Name the signs of village life in sagebrush tales. Reviews on the book "wormwood tales" yuri koval

It was…

That was a long time ago.

This was when I still loved to get sick. But just don't hurt too much. Not to get sick so that they take you to the hospital and give you ten injections, but to get sick quietly, at home, when you are lying in bed, and they bring you tea with lemon.

In the evening, my mother comes running from work:

My God! What happened?!

Yes, nothing ... Everything is in order.

I need tea! Strong tea! - Mom worries.

You don't need anything... leave me.

My dear, dear ... - my mother whispers, hugs me, kisses me, and I moan. There were wonderful times.

Then my mother sat next to me on the bed and began to tell me something or drew a house and a cow on a piece of paper. That's all she could draw, a house and a cow, but I've never seen anyone draw a house and a cow so well in my life.

I lay and moaned and asked:

Another house, another cow!

And a lot turned out on a leaflet of houses and cows.

And then my mother told me stories.

These were strange stories. I have never read anything like this anywhere.

Many years passed before I realized that my mother was telling me about her life. And in my head everything fit like a fairy tale.

Year after year passed, the days flew by.

And this summer I got really sick.

It's a shame to get sick in the summer.

I lay on the bed, looked at the tops of the birches and remembered my mother's fairy tales.

The Tale of the Gray Stones

It was a long time ago... a very long time ago.

It was getting dark.

A rider raced across the steppe.

The horse's hooves beat dully into the ground, bogged down in deep dust. A cloud of dust rose behind the rider.

A fire burned along the road.

Four people were sitting by the fire, and some gray stones lay in the field aside from them.

The rider realized that these were not stones, but a herd of sheep.

He drove up to the fire, said hello.

The shepherds looked sullenly into the fire. No one answered the greeting, no one asked where he was going.

Finally one shepherd raised his head.

Stones, he said.

The rider did not understand the shepherd. He saw sheep, but he did not see stones. Whipping his horse, he galloped on.

He rushed to the place where the steppe merged with the earth, and an evening black cloud rose towards him. Clouds of dust crawled along the ground under a cloud.

The road led to a ravine with deep slopes. On the slope - red and clay - lay gray stones.

“These are certainly stones,” the rider thought, and flew into the ravine.

An evening cloud immediately covered him and white lightning stuck into the ground in front of the horse's hooves.

The horse darted to the side, lightning struck again - and the rider saw how the gray stones turned into animals with sharp ears.

The animals rolled down the slope, rushed under the horse's feet.

The horse snored, jumped up, hit with a hoof - and the rider flew out of the saddle.

He fell to the ground and hit his head on a rock. It was a real stone.

The horse sped off. Behind him, long gray stones crawled along the ground in pursuit. Only one stone remained on the ground. Pressing his head against him, lay a man who rushed to no one knows where.

Silent shepherds found him in the morning. They stood over him without saying a word.

They did not know that at the very moment when the rider hit the stone with his head, a new man appeared in the world.

And the rider raced to see this man.

A minute before his death, he thought:

“Who will be born? Son or daughter? It would be nice to have a daughter."

A girl was born. They named her Olga. And simply everyone called her - Lelya.

Tale of giant creatures

It was a hot July day.

There was a girl in the meadow. She saw green grass in front of her, on which large dandelions were scattered.

Run, Lelya, run! she heard. - Run faster.

I'm afraid, - Lyolya wanted to say, but she could not say.

Run Run. Do not be afraid of anything. Never be afraid of anything. Run!

“There are dandelions,” Lyolya wanted to say, but she could not say.

Run right over the dandelions.

“So they are ringing,” thought Lyolya, but quickly realized that she would not be able to say such a phrase, and she ran straight through the dandelions. She was sure they would ring under her feet.

But they were soft and did not ring underfoot. But the earth itself rang, dragonflies rang, a silver lark rang in the sky.

Lyolya ran for a long, long time and suddenly saw that a huge white creature was standing in front of her.

Lelya wanted to stop, but she could not stop.

And a huge creature beckoned with an unfamiliar finger, deliberately attracted to itself.

Lelya ran. And then a huge creature grabbed her and threw her into the air. Quietly my heart skipped a beat.

Don't be afraid, Lyolya, don't be afraid, - a voice was heard. Don't be afraid to be thrown into the air. You do know how to fly.

And Lyolya really tried to fly, flapped her wings, but did not fly far away, she again fell on her hands. Then she saw a broad face and small, small eyes. Black ones.

It's me, - said a huge creature - Marfusha. You will not know? Run back now.

And Lelya ran back. She ran through the dandelions again. They were warm and ticklish.

She ran for a long, long time and saw a new huge creature. Blue.

Mother! Lyolya shouted, and her mother picked her up in her arms and threw her into the sky:

Don't be afraid. Do not be afraid of anything. You can fly.

And Lyolya had already flown longer and, probably, could have flown as long as she wanted, but she herself wanted to fall into her mother's arms as soon as possible. And she descended from the sky, and mother with Lelya in her arms walked along the dandelions to the house.

Tale of some thing with a golden nose

It was… it was a long time ago. This was when Lelya learned to fly.

She flew every day now and always tried to land in her mother's arms. It was safer and more enjoyable that way.

She flew when she went outside, but at home she sometimes wanted to fly.

What can you do with you, - laughed my mother. - Fly.

And Lelya took off, but it was not interesting to fly in the room - the ceiling interfered, it was not possible to fly high.

But still she flew and flew. Of course, if it is not possible to fly outdoors, you need to fly indoors.

Well, that's it, stop flying, - my mother said. - Night in the yard, it's time to sleep. Fly now in a dream.

