The blind man lay quietly, arms folded across his chest and smiling. He smiled unconsciously. He was ordered not to move, in any case, to make movements only in cases of strict necessity. So he lay for the third day with a bandage over his eyes. But his state of mind, despite that faint, frozen smile, was that of a condemned man, waiting for mercy. From time to time the possibility of starting to live again, balancing himself in the bright space with the mysterious work of the pupils, appearing suddenly clear, excited him so much that he twitched all over, as in a dream.

Protecting Rabid's nerves, the professor did not tell him that the operation was a success, that he would certainly become sighted again. Any ten-thousandth chance back could turn everything into a tragedy. Therefore, saying goodbye, the professor said to Rabid every day:

Keep calm. Everything is done for you, the rest will follow.

In the midst of tormenting tension, waiting and all sorts of assumptions, Rabid heard the voice of Daisy Garan coming up to him. It was a girl who served in the clinic; Often, in difficult moments, Rabid asked her to put her hand on his forehead, and now he expected with pleasure that this small, friendly hand would lightly cling to his head, which was numb from immobility. And so it happened.

When she took her hand away, he, who had looked inside himself for so long and learned to accurately understand the movements of his heart, realized once again that his main fear of late had been the fear of never seeing Daisy. Even when he was brought here and he heard a swift female voice in charge of the patient's device, a gratifying sensation stirred in him of a gentle and slender being, drawn by the sound of this voice. It was the warm, merry and soulful sound of young life, rich in melodious nuances as clear as a warm morning.

Gradually, her image clearly arose in him, arbitrary, like all our ideas about the invisible, but necessary for him. Talking for three weeks only to her, submitting to her easy and persistent care, Rabid knew that he had begun to love her from the very first days; now to recover - became his goal for her sake.

He thought that she treated him with deep sympathy, favorable for the future. Blind, he did not consider himself entitled to ask these questions, postponing their decision until the time when both of them looked into each other's eyes. And he did not know at all that this girl, whose voice made him so happy, was thinking about his recovery with fear and sadness, because she was ugly. Her feeling for him arose out of loneliness, the consciousness of her influence over him, and out of a consciousness of security. He was blind, and she could calmly look at herself with his inner idea of ​​her, which he expressed not in words, but in his whole attitude - and she knew that he loved her.

Before the operation, they talked for a long time and a lot. Rabid told her his wanderings, she - about everything that is happening in the world now. And the line of her conversation was full of the same charming softness as her voice. As they parted, they thought of something else to say to each other. Her last words were:

Goodbye, for now.

Bye... - answered Rabid, and it seemed to him that in "bye" there was hope.

He was straight, young, bold, playful, tall and black-haired. He should have had - if he had - black, shining eyes with a stare. Imagining this look, Daisy moved away from the mirror with fear in her eyes. And her sickly, irregular face was covered with a gentle blush.

What will happen? she said. - Well, let this good month come to an end. But open his prison, Professor Rebald, please!

When the hour of testing came and the light was established, with which at first Rabid's weak gaze could fight, the professor and his assistant, and with them several other people of the learned world, surrounded Rabid.

Daisy! he said, thinking she was there and hoping to be the first to see her. But she was not there precisely because at that moment she did not find the strength to see, to feel the excitement of a person whose fate was decided by removing the bandage. She stood in the middle of the room as if spellbound, listening to voices and footsteps. By an involuntary effort of the imagination, overshadowing us in moments of heavy sighs, she saw herself somewhere in another world, another, which she would like to appear to a newborn look, she sighed and resigned herself to fate.

Meanwhile, the bandage was removed. Continuing to feel her disappearance, pressure, Rabid lay in sharp and blissful doubts. His pulse dropped.

The deed is done,” said the professor, his voice trembling with excitement. - Look, open your eyes!

Rabid raised his eyelids, still thinking that Daisy was there, and ashamed to call her again. A curtain hung in folds in front of his face.

Remove the matter, he said, it interferes. And, having said this, he realized that he had seen the light that the folds of matter, hung as if on the very face, were a window curtain at the far end of the room.

His chest began to convulsively heave, and he, not noticing the sobs that uncontrollably shook his entire emaciated, stale body, began to look around, as if reading a book. Object after object passed before him in the light of his rapture, and he saw the door, and instantly fell in love with it, because this was the door through which Daisy passed. Smiling blissfully, he took a glass from the table, his hand trembled, and, almost without mistake, he put it back in its original place.

