A beautiful flower almost broken by a toad. About the toad and the rose

The Tale of the Toad and the Rose read:

A rose and a toad lived in the world. The rose bush, on which the rose blossomed, grew in a small semicircular flower garden in front of the village house. The flower garden was very neglected; weeds grew densely in the old flowerbeds grown into the ground and along the paths, which no one had cleaned or sprinkled with sand for a long time. A wooden lattice with pegs trimmed in the form of tetrahedral peaks, once painted with green oil paint, is now completely peeled off, dried up and fell apart; the pikes were stolen by the village boys to play soldiers, and to fend off the angry watchdog with a company of other dogs, the peasants approached the house.

And the flower garden from this destruction became no worse. Hops, dodder with large white flowers, and mouse peas, hanging in whole pale green heaps, with pale purple tassels of flowers scattered here and there, plaited the remains of the trellis. The prickly thistles on the oily and moist soil of the flower garden (there was a large shady garden around it) reached such large sizes that they almost seemed like trees. The yellow mulleins raised their flower-studded arrows even higher. Nettles occupied a whole corner of the flower garden; it burned, of course, but it was possible to admire its dark greenness from afar, especially when this greenery served as a backdrop for the delicate and luxurious pale rose flower.

It blossomed on a fine May morning; when she opened her petals, the departed morning dew left a few clean, transparent tears on them. Rose was crying. But everything around her was so good, so pure and clear on that beautiful morning, when she saw the blue sky for the first time and felt the fresh morning breeze and the rays of the shining sun, penetrating her thin petals with a pink light; in the flower garden it was so peaceful and calm that if she could really cry, it would not be from grief, but from happiness. She couldn't speak; she could only, bowing her head, spread around her a delicate and fresh scent, and that scent was her words, her tears, and her prayer.

And below, between the roots of the bush, on the damp earth, as if clinging to it with a flat belly, sat a rather fat old toad, which hunted worms and midges all night and sat down to rest from labors in the morning, choosing a place shady and damp. She sat with her toad-like eyes covered with membranes, and barely perceptibly breathed, puffing out her dirty-gray warty and sticky sides and putting one ugly paw to the side: she was too lazy to move it to her belly. She did not rejoice in the morning, or the sun, or good weather; She had already eaten and was going to rest.

But when the breeze ceased for a moment and the smell of the rose did not drift away, the toad felt it, and this caused her a vague anxiety; however, for a long time she was too lazy to see where the smell was coming from.

No one went to the flower garden where the rose grew and where the toad sat for a long time. Last year in autumn, on the very day when the toad, having found a good gap under one of the foundation stones of the house, was about to climb there for hibernation, a little boy entered the flower garden for the last time, who spent the whole summer sitting in it every clear day under the window of the house. A grown girl, his sister, was sitting by the window; she was reading a book or sewing something, and from time to time looked at her brother. He was a little boy of about seven, with big eyes and a big head on a thin body. He loved his flower garden very much (it was his flower garden, because, apart from him, almost no one went to this abandoned place) and, having come to it, sat down in the sun, on an old wooden bench that stood on a dry sandy path that had survived near the very at home, because they went to close the shutters along it, and began to read the book he had brought with him.

- Vasya, do you want me to throw a ball to you? the sister asks from the window. Maybe you can run with him?

- No, Masha, I'd rather like this, with a book.

And he sat for a long time and read. And when he got tired of reading about the Robinsons, and wild countries, and sea robbers, he left the open book and climbed into the thicket of the flower garden. Here he was familiar with every bush and almost every stem. He squatted down in front of a thick mullein stalk, surrounded by shaggy whitish leaves, which was three times taller than he was, and for a long time watched how the ant people ran up to their cows - grass aphids, how the ant delicately touches the thin tubes sticking out of the aphids on the back, and picks up clean droplets of sweet liquid that appear on the tips of the tubes. He watched the dung beetle busily and diligently dragging its ball somewhere, like a spider, spreading a cunning rainbow net, guarding flies, like a lizard, opening its blunt muzzle, sitting in the sun, shining with green shields of its back; and once, in the evening, he saw a live hedgehog! Here, too, he could not restrain himself from joy and almost screamed and clapped his hands, but fearing to frighten off the prickly animal, he held his breath and, widening his happy eyes, watched in delight as he, snorting, sniffed the roots of the rose bush with his pig snout, looking for worms between them, and comically fingered his plump paws, similar to bears.