Nothing can be done - Lyolya went to bed and flew in a dream. And where are you going? If it is not possible to fly on the street or in the house, you need to fly in a dream.

Stop flying, my mother once said. - Learn how to walk. Go.

And Lelya went. Where she went, she didn't know.

Go bold. Don't be afraid of anything.

And she went. And as soon as she moved away, something muffled rang over her head:

Don! Don!

Lelya was frightened, but not immediately frightened.

She raised her head and saw: hanging high on the wall some thing with a golden nose. She shook her nose, and her face was round, white, like Marfushi's, only there were too many eyes.

"What's that thing with the golden nose?" Lelya wanted to ask, but she couldn't ask. Somehow the tongue hasn't turned yet. And I wanted to talk.

Lyolya plucked up courage and asked this thing:

Are you flying?

So, - the thing answered and waved its nose. She waved fearfully.

Lyolya was frightened again, but then again she was not frightened.

“But you don’t fly - well, okay,” Lyolya wanted to say, but again she failed to say it. She simply waved her hand at the thing, and she waved her nose in response. Lelya again with her hand, and that with her nose.

So they waved for a while - some with their noses, and some with their hands.

Okay, that's enough, - said Lelya. - I went.

She walked on, and it became dark around her. She took a step into the darkness, walked two steps, and changed her mind about going further. Still, it was embarrassing in front of this thing that does not fly, but only shakes its golden nose. Maybe she can still fly?

Lyolya came back, stood, looked: no, she doesn’t fly at all. Shakes his nose - and that's it.

And then Lelya herself wanted to fly up to this thing and grab her by the nose so that she would not hang out in vain.

And she flew up and grabbed her by the nose.

And the golden nose stopped swaying, and Lyolya sank down into her mother's arms.

This is a clock, Leles, you must not touch it.

“Why are they talking with their noses all the time?” - Lyolya wanted to ask, but her tongue did not turn again. And I wanted to talk about hours.

Fly? she asked.

No, they don't fly, - Mom laughed. - They walk or stand.

The tale of the porch and the mound

And that was when Lyolya stopped pulling the wall clock by the nose.

She decided now to walk and stand. Like a clock.

And she kept walking and standing, walking and standing. It will reach hours, it will stand.

I walk and stand, she said. - I walk and stand.

The clock ticked back, waving its golden nose, which was called a pendulum. But Lyolya forgot about the pendulum, she now thought that it was not only a nose, but also such a golden leg. A sort of nose-leg. Here the clock goes with this nose-foot. And you can’t pull your nose-leg - the clock will become. And I want to pull. Okay, let's move on.

It was…

That was a long time ago.

This was when I still loved to get sick. But just don't hurt too much. Not to get sick so that they take you to the hospital and give you ten injections, but to get sick quietly, at home, when you are lying in bed, and they bring you tea with lemon.

In the evening, my mother comes running from work:

My God! What happened?!

Yes, nothing ... Everything is in order.

I need tea! Strong tea! - Mom worries.

You don't need anything... leave me.

My dear, dear ... - my mother whispers, hugs me, kisses me, and I moan. There were wonderful times.

Then my mother sat next to me on the bed and began to tell me something or drew a house and a cow on a piece of paper. That's all she could draw, a house and a cow, but I've never seen anyone draw a house and a cow so well in my life.

I lay and moaned and asked:

Another house, another cow!

And a lot turned out on a leaflet of houses and cows.

And then my mother told me stories.

These were strange stories. I have never read anything like this anywhere.

Many years passed before I realized that my mother was telling me about her life. And in my head everything fit like a fairy tale.

Year after year passed, the days flew by.

And this summer I got really sick.

It's a shame to get sick in the summer.

I lay on the bed, looked at the tops of the birches and remembered my mother's fairy tales.

The Tale of the Gray Stones

It was a long time ago... a very long time ago.

It was getting dark.

A rider raced across the steppe.

The horse's hooves beat dully into the ground, bogged down in deep dust. A cloud of dust rose behind the rider.

A fire burned along the road.

Four people were sitting by the fire, and some gray stones lay in the field aside from them.

The rider realized that these were not stones, but a herd of sheep.

He drove up to the fire, said hello.

The shepherds looked sullenly into the fire. No one answered the greeting, no one asked where he was going.

Finally one shepherd raised his head.

Stones, he said.

The rider did not understand the shepherd. He saw sheep, but he did not see stones. Whipping his horse, he galloped on.

He rushed to the place where the steppe merged with the earth, and an evening black cloud rose towards him. Clouds of dust crawled along the ground under a cloud.

The road led to a ravine with deep slopes. On the slope - red and clay - lay gray stones.

“These are certainly stones,” the rider thought, and flew into the ravine.

An evening cloud immediately covered him and white lightning stuck into the ground in front of the horse's hooves.

The horse darted to the side, lightning struck again - and the rider saw how the gray stones turned into animals with sharp ears.

The animals rolled down the slope, rushed under the horse's feet.

The horse snored, jumped up, hit with a hoof - and the rider flew out of the saddle.

He fell to the ground and hit his head on a rock. It was a real stone.

The horse sped off. Behind him, long gray stones crawled along the ground in pursuit. Only one stone remained on the ground. Pressing his head against him, lay a man who rushed to no one knows where.

Silent shepherds found him in the morning. They stood over him without saying a word.

They did not know that at the very moment when the rider hit the stone with his head, a new man appeared in the world.

And the rider raced to see this man.

A minute before his death, he thought:

“Who will be born? Son or daughter? It would be nice to have a daughter."