Now he was impatiently waiting for all the people who had restored his sight to leave, in order to call Daisy and, with the right to receive the ability to fight for life, tell her all his main things. But a few more minutes passed of solemn, excited, learned conversation in an undertone, during which he had to answer how he felt and how he saw.

SEARCH FOR THE MEANING OF LIFE

If you are looking for a way to make your life meaningful -
start serving other people and helping them.
And then you will discover the true meaning of life.

Wally Amos

Creative task "Looking for the meaning of life"

Read the passage:

“What will they think of a man who is busily walking his own path, and when asked where and why he is going, he will answer: yes, I don’t know myself.

Similarly, people behave in relation to the most important path that a person can go: the path of life. They certainly see the value in individual steps and actions: acquiring knowledge, serving a useful profession, creating works of art, bearing social responsibility, building a house, taking care of their family or getting to know the world - all this separately, of course, makes sense. But what is the meaning of everything together, the meaning of the Whole?”… (Ursula Namdar).

Divide the children into groups and ask them to formulate the meaning of a person's life path. Discuss with the children when a person should start looking for the meaning of his life and what is needed for this.

• Should a person look for meaning in everything he does, and for what?
• When did you first think about the meaning of life?
• What would you like to change in your life and what are you doing to achieve it?
• Can the meaning of human life change over time, and what does it depend on?

Read the parable:

The professor of philosophy took a large tin can, filled it to the top with large stone fragments up to five centimeters in diameter, and asked the students if the can was full.

“Of course, full,” the students replied.

Then the professor took a box of small pebbles, poured them on top of the stones and shook the jar slightly. Pebbles fell into the free space between the stones.

The students laughed.

After that, the professor took a bag of sand and poured the sand into a jar. Undoubtedly, the sand also seeped into those cracks that still remained between the stones and pebbles.

This bank, like a human life, - said the professor, - first we must fill it with the largest stones, these are the most important goals in our life, without which we cannot exist: love, faith, family, an interesting profession, raising children. Pebbles are less important targets, but necessary for comfort. For example, your house, car, cottage. Sand is our daily worries. If we first fill the jar with sand, there will no longer be room for stones and pebbles. Then our life will consist only of everyday fuss, but we will not achieve the most important and necessary. It is necessary to learn to focus our efforts on important things without which life loses its meaning, for example, raising children. Sometimes we devote a lot of time to earning money, cleaning, washing, cooking, talking with neighbors, but at the same time we do not have enough time for our children, this; it means that we fill our jar with sand, forgetting about large stones.

Questions and tasks for the parable:

• Ask the children to list all the things that could be the meaning of a person's life. All of the above is written on the board.
• Then the children choose those points in which they see the meaning for themselves, and explain why.

Paperwork

Ask the children to think of all their activities and goals and write them down in three columns: “large rocks,” “pebbles,” and “sand.” Then the children should analyze and write down what activities they devote more time to and why.

Read the passage:

JONATHAN LIVINGSTON SEAGULL

(excerpt)

R. Bach

It was already dead of night when Jonathan flew up to the Pack on the shore. He was dizzy, he was dead tired. But, descending, he gladly made a dead loop. When they hear about it, he thought of the Breakthrough, they will go wild with joy. How much fuller life will be now! Instead of sadly scurrying between the shore and fishing boats - to know why you live! We will do away with ignorance, we will become beings who can achieve perfection and mastery. We will be free! We will learn to fly!

The future was filled to the limit, it promised so much tempting!

When he landed, all the seagulls were there; because the council was about to begin.

Jonathan, Jonathan! Come out to the middle!

Jonathan Livingston, - said the Elder, - come out to the middle, you have covered yourself with Shame, in the face of your fellow tribesmen.

It's like he's been hit with a board! My knees were weak, my feathers were drooping, my ears were buzzing. Circle of Shame? Can't be! Breakthrough! They didn't understand! They were wrong, they were wrong!

The Circle of Shame means exile from the Pack, he will be sentenced to live alone on the Far Rocks.

- ...the day will come, Jonathan Livingston, when you will understand that irresponsibility cannot feed you. It is not given to us to comprehend the meaning of life, because it is incomprehensible, we know only one thing, we are thrown into this world to eat and stay alive as long as we have enough strength.

Seagulls never object to the Pack Council, but Jonathan's voice broke the silence.