“Vasya, dear, go home, it’s getting damp,” my sister said loudly.

And the hedgehog, frightened by the human voice, quickly pulled his prickly fur coat over his forehead and on his hind legs and turned into a ball. The boy softly touched his thorns; the animal shrank even more, and puffed muffledly and hastily, like a small steam engine.

Then he got to know this hedgehog a little. He was such a weak, quiet, and meek boy that even various small animal species seemed to understand this and soon got used to him. What a joy it was when the hedgehog tasted milk from a saucer brought by the owner of the flower garden!

This spring the boy could not go out to his favorite corner. As before, his sister was sitting beside him, but no longer by the window, but by his bed; she read the book, but not for herself, but aloud to him, because it was difficult for him to raise his emaciated head from the white pillows and it was difficult for him to hold even the smallest volume in his thin hands, and his eyes soon got tired from reading. He must never go out to his favorite corner again.

- Masha! he suddenly whispers to his sister.

- What, honey?

- What, is it good in the kindergarten now? Have the roses bloomed?

His sister leans down and kisses him on his pale cheek, wiping away a tear in the process.

“Very well, my dear, very well. And the roses bloomed. On Monday we will go there together. The doctor will let you out.

The boy doesn't answer and takes a deep breath. The sister starts reading again.

- It will already be. I'm tired. I'll sleep better.

His sister straightened his pillows and white blanket, he turned with difficulty to the wall and fell silent. The sun shone through the window overlooking the flower garden, and cast bright rays on the bed and on the little body lying on it, illuminating the pillows and blanket and gilding the short-cropped hair and thin neck of the child.

Rose knew none of this; she grew and flaunted; on the next day it should have blossomed in full bloom, and on the third day it should begin to wither and crumble. That's the whole pink life! But even in this short life she had a chance to experience a lot of fear and grief. The toad noticed her.

When she first saw the flower with her evil and ugly eyes, something strange stirred in the toad's heart. She could not tear herself away from the delicate rose petals and kept looking and looking. She really liked the rose, she felt a desire to be closer to such a fragrant and beautiful creature. And to express her tender feelings, she did not think of anything better than these words:

"Wait," she croaked, "I'll eat you up!"

Rose shuddered. Why was she attached to her stem? Free birds, chirping around her, jumped and flew from branch to branch; sometimes they were carried away somewhere far away, where the rose did not know. Butterflies were also free. How she envied them! Had she been like them, she would have fluttered and flown away from the evil eyes that pursued her with their gaze. Rosa did not know that toads sometimes lie in wait for butterflies.

- I'll devour you! - repeated the toad, trying to speak as gently as possible, which came out even more terrible, and crawled closer to the rose.

- I'll devour you! she repeated, still looking at the flower.

And the poor creature saw with horror how nasty sticky paws cling to the branches of the bush on which it grew. However, it was difficult for the toad to climb: its flat body could crawl freely and jump only on level ground. With every effort she looked up, where the flower swayed, and the rose froze.

- God! she prayed, “if only I could die a different death!”

And the toad kept climbing higher. But where the old trunks ended and the young branches began, she had to suffer a little. The dark green smooth bark of the rose bush was all planted with sharp and strong thorns. The toad broke its paws and belly about them and, bloody, fell to the ground. She looked at the flower with hatred...

“I said I would eat you!” she repeated.

Evening came; it was necessary to think about supper, and the wounded toad trudged along to lie in wait for careless insects. Anger didn't stop her from stuffing her stomach like she always did; her scratches were not very dangerous, and she decided, after resting, to again reach the flower that attracted her and hated her.

She rested for quite some time. Morning came, noon passed, the rose almost forgot about her enemy. She had already fully blossomed and was the most beautiful creature in the flower garden. There was no one to come to admire her: the little master lay motionless on his bed, his sister did not leave him and did not appear at the window. Only birds and butterflies scurried around the rose, and the bees, buzzing, sometimes sat down in its open corolla and flew out from there, completely shaggy from the yellow flower dust. The nightingale flew in, climbed into the rose bush and sang his song. How different it was from the wheezing of a toad! Rosa listened to this song and was happy: it seemed to her that the nightingale was singing for her, but maybe it was true. She did not see how her enemy climbed the branches unnoticed. This time, the toad spared neither its paws nor its belly: the blood covered it, but it bravely climbed all the way up - and suddenly, amid the sonorous and gentle roar of the nightingale, the rose heard a familiar wheezing: - I said that I would gobble up, and I will gobble up!