A girl was born. They named her Olga. And simply everyone called her - Lelya.

Tale of giant creatures

It was a hot July day.

There was a girl in the meadow. She saw green grass in front of her, on which large dandelions were scattered.

Run, Lelya, run! she heard. - Run faster.

I'm afraid, - Lyolya wanted to say, but she could not say.

Run Run. Do not be afraid of anything. Never be afraid of anything. Run!

“There are dandelions,” Lyolya wanted to say, but she could not say.

Run right over the dandelions.

“So they are ringing,” thought Lyolya, but quickly realized that she would not be able to say such a phrase, and she ran straight through the dandelions. She was sure they would ring under her feet.

But they were soft and did not ring underfoot. But the earth itself rang, dragonflies rang, a silver lark rang in the sky.

Lyolya ran for a long, long time and suddenly saw that a huge white creature was standing in front of her.

Lelya wanted to stop, but she could not stop.

And a huge creature beckoned with an unfamiliar finger, deliberately attracted to itself.

Lelya ran. And then a huge creature grabbed her and threw her into the air. Quietly my heart skipped a beat.

Don't be afraid, Lyolya, don't be afraid, - a voice was heard. Don't be afraid to be thrown into the air. You do know how to fly.

And Lyolya really tried to fly, flapped her wings, but did not fly far away, she again fell on her hands. Then she saw a broad face and small, small eyes. Black ones.

It's me, - said a huge creature - Marfusha. You will not know? Run back now.

And Lelya ran back. She ran through the dandelions again. They were warm and ticklish.

She ran for a long, long time and saw a new huge creature. Blue.

Mother! Lyolya shouted, and her mother picked her up in her arms and threw her into the sky:

Don't be afraid. Do not be afraid of anything. You can fly.

And Lyolya had already flown longer and, probably, could have flown as long as she wanted, but she herself wanted to fall into her mother's arms as soon as possible. And she descended from the sky, and mother with Lelya in her arms walked along the dandelions to the house.

Tale of some thing with a golden nose

It was… it was a long time ago. This was when Lelya learned to fly.

She flew every day now and always tried to land in her mother's arms. It was safer and more enjoyable that way.

She flew when she went outside, but at home she sometimes wanted to fly.

What can you do with you, - laughed my mother. - Fly.

And Lelya took off, but it was not interesting to fly in the room - the ceiling interfered, it was not possible to fly high.

But still she flew and flew. Of course, if it is not possible to fly outdoors, you need to fly indoors.

Well, that's it, stop flying, - my mother said. - Night in the yard, it's time to sleep. Fly now in a dream.

Nothing can be done - Lyolya went to bed and flew in a dream. And where are you going? If it is not possible to fly on the street or in the house, you need to fly in a dream.

Stop flying, my mother once said. - Learn how to walk. Go.

And Lelya went. Where she went, she didn't know.

Go bold. Don't be afraid of anything.

And she went. And as soon as she moved away, something muffled rang over her head:

Don! Don!

Lelya was frightened, but not immediately frightened.

She raised her head and saw: hanging high on the wall some thing with a golden nose. She shook her nose, and her face was round, white, like Marfushi's, only there were too many eyes.

"What's that thing with the golden nose?" Lelya wanted to ask, but she couldn't ask. Somehow the tongue hasn't turned yet. And I wanted to talk.

Lyolya plucked up courage and asked this thing:

Are you flying?

So, - the thing answered and waved its nose. She waved fearfully.

Lyolya was frightened again, but then again she was not frightened.

“But you don’t fly - well, okay,” Lyolya wanted to say, but again she failed to say it. She simply waved her hand at the thing, and she waved her nose in response. Lelya again with her hand, and that with her nose.

So they waved for a while - some with their noses, and some with their hands.

Okay, that's enough, - said Lelya. - I went.

Current page: 1 (total book has 7 pages)

Yuri Koval
Wormwood Tales

Tale of old times

It was…

That was a long time ago.

This was when I still loved to get sick. But just don't hurt too much. Not to get sick so that they take you to the hospital and give you ten injections, but to get sick quietly, at home, when you are lying in bed, and they bring you tea with lemon.

In the evening, my mother comes running from work:

- My God! What happened?!

- Yes, nothing ... Everything is in order.

- I need tea! Strong tea! Mom worries.

“You don’t need anything… leave me alone.

“My dear, dear ...” mum whispers, hugs me, kisses me, and I moan. There were wonderful times.

Then my mother sat next to me on the bed and began to tell me something or drew a house and a cow on a piece of paper. That's all she could draw, a house and a cow, but I've never seen anyone draw a house and a cow so well in my life.

I lay and moaned and asked:

“One more house, one more cow!”

And a lot turned out on a leaflet of houses and cows.

And then my mother told me stories.

These were strange stories. I have never read anything like this anywhere.

Many years passed before I realized that my mother was telling me about her life. And in my head everything fit like a fairy tale.

Year after year passed, the days flew by.

And this summer I got really sick.

It's a shame to get sick in the summer.

I lay on the bed, looked at the tops of the birches and remembered my mother's fairy tales.

The Tale of the Gray Stones

It was a long time ago... a very long time ago.

It was getting dark.

A rider raced across the steppe.

The horse's hooves beat dully into the ground, bogged down in deep dust. A cloud of dust rose behind the rider.

A fire burned along the road.

Four people were sitting by the fire, and some gray stones lay in the field aside from them.

The rider realized that these were not stones, but a herd of sheep.

He drove up to the fire, said hello.

The shepherds looked sullenly into the fire. No one answered the greeting, no one asked where he was going.