Irresponsibility? Brethren! he exclaimed. - Who is more responsible than a seagull, which discovers what is the meaning, what is the highest meaning of life, and never forgets about it? For a thousand years we have been scouring in search of fish heads, but now it is finally clear why we live: to learn, to discover new things, to be free! Give me a chance, let me show you what I've learned...

The flock seemed to be petrified.

You are no longer a Brother to us, - the seagulls sang in unison, majestically all at once closed their ears and turned their backs to him.

Jonathan spent the rest of his days alone, but he flew miles away from the Far Cliffs. And it was not loneliness that tormented him, but the fact that the seagulls did not want to believe in the joy of flying, did not want to open their eyes and see!

Every day he learned something new. He learned that by streamlining his body, he could go into a high-speed dive and get a rare tasty fish from those that swim in the ocean at a depth of ten feet; he no longer needed fishing boats and stale bread. He learned to sleep in the air, learned to stay on course at night when the wind was blowing offshore, and could fly hundreds of miles from sunset to sunrise.

With the same composure, he flew in dense sea fog and broke through it to a clear, dazzling, radiant sky ... at the very time when other seagulls huddled to the ground, unaware that there was anything in the world but fog and rain. He learned to fly with a strong wind far inland and catch delicious insects for lunch.

Questions and tasks for the fairy tale:

Scene "Learning to fly"

Imagine that Jonathan has students. The children are divided into groups and come up with a dance scene about how Jonathan taught seagulls to fly.

Creative task "In Defense of Jonathan"

Divide the children into groups and have them write a speech in defense of Jonathan or anyone else like him. After the representative from the group reads the speech, the others try to refute it. The speaker must defend his position. The educator then discusses with the children whether they need to stand up for their beliefs and goals.

Homework

Ask the children to describe two examples from life or literature when a person could or could not find meaning in life. Children should compare the lives of these people and write what effect the meaning of life or its absence has on the character and actions of a person.

Homework

Together with the teacher, the children discuss how it is necessary to build their lives so that there are no senseless years lived in it.

A book is compiled from the children's work: "Conversations on the Meaning of Life".

GREAT SOUL

A small man is small even on the mountain;
the giant is great and in the pit.

Mikhail Lomonosov

Creative task "Great Courage"

Children are divided into groups and receive cards with the names of different qualities, for example: courage, kindness, generosity. Children should talk about a person who has this or that quality to a great extent, for example: great courage, great kindness, etc.

Questions and tasks for the conversation:

• Do you think everyone is capable of great feelings or only some people?
• Tell us about deeds and deeds that can be called great.
• What quality do you think is the greatest, and why?

Read the story:

GREAT

(excerpt)

N. Wagner

And Tsarevich Gaidar went, went alone, without his retinue, went to look for the "great" all over the world ...

He approached a large high mountain, and large trees grew at its foot, and under one tree a man was lying, and another was sitting, bending over him.

Gaidar was tired and involuntarily, not noticing, sank to the ground and sat down beside the man.

What, is he sick? - Gaidar asked the man.

But the man did not answer him. He rubbed the chest of the man who was lying quietly and moaning plaintively.

Is this your brother?

The man turned to him, looked sternly and intently at him, and said softly intelligibly:

We are all brothers... We all have the same father... - And he again began to rub the sick man's chest.

The patient moaned more and more quietly. He fell asleep.

The one who was rubbing quietly removed his hand from his chest, slowly turned to Gaidar and, putting his finger to his lips, whispered softly, almost audibly:

He fell asleep! And peace be upon you, my brother! He sat silently for a few minutes, his head bowed. Gaidar looked at his thin, darkened face, with large thoughtful eyes, at his worn, torn clothes, at his poor, patched turban, and thought: "He must be poor and unhappy."

And he quietly took out a purse from his belt and just as quietly placed it in the hands of his interlocutor. But he removed his hand and said:

I am not in need!.. Give your gold to those who have not tasted the gifts of poverty and poverty… and who is thinking of buying corrupt earthly goods with it…

Are you from the same village as this patient? Gaidar asked.

No, he is from Judea and I am a Samaritan. My name is Rabel Bed-Ad, and his name is Samuel of Khazran.

Rabel leaned over to Gaidar and began to speak to him quietly, looking back at the sleeping Samuil every minute.