Toad eyes stared at her from a nearby branch. The evil animal had only one move to grab the flower. Rosa realized that she was dying ...

The little master had been lying motionless on the bed for a long time. The sister, who was sitting in an armchair by the head of the bed, thought he was asleep. She had an open book in her lap, but she did not read it. Little by little her tired head bowed: the poor girl did not sleep for several nights, not leaving her sick brother, and now she dozed off a little.

“Masha,” he suddenly whispered.

The sister was startled. She dreamed that she was sitting at the window, that her little brother was playing, as last year, in the flower garden and was calling her. Opening her eyes and seeing him in bed, thin and weak, she sighed heavily.

- What's cute?

- Masha, you told me that roses have blossomed! Can I... have one?

- You can, my dear, you can! She went to the window and looked at the bush. There grew one, but very magnificent rose.

- Just for you, a rose has blossomed, and what a glorious one! Would you like to put it here on the table in a glass? Yes?

Yes, on the table. I would like to.

The girl took the scissors and went out into the garden. She had not left the room for a long time; the sun blinded her, and the fresh air made her dizzy a little. She came to the bush at the very moment when the toad wanted to grab the flower.

- Oh, what a mess! she cried.

And seizing a branch, she shook it violently: the toad fell to the ground and flopped on its belly. In a rage, she jumped at the girl, but could not jump above the edge of the dress and immediately flew far away, thrown back by the toe of her shoe. She did not dare to try again and only from a distance saw how the girl carefully cut the flower and carried it into the room.

When the boy saw his sister with a flower in her hand, for the first time after a long time he smiled weakly and with difficulty made a movement with his thin hand.

“Give it to me,” he whispered. - I'm sniffing.

The sister put the stem into his hand and helped him to move it to his face. He breathed in a gentle scent and, smiling happily, whispered:

- Oh, how good...

Then his face became serious and motionless, and he fell silent ... forever. The rose, although it was cut before it began to crumble, felt that it had been cut for a reason. She was placed in a separate glass near a small coffin.

There were whole bouquets of other flowers, but, to tell the truth, no one paid attention to them, and the young girl, when she put it on the table, raised it to her lips and kissed it. A small tear fell from her cheek onto the flower, and this was the best incident in the life of a rose. When it began to wither, they put it in a thick old book and dried it, and then, after many years, they gave it to me. That's why I know the whole story.

A rose and a toad lived in the world. The rose bush, on which the rose blossomed, grew in a small semicircular flower garden in front of the village house. The flower garden was very neglected; weeds grew densely in the old flowerbeds grown into the ground and along the paths, which no one had cleaned or sprinkled with sand for a long time. A wooden lattice with pegs trimmed in the form of tetrahedral peaks, once painted with green oil paint, is now completely peeled off, dried up and fell apart; the pikes were stolen by village boys to play soldiers, and to fight off an angry watchdog with a company of other dogs, peasants approached the house.

And the flower garden from this destruction became no worse. Hops, dodder with large white flowers, and mouse peas, hanging in whole pale green heaps, with pale purple tassels of flowers scattered here and there, plaited the remains of the trellis. The prickly thistles on the oily and moist soil of the flower garden (there was a large shady garden around it) reached such large sizes that they almost seemed like trees. The yellow mulleins raised their flower-studded arrows even higher than them. Nettles occupied a whole corner of the flower garden; it burned, of course, but it was possible to admire its dark greenness from afar, especially when this greenery served as a backdrop for the delicate and luxurious pale rose flower.

- Vasya, do you want me to throw a ball to you? the sister asks from the window. Maybe you can run with him?

- No, Masha, I'd rather like this, with a book.

And he sat for a long time and read. And when he got tired of reading about the Robinsons, and wild countries, and sea robbers, he left the open book and climbed into the thicket of the flower garden. Here he was familiar with every bush and almost every stem. He squatted down in front of a thick mullein stem, surrounded by shaggy whitish leaves, which was three times taller than he, and for a long time watched how the ant people ran up to their cows - grass aphids, how the ant delicately touches the thin tubes sticking out of the aphids on the back, and picks up clean droplets of sweet liquid that appear on the tips of the tubes. He watched the dung beetle busily and diligently dragging its ball somewhere, like a spider, spreading a cunning rainbow net, guarding flies, like a lizard, opening its blunt muzzle, sitting in the sun, shining with green shields of its back; and once, in the evening, he saw a live hedgehog! Here, too, he could not restrain himself from joy and almost screamed and clapped his hands, but fearing to frighten off the prickly animal, he held his breath and, widening his happy eyes, watched in delight as he, snorting, sniffed the roots of the rose bush with his pig snout, looking for worms between them, and comically fingered his plump paws, similar to bears.

