgeny Dmitrievich screeched. And he exempted one boy, Zhora Kurkulia, who read with a strong accent, from participating in the production. I even felt sorry for Zhora. After all, Evgeny Dmitrievich, having freed him, hinted that he was no good. Can I just stay like this? - Zhora said and smiled without any offense. Evgeniy Dmitrievich shrugged his shoulders. Rehearsals began. After several classes, I suddenly got bored, felt that I was tired of the role of Balda, and began to play disgustingly. Meanwhile, Zhora Kurkulia kept coming to rehearsals and even became somehow necessary. He was the first to rush to move tables and chairs to clear space for the stage, open and close the windows. One day Evgeniy Dmitrievich offered him the role of the hind legs of a horse. Zhora agreed with pleasure. He got his role after the actor tried several times to show the boy playing the horse’s hind legs how to beat out the sound of the horse’s hooves with his feet, which the boy couldn’t do. That’s how it should be, - suddenly Zhora couldn’t stand it, jumped out and, stamping his feet, happily accurately portrayed a galloping horse. At the next rehearsal, suddenly a joyful neighing was heard from under the back of the horse’s belly. Evgeny Dmitrievich was delighted with this neighing. He immediately pulled Kurkulia out from under the horse and made him neigh several times. Kurkulia neighed joyfully and tenderly, ending with a snore, and in fact very similar to the sound with which a horse ends a neigh. So Zhora began to play the role the front legs of a horse, which, in addition to the ability to naturally gallop, acquired the ability to neigh naturally. Rehearsals continued, and I continued to cover up the mediocrity and even dishonesty of my performance with loudness. Once, when I forgot a line, the horse suddenly turned in my direction and dashingly uttered the right words, causing everyone to laugh. Sometimes Zhora gave hints to other guys. Apparently he learned the whole fairy tale by heart. One fine day, while playing football with the guys, I suddenly noticed that Zhora Kurkulia was running towards us from the side of the school, desperately gesticulating. I remembered that it was high time for me to go to rehearsal. When we arrived, Evgeny Dmitreevich suddenly said: Get dressed, Kurkulia! And you, the former Balda, will play a horse in his place... Although before that I had not experienced any joy from my role, I suddenly felt deeply offended and offended. The resentment was so deep that I was ashamed to protest against the horse, because then it would have become clear to everyone that I valued the role of Balda, which was taken from me. The rehearsal began, and it turned out that Kurkulia knew the text perfectly, and was clearly playing better than me. True, his pronunciation did not improve, but Evgeniy Dmitrievich was so pleased with his performance that he began to find dignity in his pronunciation. And when Zhora began to twist the rope with some kind of efficiency and faith that now he would twist the brains of all the devils with this rope, while never ceasing to listen to what was supposedly happening at the bottom, it became clear: I could not compete with him. To top it all off, my partner, who had previously played the role of the front legs, now asked to take his old place, because it turned out that I gallop and neigh much worse than him. So, starting with the main role of Balda, I moved to the very last role of the horse’s hind legs. The premiere was a huge success. When we left behind the curtains, the audience continued to clap their hands. And suddenly, unexpectedly, the light hit my eyes, and a new flurry of applause fell on our heads. It turns out that Evgeny Dmitrievich removed the cardboard horse's rump from us, and we appeared before the audience in our high red stockings, matching the color of the horse. Well: “curtain, maestro, curtain!”

(1) I live in a small house on the dunes. (2) The entire Riga seaside is covered in snow. (3) The sea goes hundreds of miles into the lead-black distances. (4) A small house stands like the last lighthouse on the edge of a foggy abyss. (5) The ground breaks off here. (6) There, to the west, behind a layer of darkness there is a small fishing village. (7) An ordinary fishing village with nets drying in the wind, with low houses and low smoke from chimneys, with black motorboats pulled out on the sand, and trusting dogs with shaggy hair. (8) Latvian fishermen have lived in this village for hundreds of years. (9) Generations replace each other. (10) But just like hundreds of years ago, fishermen go to sea for herring. (11) And the same. just like hundreds of years ago, not everyone comes back. (12) Especially in the fall, when the Baltic is furious with storms and boils with cold foam. (13) But, no matter what happens, no matter how many times you have to take off your hats when people learn about the death of their comrades, you still need to continue to do your job - dangerous and difficult, bequeathed by grandfathers and fathers. (14) You cannot give in to the sea. (15) There is a large granite boulder in the sea near the village. (16) A long time ago, fishermen carved the inscription on it: “In memory of all who died and will die at sea.” (17) This inscription can be seen from afar. (18) When I learned about this inscription, it seemed sad to me, like all epitaphs. (19) But the Latvian writer, who told me about it, did not agree with this and said: (20) - On the contrary. (21) This is a very courageous inscription. (22) She says that people will never give up and... no matter what, they will do their job. (23) I would put this inscription as an epigraph to any book about human labor and perseverance. (24) For me, this inscription sounds something like this: “In memory of those who have overcome and will overcome this sea.” (25) I agreed with him and thought that this epigraph would be suitable for a book about writing. (26) Writers cannot give up for a minute in the face of adversity and retreat in the face of obstacles. (27) No matter what happens, they must continuously do their job, bequeathed to them by their predecessors and entrusted by their contemporaries. (28) No wonder Saltykov-Shchedrin said that if “literature falls silent for even a minute, it will be tantamount to the death of the people.” (29) Writing is not a craft or an occupation. (ZO) Writing is a calling. (31) A person is never called to handicraft. (32) They call him only to fulfill his duty and difficult task. (33) What compels the writer to his sometimes painful, but wonderful work? (34) First of all, the call of your own heart. (35) The voice of conscience and faith in the future do not allow a true writer to live on earth like a barren flower, and not convey to people with complete generosity the entire enormous variety of thoughts and feelings that fill him. (36) A person becomes a writer not only at the call of his heart (37) The years of maturity come, and the writer clearly hears, in addition to the calling voice of his own heart, a new powerful call - the call of his time and his people, the call of humanity. (38) At the behest of his calling, in the name of his inner motivation, a person can perform miracles and endure the most difficult trials.