About fifteen years ago, when there was, as now, enmity between the Samaritans and the Jews, he came as a leader, with a whole legion of hired men; he burned our village, and took my father and mother into captivity.

What did you do to him for this?! cried Gaidar in horror and indignation?

Wait, - Rabel said quietly, - listen and then judge, if you have the right to judge. I was then seventeen years old ... I was young. My blood boiled in me... I wanted to take revenge. But I had a sister, Hagaria, whom I loved more than my father and mother, and more than anything in the world. She was kind and beautiful. She was twelve years old. When Samuel attacked our village, I fled with her to the mountains of Garazim and hid in the caves there. When I returned to our village three days later, I did not find her. Only ruins remained of it. Everything was destroyed and burned by the Jews. I took my sister and took her to the mountains again. We were rich before, and we have nothing left. We ate alms from good people. They went from village to village and collected alms. My father and mother were taken away and sold to the Moabites, and they died in captivity. So two or three years passed. One night, robbers attacked the cave in which we were hiding with two other Samaritan families. They slaughtered almost everyone, with the exception of me and Hagaria, who was taken captive and sold, as I later found out, to Samuel as a slave.

Then I swore an oath to Almighty God to avenge, to avenge my father and my mother, my poor sister. I began to secretly follow Samuel from afar. Many times I saw him leave his house, but he always came out surrounded by his retinue and with his friends, buddies, and the thought that they might interfere with me, that they would seize me and execute me, this thought stopped me. Little time has passed. One night, when all my blood was agitated with a thirst for vengeance, and I did not know where to find a place for my enmity, I went out of town. The night was sultry but clear. I, not remembering and not noticing how, went down into one of the ravines. At the bottom of it lay the corpse of a woman, and by the light of the moon I learned that it was the corpse of my dear sister, my Agaria. There was a large wound in her chest, right against her heart. A mortal wound ... I lost my senses, and when I came to my senses, I again repeated the terrible oath of revenge on my enemy. I read it over the corpse of my dear Hagar. I dipped my hand in her blood and raised it to the sky as a sign that by the blood of my dear sister I swear to fulfill my oath ...

Rabel fell silent and for one minute covered his face with his hands, as if overwhelmed by unbearably cruel memories. Then he abruptly took his hands away and spoke quickly again:

Samuel killed her. It was the last drop of bitterness poured into my tormented soul. I then lived with one thought to take revenge ... It seemed to me that it would not be enough to kill him, not enough for all that my poor heart had suffered. With the sunrise I woke up with this thought, it did not part with me all day. I came up with a thousand plans to repay him in the most cruel way. He had neither father nor mother. He was an orphan. He was terribly rich and did not love anyone ... I did not know then that the true treasure is hidden in love and that, not having it, he was poorer than me ... So several more years passed. Once I lost sight of him. He left, but where, I did not know even then ... (At the same time, Rabel grabbed Gaidar's hand and squeezed it tightly) and then I knew such torments that I had not experienced in my whole life. I wished for death, I sought death. Several times I tried to kill myself ... But I was stopped by a terrible oath I had taken. I thought that there was no forgiveness for perjurers... What, I thought, awaits me behind the coffin? The wrath of the Lord and new, stronger torment. And meanwhile, the shadows of my father, and my mother, and my sweet and dear Hagaria constantly seemed to me. I saw them pale, sad and nodding their heads at me. I saw their terrible bloody wounds, I saw them day and night, and I suffered, and suffered unbearably ...

There is no harder suffering for a person than to seek revenge and languish in impotence ... - He paused and continued the story again: - All this has passed, long gone ... everything has been forgotten ... and for this I will forever thank God if He gives me eternal life. And even more, even more strongly I will thank Him for the fact that He destroyed all my anger, all my thirst for revenge and turned it into a good great feeling. Many years later. And he, Samuel, returned again ... I bought a good knife. I myself honed it and did not part with it day or night. I hardly slept, and I didn't feel like eating. Day and night I wandered around his house. But it was locked, and Samuel did not go anywhere.