“Vasya, dear, go home, it’s getting damp,” my sister said loudly.

- Masha! he suddenly whispers to his sister.

- What, honey?

- What, is it good in the kindergarten now? Have the roses bloomed?

His sister leans down and kisses him on his pale cheek, wiping away a tear in the process.

“Very well, my dear, very well. And the roses bloomed. On Monday we will go there together. The doctor will let you out.

The boy doesn't answer and takes a deep breath. The sister starts reading again.

- It will already be. I'm tired. I'll sleep better.

"Wait," she croaked, "I'll eat you up!"

- I'll devour you! - repeated the toad, trying to speak as gently as possible, which came out even more terrible, and crawled closer to the rose.

- I'll devour you! she repeated, still looking at the flower.

- God! she prayed, “if only I could die a different death!”

And the toad kept climbing higher. But where the old trunks ended and the young branches began, she had to suffer a little. The dark green smooth bark of the rose bush was all planted with sharp and strong thorns. The toad broke its paws and belly about them and, bloodied, fell to the ground. She looked at the flower with hatred...

“I said I would eat you!” she repeated.

Toad eyes stared at her from a nearby branch. The evil animal had only one move to grab the flower. Rosa realized that she was dying ...

“Masha,” he suddenly whispered.

- What's cute?

- Masha, you told me that roses have blossomed! Can I... have one?

- You can, my dear, you can! She went to the window and looked at the bush. There grew one, but very magnificent rose.

- Just for you, a rose has blossomed, and what a glorious one! Would you like to put it here on the table in a glass? Yes?

Yes, on the table. I would like to.

- Oh, what a mess! she cried.

When the boy saw his sister with a flower in her hand, for the first time after a long time he smiled weakly and with difficulty made a movement with his thin hand.

“Give it to me,” he whispered. - I'm sniffing.

The sister put the stem into his hand and helped him to move it to his face. He breathed in a gentle scent and, smiling happily, whispered:

- Oh, how good ...

The plot of the work of V. M. Garshin "Tales of the Toad and the Rose" is quite simple. But before understanding the depth of the author's thought, it is worth telling what "The Tale of the Toad and the Rose" is about.

Let's take a look at the summary. The toad and the rose lived in the same abandoned flower garden. A little boy used to play in the garden, but now that the rose had blossomed, he lay in bed and died. The nasty toad hunted at night and lay among the flowers during the day. The smell of a beautiful rose irritated her, and she decided to eat it. Rosa was very afraid of her, because she did not want to die such a death. And just as she was about to reach the flower, the boy's sister came up to cut the rose to give to the sick child. The girl threw away the insidious toad. The boy, having inhaled the fragrance of the flower, died. The rose stood at his coffin, and then it was dried in a book.

Fairy tale analysis

Now let's try to make a brief analysis of the tale. The toad and the rose represent two opposites: terrible and beautiful. The lazy and disgusting toad with its hatred of everything high and beautiful, and the rose as the embodiment of good and joy, are an example of the eternal struggle of two opposites - good and evil.

We see this from the way the author chooses epithets to describe each heroine. Everything beautiful, sublime, spiritualized is connected with the rose. The toad personifies the manifestation of base human qualities: laziness, stupidity, greed, rage.

According to the author of the tale, evil can never defeat good, and beauty, both external and internal, will save our world filled with various human shortcomings. Despite the fact that at the end of the work, both the rose and the boy who loves flowers die, but their departure evokes sad and slightly bright feelings among readers, since they both loved beauty.

In addition, the death of a flower brought the last joy to a dying child, it brightened up the last minutes of his life. And the rose itself was glad that she had died doing good, most of all she was afraid of accepting death from a vile toad that hated her with all its guts. And only for this we can be grateful to the beautiful and noble flower.

Thus, this short tale teaches readers to strive for beauty and goodness, to ignore and avoid evil in all its manifestations, to be beautiful not only on the outside, but, above all, in the soul.