Finally one shepherd raised his head.

“Stones,” he said.

The rider did not understand the shepherd. He saw sheep, but he did not see stones. Whipping his horse, he galloped on.

He rushed to the place where the steppe merged with the earth, and an evening black cloud rose towards him. Clouds of dust crawled along the ground under a cloud.

The road led to a ravine with deep slopes. On the slope - red and clay - lay gray stones.

“These are certainly stones,” the rider thought, and flew into the ravine.

An evening cloud immediately covered him and white lightning stuck into the ground in front of the horse's hooves.

The horse darted to the side, lightning struck again - and the rider saw how the gray stones turned into animals with sharp ears.

The animals rolled down the slope, rushed under the horse's feet.

The horse snored, jumped up, hit with a hoof - and the rider flew out of the saddle.

He fell to the ground and hit his head on a rock. It was a real stone.

The horse sped off. Behind him, long gray stones crawled along the ground in pursuit. Only one stone remained on the ground. Pressing his head against him, lay a man who rushed to no one knows where.

Silent shepherds found him in the morning. They stood over him without saying a word.

They did not know that at the very moment when the rider hit the stone with his head, a new man appeared in the world.

And the rider raced to see this man.

A minute before his death, he thought:

“Who will be born? Son or daughter? It would be nice to have a daughter."

A girl was born. They named her Olga. And simply everyone called her - Lelya.

Tale of giant creatures

It was a hot July day.

There was a girl in the meadow. She saw green grass in front of her, on which large dandelions were scattered.

- Run, Lelya, run! she heard. - Run faster.

“I’m afraid,” Lyolya wanted to say, but she couldn’t say.

- Run Run. Do not be afraid of anything. Never be afraid of anything. Run!

“There are dandelions,” Lyolya wanted to say, but she could not say.

- Run straight through the dandelions.

“But they are ringing,” thought Lyolya, but quickly realized that she would not be able to say such a phrase, and she ran straight through the dandelions. She was sure they would ring under her feet.

But they were soft and did not ring underfoot. But the earth itself rang, dragonflies rang, a silver lark rang in the sky.

Lyolya ran for a long, long time and suddenly saw that a huge white creature was standing in front of her.

Lelya wanted to stop, but she could not stop.

And a huge creature beckoned with an unfamiliar finger, deliberately attracted to itself.

Lelya ran. And then a huge creature grabbed her and threw her into the air. Quietly my heart skipped a beat.

“Don’t be afraid, Lelya, don’t be afraid,” a voice said. Don't be afraid to be thrown into the air. You do know how to fly.

And Lyolya really tried to fly, flapped her wings, but did not fly far away, she again fell on her hands. Then she saw a broad face and small, small eyes. Black ones.

- It's me, - said a huge creature - Marfusha. You will not know? Run back now.

And Lelya ran back. She ran through the dandelions again. They were warm and ticklish.

She ran for a long, long time and saw a new huge creature. Blue.

- Mother! Lyolya shouted, and her mother picked her up in her arms and threw her into the sky:

- Don't be afraid. Do not be afraid of anything. You can fly.

And Lyolya had already flown longer and, probably, could have flown as long as she wanted, but she herself wanted to fall into her mother's arms as soon as possible. And she descended from the sky, and mother with Lelya in her arms walked along the dandelions to the house.

Tale of some thing with a golden nose

It was… it was a long time ago. This was when Lelya learned to fly.

She flew every day now and always tried to land in her mother's arms. It was safer and more enjoyable that way.

She flew when she went outside, but at home she sometimes wanted to fly.

“What are you going to do?” Mom laughed. - Fly.

And Lyolya took off, but it was not interesting to fly in the room - the ceiling interfered, it was not possible to fly high.

But still she flew and flew. Of course, if it is not possible to fly outdoors, you need to fly indoors.

“Well, stop flying,” my mother said. - Night in the yard, it's time to sleep. Fly now in a dream.

Nothing can be done - Lyolya went to bed and flew in a dream. And where are you going? If it is not possible to fly on the street or in the house, you need to fly in a dream.

“Stop flying,” my mother once said. - Learn how to walk. Go.

And Lelya went. Where she went, she didn't know.

- Go boldly. Don't be afraid of anything.

And she went. And as soon as she moved away, something muffled rang over her head:

- Don! Don!

Lelya was frightened, but not immediately frightened.

She raised her head and saw: hanging high on the wall some thing with a golden nose. She shook her nose, and her face was round, white, like Marfushi's, only there were too many eyes.

"What's that thing with the golden nose?" Lelya wanted to ask, but she couldn’t ask. Somehow the tongue hasn't turned yet. And I wanted to talk.

Lyolya plucked up courage and asked this thing:

- Do you fly?

“Yes,” the thing replied, waving its nose. She waved fearfully.

Lyolya was frightened again, but then again she was not frightened.

“But you don’t fly - well, okay,” Lyolya wanted to say, but again she failed to say it. She simply waved at the thing with her hand, and she waved her nose in response. Lelya again with her hand, and that with her nose.

So they waved for a while - some with their noses, and some with their hands.

“Okay, that’s enough,” Lelya said. - I went.

She walked on, and it became dark around her. She took a step into the darkness, walked two steps, and changed her mind about going further. Still, it was embarrassing in front of this thing that does not fly, but only shakes its golden nose. Maybe she can still fly?

Lyolya came back, stood, looked: no, she doesn’t fly at all. Shakes his nose - and that's it.

And then Lelya herself wanted to fly up to this thing and grab her by the nose so that she would not hang out in vain.

And she flew up and grabbed her by the nose.