Topic: V.M. Garshin "The Tale of the Toad and the Rose". "The Tale of the Toad and the Rose" The world of nature and the world of the human soul in a fairy tale. The image of the clash of beauty and ugliness, good and evil, ideas about happiness and the meaning of life. Magic elements in a fairy tale.

Theory of Literature. Literary fairy tale (development of ideas). Heroic and mundane. The pathos of the work (initial representations).

Target : tell about the writer, introduce the work"The Tale of the Toad and the Rose";

Identification of the main idea of the tale; the formation of the skill of working with illustrations and lexical work, expressive reading, reading by roles and artistic retelling; fostering interest in the works of the writer, the formation of ideas about true values.

During the classes

I. Organizational moment

II Actualization of basic knowledge

1. Checking homework .

III. Goal setting and motivation

Who sows good - good is his fruit,

He who sows evil will reap evil.

Saadi

1. Work with an epigraph.

Do you agree with the statementPersian poet Saadi ? Comment.

I V . Explanation of new material

1. Teacher's word.

Vsevolod Mikhailovich Garshin (February 2 (14), 1855, Pleasant Valley estate, Bakhmut district, Yekaterinoslav province, Russian Empire - March 24 (April 5), 1888, St. Petersburg, Russian Empire) - Russian writer, poet, art critic.

He spent his childhood in a military environment (father Mikhail Egorovich Garshin (1817-1870) was an officer). His childhood was not so happy. For some reason, the mother left the family when the boy was 5 years old. She was gone for several years. The boy was very worried about parting with his mother, so he tried to study well and read a lot. He was an attentive reader, a very observant boy. As he grew older, he became deeply compassionate towards people. This is reflected in his works. He believed that the writer should not only share suffering and responsibility for pain with people, but also take on their main share!

From 1864 he studied at the 7th gymnasium in St. Petersburg, which in 1872 was transformed into a real school. In 1874, Garshin graduated from college and entered the Mining Institute, but did not finish it. The war with the Ottoman Empire interrupted his studies: he entered the army as a volunteer, was in business, was wounded in the leg. After the war, he was promoted to the rank of officer and retired.

Already a child, Garshin was extremely nervous and impressionable, which was facilitated by too early mental development. Subsequently, he suffered from bouts of nervous breakdown and at the age of 33 he committed suicide by throwing himself into a flight of stairs (because the fall was from a small height, death occurred only after several days of agony). The writer is buried at Literary Bridges, the museum-necropolis of St. Petersburg.

Garshin made his debut in 1877 with the story "Four Days", which immediately made him famous. This work clearly expresses the protest against the war, against the extermination of man by man. A number of stories are dedicated to the same motif: “The orderly and the officer”, “Ayaslyar case”, “From the memoirs of private Ivanov” and “Coward”.

2. Expressive reading of a fairy tale.

3. Analysis

1. History of creation.

V.A. Fausek, there was an episode at the concert of A.G. Rubinshtein, who played in the house of the poet Ya.P. Polonsky. Garshin noticed how the pianist was devoured by the eyes of an "unpleasant-looking bureaucratic old man" who looked like a toad. This gave the writer a reason to tell children about the beauty of the human soul.

2. The theme of this work is also determined by juxtapositions, such as descriptions of a beautiful rose that has blossomed on a May morning and a description of an old toad sitting between the roots of a rose bush, i.e. - about the beautiful and the ugly (ugly).

3. Issues: the beauty of the human soul.

4. The ideological orientation of the work lies in the fact that the author wanted to convey to children the love of beauty. His fairy tale contains an allegorical depiction of the struggle between good and evil, the beauty of nature and the human heart, truly lofty spirits and "marsh" inhabitants playing a feat.

5. Genre-fairy tale.

6. The main artistic images in their system and internal connections. The main role in the work is assigned to the cut - the personification of the beautiful, and the toad - the hero is ugly, disgusting.

7. Characteristics of the central characters.

Rose - gentle, luxurious. “... She blossomed on a good May morning; ...she opened her petals, and the morning dew that flew away left a few clean, transparent tears on them. Rose was crying. The rays of the sun seemed to pierce her thin petals with pink light ... She could not speak; she could only, bowing her head, spread a delicate and fresh scent around her, and this fragrance was her words, tears and prayer ... "

Toad. “... And below, between the roots of a bush, on the damp earth, as if clinging to it with a flat belly, sat a rather fat old toad, which hunted worms and midges all night and sat down in the morning to rest from work, choosing a place shady and damp . She sat with her toad-like eyes covered with membranes, and barely perceptibly breathed, puffing out her dirty-gray warty and sticky sides and putting one ugly paw to the side: she was too lazy to move it to her belly. She did not rejoice either in the morning or the sun ... "

Vasya is a boy of seven years old, with big eyes and a big head on a thin body. He loved the flower garden and loved to read adventure novels in this flower garden.

Masha - his sister - a caring girl, sits at the head of her sick brother, loves to read books ... "saves" a rose from a toad ..

8. Plot. The development of actions takes place in an abandoned flower garden - a rose, a toad; and in the room - a dying boy, a sister who later cut a flower.

Main conflict. The ugly toad wants to eat the rose; evil wants to destroy the beautiful. The author unfolds events in such a way that the beautiful in the name of good, always conquering evil, saves the beautiful (rose).

9. Landscape (a description of a flower garden, a view from the window), a portrait (a description of a boy), a dialogue between a rose and a toad (“-I will gobble you up ..”), the interior in the boy’s house - everything helps us to feel at that time of action and to feel the meaning more deeply what is happening: the feelings of a rose, the attitude of a sister to her brother, the desire of a toad to devour a rose, the emotions of a sister and a boy, the kindness of loved ones, etc.

10. The author's descriptions and narratives allow a deeper understanding of the meaning of the work, and the fact that the writer decided to put such contrasting pictures side by side (description of a rose (beautiful) and a toad (ugly)) is very appropriate, I think, so that the reader can feel the beauty of human souls...

11. Composition of the plot and individual images.

12. "The Tale of the Toad and the Rose" in the work of V.M. Garshin occupies not the last place, since he addressed this work to children ...

13. The work of V.M. Garshin was highly appreciated by L.N. Tolstoy, I.S. Turgenev, M.E. Saltykov-Shchedrin, A.P. Chekhov and other writers. Turgenev wrote to Garshin: "Every aging writer who sincerely loves his work rejoices when he discovers heirs in himself: you are one of them."

4. Conversation

– What feelings did the story evoke in you? (Feeling of sadness).
- Name the main characters of the story. (Rose, toad, sister, boy).
What can you say about the rose? (Find in the text).

– Where did the rose grow?
How does the rose feel?
What could a rose be praying for?
What flower garden was it?
Let's read about these plants.
- Just now we were talking about the complete desolation of the flower garden. (The flower garden has become no worse from destruction. It has acquired its own individuality).
How does he appear to you now?
– What gave beauty and individuality to this desolation?
- What new did you learn about the rose from the fairy tale? (The rose blooms no more than 3 days - grows and flaunts on day 1 - blooms on day 2 - fades on day 3)
- What kind of toad do you imagine?

– How did you see the boy?

– Why did he love such an abandoned flower garden?

– What words did the toad choose to express her feelings?
- Are these words an expression of feelings?
Why did the rose tremble?
- What did the rose regret at that moment? (That it is attached to the stem and cannot, like free birds and free butterflies, fly away from danger).

– Pay attention to how the toad expresses its attitude towards the rose. (She repeats the same words. Her speech is poor.)
– How does the author show the rose? (Pale creature).
– Is it possible to compare a rose with someone else? (With a boy, his author shows pale from illness).
- Why is the rose then a "pale creature"? (Out of fear).
What death would the rose prefer? (To bring someone joy, even cut - just die after flowering, showering the petals).

– Does she have the desire to continue climbing towards the flower one more time? (Yes, but the desire to fill the belly overcame the desire to get to the rose).
What happened to the rose last night? (She forgot about the enemy. She blossomed and became the most beautiful flower in the flower garden).
Has the rose brought joy to anyone? Does she regret anything? (She brought joy to the birds around her, butterflies, bees, nightingale. She cannot bring joy to a boy).

– What happened to the boy?

– What can you say about a rose? Did she bring joy or tragedy to this house? (Rose felt that she was not cut in vain. Rose helped the boy, she made him happy. - She brought peace and quiet to this house).
What does the rose represent? (Light, kindness, beauty).
- Why does the author tell us that this was the best incident in the life of the rose? (Among all the flowers, it was she who was singled out. The girl kissed the rose, a tear fell from the girl’s cheek onto the rose).
– Can we say that the prayer of the rose went unheeded? (No, the Lord fulfilled the request of the rose to benefit people).
- Have you forgotten the rose after this incident? (No, they dried it, handed it over to other family members who, looking at this flower, remembered the boy who had left them).