And the golden nose stopped swaying, and Lyolya sank down into her mother's arms.

- This is a watch, Leles, you can’t touch it.

“Why are they talking with their noses all the time?” - Lyolya wanted to ask, but her tongue did not turn again. And I wanted to talk about hours.

- Do they fly? she asked.

“No, they don’t fly,” Mom laughed. They are walking or standing.

The tale of the porch and the mound

And that was when Lyolya stopped pulling the wall clock by the nose.

She decided now to walk and stand. Like a clock.

And she kept walking and standing, walking and standing. It will reach hours, it will stand.

“I walk and I stand,” she said. - I walk and stand.

The clock ticked back, waving its golden nose, which was called a pendulum. But Lyolya forgot about the pendulum, she now thought that it was not only a nose, but also such a golden leg. A sort of nose-leg. Here the clock goes with this nose-foot. And you can’t pull your nose-leg - the clock will become. And I want to pull. Okay, let's move on.

“But I can be,” thought Lyolya and pulled her own nose, and then sat on the floor and pulled her leg.

The clock paid no attention to all these things.

And Lelya again went forward, into the darkness. And I saw a bright gap in the darkness, from which light came. And it so happened that Lelya stuck her nose into her. And of course, the gap could pinch her nose every second, because there was a door. But she didn't pinch.

“Does not pinch,” thought Lelya. - Lucky.

And she pushed open the door and went out onto the porch.

The light, green and gold, blinded her, and behind the light - green and gold - she saw a meadow and dandelions and was very happy. She was so happy, as if she had never seen them before. But before, they brought her here in their arms, but now she herself has reached. It's important to get to where you want to be.

Lyolya sat down on the porch and began to look at what she herself had come to.

“I got to the dandelions,” she thought. - Got it. And it was difficult. The corridor is so dark, and even this crack in the door. In vain I stuck my nose in it. Never again."

So she sat, and so she thought approximately and admired what she looked at.

"What am I sitting on?" she thought suddenly. She turned her gaze to the porch. It was a cozy porch, boarded, with carved columns, with a canopy so that the rain would not drip on the one who was sitting on the porch.

She tapped on the carved column, and the porch answered softly.

“The porch,” thought Lelya. - Porch. Although not a wing, it probably flies. Let it fly, and I will sit on it and look at the meadow and dandelions.

But the porch did not fly anywhere.

"Well, okay," Leia thought. But it's good to sit on it. I will always sit on it.

Now every day she went to the clock, then walked along the corridor and sat on the steps of the porch.

She loved her porch very much and called it the porch.

The kitten Vaska often sat next to her, the piglet Fedya came up.

“Scratch my belly,” the pig seemed to say, and rubbed against her leg.

And Lyolya scratched his belly.

For some reason, by the way, she immediately realized that Fedya the piglet did not fly. And it's not about the wings. Wings can be attached to the piglet. And just those who scratch their belly can't fly. Either fly or scratch your belly.

So Lyolya sat on the porch, thinking about the belly, about the piglet and about flying.

“Of course Fedya doesn’t fly,” she thought. “But you can probably sit on it. Like on a porch."

Lyolya got off the porch, went up to the little pig and just wanted to sit on it - and Fedya ran away.

"Stop, Fedor!" - Lyolya wanted to say, but she didn’t have time to say it and flopped into the grass. She was not upset that the pig ran away - she was glad that she could sit on the grass.

Lelya looked around and saw that her mother was sitting not far from her. And she does not sit on the porch, not on the grass, and, of course, not on the little pig Fedya, but on something completely different.

- Come here, come. Sit on the bench next to me. She doesn't fly.

But Lelya herself understood that the mound does not fly, of course - it fills up, the house fills up from below, so that the wind does not get under the house, and with the wind - frost and snow.

It was a good mound, lined with gray boards. And you could sit on it, and not only sit, but even run around the mound around the house. And Lyolya ran along the mound, tapped her bare heels on the gray boards, and then sat and looked at the meadow and dandelions.

“You can also sit on a chair,” Lyolya thought. - Sit and stare at the wall. But can a chair be compared with a porch and a mound, and a wall with a meadow and dandelions? Never in my life."

And then Lelya realized that the main thing is not that you can sit on the porch, the main thing is that she has this porch and a mound, and a meadow, and dandelions.

And you can sit on anything.

Yes, even on a chair, or even on a pig Fedya, if you tell him in time:

Stop, Fedor!

Tale of the next room

Finally, Lelya realized that she lives in the house. The house is in a big clearing. And beyond the clearing, other houses are visible. And people live in them.

And the house in which Lelya herself lives is called a school.

“Are those houses over there also schools?” she asked when she learned how to ask properly.

- No, it's just at home.

- Is this our house?

Is he a house?

- Where is the school?

- Yes, here she is. Our home is the school. This is where children learn.

So Lelya realized that she did not live in a simple house, but at a school.

The school began from the porch, and, going up the stairs, it was necessary to run through the corridor, which was always dark, - here you will find yourself in the gatehouse, in which the school watchman grandfather Ignat lived.

Two doors led from the gatehouse into the depths of the school. One is to the left, the other is to the right.

And to the left was Lelya's room, and it had three windows.

Through one window you could see how the children were running on the school meadow, through the other - the roofs of houses, those simple houses, not schools. They had thatched roofs and a dusty road wound between the houses. Horses walked along the road, people rode carts.

And through the third window, a lilac was visible, and there was no greater beauty than this lilac in the world.

When the lilac blossomed, everything around was full of lilacs - both the windows and the sky in the windows.