5. Theory of literature.

v. Fixing new material

1. The game "I am a teacher" (the children themselves make up questions that are answered by their classmates).

2. Word drawing.

What illustration would you draw for a fairy tale? (Independent creation of microtext on a given topic).

Summing up the lesson

1. Generalization.

Good deeds, deeds are never forgotten, but remain in the memory of other people for many years. Better to do good to people. Be kinder, do not spoil beauty, always fight everything ugly and evil

VI. Homework

Prepare a retelling of the story.

Individual task. Draw illustrations for the story.

Additional task VU : Write an essay - a miniature on the topic "What lesson did I learn from the fairy tale" The Tale of the Toad and the Rose ".

Duty teacher! (do your own work)

Bibliography

1. https://ru.wikipedia.org/wiki Wikipedia. Garshin, Vsevolod Mikhailovich

2. A lesson in literary reading. V.M. Garshin "The Tale of the Toad and the Rose". 4th grade. Nikishova Marina Vyacheslavovna, primary school teacher

3. Theme "Analysis of the work of V.M. Garshin "The Tale of the Toad and the Rose"

A rose and a toad lived in the world.

The rose bush, on which the rose blossomed, grew in a small semicircular flower garden in front of the village house. The flower garden was very neglected; weeds grew densely in the old flowerbeds grown into the ground and along the paths, which no one had cleaned or sprinkled with sand for a long time. A wooden lattice with pegs trimmed in the form of tetrahedral peaks, once painted with green oil paint, is now completely peeled off, dried up and fell apart; the pikes were stolen by village boys to play soldiers, and to fight off an angry watchdog with a company of other dogs, peasants approached the house.

Nobody went to the flower garden where the rose grew and where the toad sat for a long time. Last year in autumn, on the very day when the toad, having found a good gap under one of the foundation stones of the house, was about to climb there for hibernation, a little boy entered the flower garden for the last time, who spent the whole summer sitting in it every clear day under the window of the house.

A grown girl, his sister, was sitting by the window; she was reading a book or sewing something, and from time to time looked at her brother. He was a little boy of about seven, with big eyes and a big head on a thin body. He loved his flower garden very much (it was his flower garden, because, apart from him, almost no one went to this abandoned place) and, having come to it, sat down in the sun, on an old wooden bench that stood on a dry sandy path that had survived near the house , because they went to close the shutters along it, and began to read the book he had brought with him.

- Vasya, do you want me to throw a ball to you? the sister asks from the window. Maybe you can run with him?

- No, Masha, I'd rather like this, with a book.

And he sat for a long time and read. And when he got tired of reading about Robinsons, and wild countries, and sea robbers, he left the open book and climbed into the thicket of the flower garden. Here he was familiar with every bush and almost every stem. He squatted down in front of a thick mullein stalk, surrounded by shaggy whitish leaves, which was three times taller than he was, and for a long time watched how the ant people ran up to their cows - grass aphids, how the ant delicately touches the thin tubes sticking out of the aphids on the back, and picks up clean droplets of sweet liquid that appear on the tips of the tubes. He watched the dung beetle busily and diligently dragging its ball somewhere, like a spider, spreading a cunning rainbow net, guarding flies, like a lizard, opening its blunt muzzle, sitting in the sun, shining with green shields of its back; and once, in the evening, he saw a live hedgehog! Here, too, he could not restrain himself from joy and almost screamed and clapped his hands, but, afraid to frighten off the prickly animal, he held his breath and, opening his happy eyes wide, watched in delight as he, snorting, sniffed the roots of a rose bush with his pig's snout. , looking for worms between them, and comically fingered his plump paws, similar to bears.

“Vasya, dear, go home, it’s getting damp,” my sister said loudly.

And the hedgehog, frightened by the human voice, quickly pulled his prickly fur coat over his forehead and on his hind legs and turned into a ball. The boy softly touched his thorns; the animal shrank even more and puffed in a muffled, hasty way, like a small steam engine.

- Masha! he suddenly whispers to his sister.

- What, honey?

- What, is it good in the kindergarten now? Have the roses bloomed?

His sister leans down and kisses him on his pale cheek, wiping away a tear in the process.