There was a bed in Lyolya's room with bright silver balls, and three pillows lay on it at once. And the pillows had fluff inside! Duck, goose and chicken down! Blimey! Lyolya did not expect this at all, that the pillows have fluff inside.

But fluff, after all, is nonsense. There is fluff in the pillows, a table and chairs in every house, but there was nowhere such a huge yellow and tall thing that stood against the wall.

The piece was called a pulpit.

One could climb the pulpit and speak.

And Lyolya climbed onto the pulpit and made a speech.

- And in the pillows - fluff! she said. - Duck, goose and chicken! That's how!

And the wall clock listened to Lelya, wondering about the pillows.

The pulpit was painted with yellow oil paint. Not some simple paint, but oil paint.

- Our pulpit is painted with oil paint! - Lyolya explained from the pulpit to the wall clock. – That's how!

And in the department, in a special box, there was something.

There were notebooks, pens and pens!

And there was something else! Ink!

That's it! Ink! That's it!

And next to Lyolina's room was - Neighboring. And next to the next room it was impossible to cry.

When Lyolya was still very small and was still in the cradle, she wanted to cry.

But as soon as she started this business, someone immediately approached her and said:

- Hush ... hush ... do not cry ... you can not ... there - The next room.

“What nonsense? Lela thought. “You can cry everywhere, but you can’t here!” Some kind of mystery!

And then she decided once and for all to stop crying, since the next room was nearby. And she stopped, and in her whole future life she did not cry. And she cried only when it was impossible to resist.

So Lyolya lived next to the next room and did not cry, but only looked closely at what was happening in this room.

And that's what she noticed.

She noticed that some small people were walking into this room. Back and forth. They will come - they will go. They will come again.

And in the room behind the wall, something was going on all the time. There was silence, then suddenly noise, hubbub and screams began. Such screams that if Lyolya had cried, no one in the next room would have heard. And when screams were heard in the next room - Lyolya cried a little to take her soul away; the screams subsided - she also fell silent.

When Lyolya learned to walk, she, of course, immediately went to the next room.

And as soon as she opened the door, as soon as she looked in, she immediately realized - the Magic Room!

She saw such things, such strange things, which it was impossible to name!

Then it turned out that all these things have names.

Board - that was the name of a long and black thing with legs. You could write on the blackboard with chalk, and then erase the chalk with a cloth.

Desks - that was the name of those amazing things that stood in three rows in the middle of the room. On these desks, small people sat - the students. And there were many more amazing things - a globe, and bookcases, and maps, and pointers, and abacus. And this whole room with all the things was called a class, and Lyolina's mother was a teacher.

She, it turns out, taught students.

And Lyolya thought for a long time, what does her mother teach them ?! And then I realized that my mother teaches to fly!

When there is silence in the class, it is their mother who teaches them, and when the noise starts, it means they all flew at once.

And Lelya imagined how little students flew together over their desks - some somersaulting in the air, some laughing, some screaming and just waving their arms.

And her mother flies above all and best of all over the board!

Tale of the Main Man

And, of course, her mother was the Main Person in the world.

It was clearer than ever.

When my mother walked with Lelya on the lawn near the school, they often met people - big and small.

The little ones circled around their mother. They run ahead and shout:

- Tatyana Dmitrievna, hello!

And then they run around and again:

- Hello, Tatyana Dmitrievna!

And so endlessly: hello, hello!

Many of them ran and said hello.

And big people didn't run and didn't shout, but only bowed and took off their hats. And Lyolina's mother bowed in response.

Once on the road they came across a very large and wide man. Dark matter enveloped him from head to toe, and a tall black trumpet stood on his head.

But only from the chimney of the house the smoke rises upward, and here it swirled below. And Lyolya guessed that it was not smoke, but a curly beard.

Mom stopped. A man with a pipe on his head also stopped.

And my mother bowed first. But the man with the trumpet did not bow, he waved his hand in the air and extended this hand to my mother.

He pulled and pulled his hand, and Lelya did not understand why.

Lyolya's mother, it seems, should have done something, but did nothing. She took Lelya in her arms and walked past a man with a pipe on his head.

- Who is it? – Lelya whispered when they passed by.

- This is Father Pop.

"Wow! Lela thought. - Father pop! Why was he raising his hand?

- I want to kiss her.

"Why didn't you kiss her?" - Lyolya wanted to ask, but did not ask, but only thought.

And my mother answered:

Yes, I don't want anything.

And Lelya realized that even though the priest is the main person, and mother, whatever one may say, is still more important.

The Tale of Grandfather Ignat

And this was already after Lyolya realized who the main person in the world was.

She learned that there are many, many people and many things in the world, and her mother has many students - both Marfusha and Maxim, and other guys. And their mother does not teach them to fly at all, she teaches them to read and write.

And grandfather Ignat lived at school.

Big and strong grandfather. He chopped wood.

He swings his ax and grunts so that the chock scatters in half.

Then the grandfather gathered firewood in an armful and dragged it to school, and Lyolya dragged one log after him.

Grandfather Ignat threw firewood on the floor, and they crashed with a roar, and grandfather said:

- Well, here we come...

And Lelya threw her log. And there was less noise. But still it was.

Grandfather Ignat stoked the stoves. And there were two of them at school - Russian and Dutch. And the Russian was larger than the Dutch and ate more firewood.

Having lit the stove, grandfather Ignat looked at the wall clock, took out a bell and rang loudly.

And then the classroom doors opened - and all the students ran out at once into the gatehouse. And the eldest and kindest student of Marfush picked up Lelya in her arms. And all the guys, and Marfusha with Lyolya in their arms, ran out into the street, scattering across the clearing, but grandfather Ignat soon rang the bell again, and everyone returned to school. And as soon as the guys tumbled into the gatehouse, the grandfather said:

- Well, here we are!

It was his favorite phrase.

It will rain outside - grandfather says:

- Well, here we are.

The samovar will boil:

- Well, here we are.

Guests will arrive:

- Well, here we are.

Once Lyolya told her grandfather that the porch and the dam still fly. Only late at night when everyone is asleep. Grandfather Ignat did not believe it, scratched his head, was surprised.

And Lyolya went to bed early that day on purpose. And fell asleep. She slept, but she still saw and heard everything.

“Hey, mound,” said the porch. - Are you sleeping?

- No, - answered the mound, - I'm taking a nap.

- Let's fly.

And they took off and flew to fly over the village.

And grandfather Ignat was just returning home.

He saw how a porch and a blockage were flying over the village - he was very surprised. And when a school pulpit painted with oil paint appeared in the sky, grandfather sat down in the grass and said:

- Well, here we are.

The Tale of the Wormwood

Polynovtsy often told fairy tales to their children. But the most surprising thing is that fairy tales were told and so simply they spoke to each other in a special, wormwood language. It seemed that the words and the very sounds of their voices were pierced by the steppe wind, saturated with wormwood.

Long ago, in ancient times, people came here from the North, from the rocky frosty mountains. They stopped in the middle of the endless steppe - they were struck by the steppe, flooded with the sun, delighted with the smell of wormwood.

They remained to live in the steppe, and a village was born near the road - Polynovka.

And around were Russian villages, Russian cities. The Russian land sheltered the Polynovtsy, became their native land.

And so it happened that another people lived next to the Russian people - the Polynovtsy. In fact, this people was called - Moksha, and the land around - Mordovia.

That's really someone who was hard, so it's Tatyana Dmitrievna. She was Russian and taught the Polynovians to read and write in Russian, because there were no books in Polynov in those distant times.

Here, for example, in a lesson Tatyana Dmitrievna asks a student:

- Where is your notebook?

And he answers:

- Roll the scythe ...

"What braid? Tatyana Dmitrievna thinks. - Where to roll it? No, I won’t roll my scythe.”

And she had a braid - a big, beautiful braid, which she sometimes laid around her head, and sometimes let loose over her shoulders.

- Where is your notebook? Where did you take her?

- Roll the goat ...

This was still not enough - to roll a goat!

And in the wormwood language, “kati kosa” means “I don’t know where”, and “kati goat” means “I don’t know where”.

There were many more strange and beautiful words among the Polynovtsy, and Lyolya understood all these words. She spoke two languages ​​at once from childhood.

And there was an amazing word - "break".

In the Polynov language, this word meant “man”.

And Lyolya thought: why is a person “break”, because people do not break, they walk so firmly and proudly along the road?

One day she saw an old grandmother. The grandmother was completely hunched over, barely walking along the road, leaning on a stick.

“Grandmother, grandmother,” Lyolya ran up to her. - Are you a cracker?

- Break, daughter, break. I'm still human.

Lyolya looked after her and thought for a long time and realized that life can really break a person, and most importantly, so that it does not break.

So in Lyolya's head two languages ​​\u200b\u200bmerged - Russian and Polynovo, they helped each other. Sometimes Lelya did not understand something in Russian, but she understood in Polynovsky.

Otherwise, what good, they will tell us: “roll the goat”, and we will grab some goat and roll it I don’t know where.

It was...

That was a long time ago.

This was when I still loved to get sick. But just don't hurt too much. Not to be so sick that they take you to the hospital and give you ten injections, but to get sick quietly, at home, when you are lying in bed, and they bring you tea with lemon.

In the evening, my mother comes running from work:

- My God! What happened?!

- Yes, nothing ... Everything is in order.

- I need tea! Strong tea! Mom worries.

“You don’t need anything… leave me alone.

“My dear, dear ...” mum whispers, hugs me, kisses me, and I moan. There were wonderful times.

Then my mother sat next to me on the bed and began to tell me something or drew a house and a cow on a piece of paper. That's all she could draw, a house and a cow, but I've never seen anyone draw a house and a cow so well in my life.

I lay and moaned and asked:

“One more house, one more cow!”

And a lot turned out on a leaflet of houses and cows.

And then my mother told me stories.

These were strange stories. I have never read anything like this anywhere.

Many years passed before I realized that my mother was telling me about her life. And in my head everything fit like a fairy tale.

Year after year passed, the days flew by.

And this summer I got really sick.

It's a shame to get sick in the summer. I lay on the bed, looked at the tops of the birches and remembered my mother's fairy tales.

Tale of Holiday Poems

Something muffled knocked on the window - and Lyolya woke up.

She opened her eyes and did not immediately understand what had happened.

The room was light and bright. Weird, huge and festive.

She ran to the window and immediately saw - snow!

The snow has fallen! Snow!

Under the window stood a bear-soldier and made a snowball. He aimed, threw, and deftly hit, not at the glass, but at the window frame. Here, it turns out, what a dull knock woke Lelya.

- Well, wait, Mishka! Lyolya shouted through the glass and, without even washing herself, ran out into the street.

She jumped out onto the porch, made a snowball and threw Mishka right in the forehead, but hit grandfather Ignat. It was the second blind, but before she had time to finish, grandfather Ignat rang the bell - it's time, it's time, it's time! Time for a lesson!

And the school bell had a special and festive bell today.

Snow fell, fell, snow fell - and the village of Polynovka was transformed, dried, withered grass disappeared under the snow, dark thatched roofs became light, and new smoke poured from the chimneys - snowy, winter.