“Very well, my dear, very well. And the roses bloomed. On Monday we will go there together. The doctor will let you out.

The boy doesn't answer and takes a deep breath. The sister starts reading again.

- It will already be. I'm tired. I'll sleep better.

Rose did not know any of this: she grew and flaunted; on the next day it should have blossomed in full bloom, and on the third day it should begin to wither and crumble. That's the whole pink life! But even in this short life she had a chance to experience a lot of fear and grief.

The toad noticed her.

When she first saw the flower with her evil and ugly eyes, something strange stirred in the toad's heart. She could not tear herself away from the delicate rose petals and kept looking and looking. She really liked the rose, and she felt a desire to be closer to such a fragrant and beautiful creature. And to express her tender feelings, she did not think of anything better than these words:

"Wait," she croaked, "I'll eat you up."

- I'll devour you! - repeated the toad, trying to speak as gently as possible, which came out even more terrible, and crawled closer to the rose.

- I'll devour you! she repeated, still looking at the flower. And the pale creature saw with horror how the nasty sticky paws cling to the branches of the bush on which it grew. However, it was difficult for the toad to climb: its flat body could crawl freely and jump only on level ground. With every effort she looked up, where the flower swayed, and the rose froze.

- God! she prayed. - If only I could die a different death!

And the toad kept climbing higher. But where the old trunks ended and the young branches began, she had to suffer a little. The dark green smooth bark of the rose bush was all planted with sharp and strong thorns. The toad broke its paws and belly about them and, bloodied, fell to the ground. She looked at the flower with hatred...

“I said I would eat you!” she repeated.

She rested for quite some time. Morning came, noon passed, the rose almost forgot about her enemy. She had already fully blossomed and was the most beautiful creature in the flower garden. There was no one to come to admire her: the little master lay motionless on his bed, his sister did not leave him and did not appear at the window. Only birds and butterflies scurried around the rose, and the bees, buzzing, sometimes sat down in its open corolla and flew out from there, completely shaggy from the yellow flower dust. The nightingale flew in, climbed into the rose bush and sang his song. How different it was from the wheezing of a toad! Rosa listened to this song and was happy: it seemed to her that the nightingale was singing for her, but maybe it was true. She did not see how her enemy climbed the branches unnoticed. This time, the toad no longer spared either paws or belly: the blood covered it, but it bravely climbed all the way up - and suddenly, amid the sonorous and gentle roar of the nightingale, the rose heard a familiar wheezing:

- I said I'll eat it, and I'll eat it!

Toad eyes stared at her from a nearby branch. The evil animal had only one move to grab the flower. Rosa realized that she was dying ...

“Masha,” he suddenly whispered.

- What, honey?

- Masha, you told me that roses have blossomed! Can I... have one?

- You can, my dear, you can! She went to the window and looked at the bush. There grew one, but very magnificent rose.

- Just for you, a rose has blossomed, and what a glorious one! Would you like to put it here on the table in a glass? Yes?

- Yes, on the table, I want.

- Oh, how ugly! she cried. And, seizing a branch, she shook it violently: the toad fell to the ground and flopped on its belly. In a rage, she jumped at the girl, but could not jump above the edge of the dress and immediately flew far away, thrown back by the toe of her shoe. She did not dare to try again and only from a distance saw how the girl carefully cut the flower and carried it into the room.

When the boy saw his sister with a flower in her hand, for the first time after a long time he smiled weakly and with difficulty made a movement with his thin hand.

“Give it to me,” he whispered. - I'm sniffing.

The sister put the stem into his hand and helped him to move it to his face. He breathed in a gentle scent and, smiling happily, whispered:

- Oh, how good ...

Then his face became serious and motionless, and he fell silent ... forever.

The rose, although it was cut before it began to crumble, felt that it had been cut for a reason. She was placed in a separate glass near a small coffin. There were whole bouquets of other flowers, but, to tell the truth, no one paid attention to them, and the young girl, when she put it on the table, raised it to her lips and kissed it.

A small tear fell from her cheek onto the flower, and this was the best incident in the life of a rose. When it began to wither, they put it in a thick old book and dried it, and then, after many years, they gave it to me. That's why I know this story.

Here is an excerpt from the book.
Only part of the text is open for free reading (restriction of the copyright holder). If you liked the book, the full text can be obtained from our partner's website.

Portal for the student. Self-training

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