- Well, guys, - said Tatyana Dmitrievna, - today we have a real holiday! The first snow fell! Let's celebrate!

— How to celebrate? How is it, Tatyana Dmitrievna? Pancakes, or what, bake?

Or snow pies?

“Pancakes later,” the teacher smiled. And then pies. First of all, we will read holiday poems. At the festival, it is necessary to read poetry.

The guys fell silent. They, of course, did not know that poetry should be read at the celebration.

Tatyana Dmitrievna took out a book and began to read:

Winter!.. The peasant, triumphant,

On firewood updates the path;

His horse, smelling snow,

Trotting somehow...

And while Tatyana Dmitrievna was reading, it was quiet and quiet in the classroom, and it was white and white outside the window.

The guys, of course, understood that these poems are special, really festive.

They also understood the words "winter", "peasant", "horse". They figured out that the “woods” are sleighs on which they carry firewood. But they did not understand three words: “triumphant”, “sense”, “renews”.

And Tatyana Dmitrievna began to explain:

Triumphant means rejoicing. The snow has fallen. Now there is no need to knead mud on a cart, on a sled it is much more pleasant to roll in the snow. So today we are rejoicing, celebrating, because a great event has happened in nature - snow has fallen! It's clear?

- It's clear! It's clear!

— Tatyana Dmitrievna! Let's celebrate! shouted the soldier.

- Let's! Let's! - got it all.

And then there was a shout and a ruckus in the classroom: some waved their arms, some sang, and some shouted - in general, everyone triumphed as best they could. And Tatyana Dmitrievna looked at this celebration and laughed.

"All right, stop celebrating," she finally said. - Now let's analyze other words: “His horse, smelling snow ...” So, the horse felt snow, smelled it, breathed in the smell of snow. Do you understand?

We understand, we understand! the guys shouted.

“And you, Vanechka, did you understand or not?”

“Understood,” Vanechka said quietly.

— What did you understand?

— A horse.

- And what else did you understand?

I understand the horse.

— And how did you understand it?

“Yes,” said Vanechka. The horse came out of the barn and saw the snow and did like this. And then Vanechka wrinkled his nose and began sniffing the desk.

At this, of course, everyone laughed, as Vanya understood the horse, and it was especially funny how he sniffed the desk.

And Vanechka wrinkled his nose and only wanted to cry, but Tatyana Dmitrievna said:

Guys, hurry, hurry, look out the window.

And everyone rushed to the window, and Vanechka thought: “I’ll cry later,” and also ran to the window.

And there, outside the window, grandfather Ignat rode in a sleigh to school. He waved his whip, and on the sleigh, on the wood, there was firewood, and the horse trotted somehow, and the path along which grandfather Ignat drove up to the school was really renewed - the first sleigh tracks lay on the first snow.

And everything was exactly as the teacher read the poems, only a special triumph was not visible on the face of grandfather Ignat.

The horse stopped, grandfather Ignat got down from the sleigh and, untying the rope that wrapped around the firewood, muttered something. Through the glass it was not audible that he muttered, but all the guys knew:

- Well, here we are.

The Tale of the Coming of Spring

The winter sun is short.

As soon as he enters the sky, you look - he is not there, it is already evening, it is already night and frost. And the village of Polynovka sleeps, only a pine lamp burns in the windows of the school, and the eternal stars tremble over the snowy steppe.

The winter dragged on for a long time, but then heavy night winds blew out. They were not as piercing and dry as in winter. They piled on the steppe, pressed the village to the ground, and they - these strange winds - were warmer than snow.

One night, Lyolya woke up because the wind howled especially hard and hummed outside the window.

Lelya lay without opening her eyes, but she saw everything that was happening in the street behind the wall of the house.

The snow was moving. Like a huge hat, he shuddered and tried to crawl. He was not cold and dead, he was warm, melting and alive. He felt bad tonight, stuffy and painful. He rushed about and could not do anything, hide anywhere, because he was huge. And Lele felt sorry for the snow.

And she heard a soft moan, as if the snow was moaning under the window, but she immediately realized that it was her mother moaning, and she was frightened. Snow must moan, must rush about, but mother never.

Lyolya jumped up, ran to her mother's bed, climbed under the covers.

“Lyolenka,” mum whispered, waking up. - Well, what are you? What you?

Mom was hot, humid, she kissed Lelya, and so, embracing, they fell asleep, and the snow groaned outside the window all night.

And in the morning a great spring fell upon the village of Polynovka.

Everything at once and everything around was revealed - both heaven and earth.

The snow, exhausted by the night winds, melted, and the river began to seethe in the ravine, picked up the broken droshky, and carried it; larks struck in the sky, and a fast-moving ice-cream turned into a sieve.

And Lyolya in this sieve dragged snow from behind the house. She wanted to save the snow clock that she had given to Vanechka. She scattered snow around the edges of the dial, around a stick driven into the ground.

But the sun flooded the clearing, on which there was a snow clock. The snow melted, melted, and Lyolya realized that it was necessary to build a new clock, spring.

A great spring fell upon the village of Polynovka, and winter, which was also great, faded and was forgotten.

And what's the use of remembering winter, when snowdrops covered the ground, and geese and larks painted the sky? Who will remember the great winter when walking barefoot through dandelions?

Perhaps only Lyolya remembered how the snow tormented one night. She rejoiced at the geese and dandelions, and even more rejoiced when she found the remains of snow in the ravines.

"Shut up, honey," she thought.

And she wanted everything in the world to always be protected.