On the fourth or fifth day, I don’t remember, I went out into the street late in the evening, I saw him walking ahead of me. I immediately recognized him by his wide cloak, his abu - white with red stripes. He walked quietly and limped, leaning on a high staff. I quickened my pace and got ahead of him. The moon shone right on his face, and I recognized him. Blood rushed to my head. One more moment and I would have rushed at him, but I waited out this moment. One thought quickly flashed through my mind. He goes outside the city, to a deserted place. He will probably be near the ravine in which he laid the corpse of my poor Agaria. I let him pass and quietly followed him. My blood bubbled. Hellish joy and anger seethed in my heart. He walked quietly, stopping almost every minute and uttering low, plaintive groans. He was obviously sick and suffering. Finally we left the city. He went straight to the ravine in which I found the corpse of Hagariya. He sank down on the edge of it and with a groan fell face to the ground. He was now in my power. I took out my knife. I could kill him with impunity and push him into a ravine. Somewhere in the depths of my soul it sounded: you will kill the defenseless. But weren't my father, my mother, and my poor dear Hagaria also defenseless? I, like a madman, in a rage, waved a knife over his back ... but at the same moment someone stopped my hand ...

It darkened in my eyes. It was as if some kind of white mist shrouded them. And when this fog dissipated, I saw that I was standing far from the ravine and trembling all over. And suddenly I see that Samuel, groaning softly, got up and, staggering, approached or rather ran up to me. He opened his chest before me, and on this chest was a huge bloody ulcer.

Whoever you are, he cried, have pity on me - kill me! And he fell at my feet. - Kill me, because my life is one unceasing torment. I would have killed myself, but I am afraid of the torment beyond the grave, the eternal torment of a suicide. I have committed a terrible sin. I burned and destroyed a whole village of Samaritans. I sold into captivity the father and mother of one of them named Rabel ben-Ad; I took away his sister Hagaria from him, dishonored her too. I have committed many evil deeds. If I knew where Rabel lives, I would come to him, and he would probably kill me.

At that moment I terribly wanted to say to him: Rabel is in front of you, but I restrained myself. "Not! - I said to myself, - I will open up to him when life will be dear to him, and will not be torment. And from that moment we became inseparable. Now three years have passed. For three years, I, Rabel, have been a constant witness to unbearable suffering, combined with terrible torments of conscience. Once Samuel did not sleep for three whole nights in a row. Constant excruciating pain in all the bones did not give him rest for a minute, and then I thought: “Is it possible to suffer even more, and have I not been avenged enough?” My father, mother and sister have ceased to suffer, and he, this unfortunate villain, is tormented day and night, tormented without ceasing "...

And I realized that no knife, and sword, and fire will punish and avenge as He who controls the stars and moves the seas avenged for me. During these three years, my hatred gradually disappeared. At first, when I listened to the groans of Samuel, every groan and every word of his stirred my heart, and it asked for his blood.

But when he lay helplessly on my chest, exhausted and broken by pain, when he fell asleep on this chest, exhausted by suffering, then the feeling of hatred in me softened, subsided - and I felt only one compassion. I yearned, just as he did, for an end to these sufferings... But sometimes an evil thought occurred to me: to open up, to tell him: “I am Rabel ben-Ad; I am the one whose father, mother and sister you killed. You destroyed my house, ruined it, deprived me of everything, everything that is dear to a person, and you see, I am looking after you as my good friend. I took revenge. I repaid you with good for evil ... ”But such a confession could increase his suffering, one more terrible torment would be added to the torments of conscience, and meanwhile those from whom he suffered were enough, too enough. Why should I continue to torture him?.. For more than two years he cannot live without me. He feels better when I put my hand on his chest and rub it. I threw the knife I wanted to kill him into the river a long time ago. I can't leave him for a long time... and... I'm scared and ashamed to admit even to myself... - and he covered his face with his hands and whispered softly, so softly that Gaidar barely heard his words: - I... I... love him...

Tears rolled from under the fingers pressed to his eyes. Gaidar looked at his heaving chest, and it clearly seemed to him that a "great", human heart was beating in this chest.

Questions and tasks for the fairy tale:

• Do you think that if Samuel had not suffered so much, would he have experienced pangs of conscience?
• If Samuel had recovered and stopped suffering, would Rabel have remained with him?
• Why do you think Rabel fell in love with Samuel?
• Do you think Rabel's act was great, and why? Tell about great deeds of different people from literature or real life.

Paperwork

Write about some great deed or deed that you dream of doing.

Drawing "Greatness of the world"

Draw any images from the world around you that remind you of the Great. For example: mighty oak, starry sky. By their drawings, children tell what thoughts give rise to certain images in them.

An exhibition is made of children's drawings: "Thoughts of the Great".

Scene "Talk about the Great"

Divide the children into pairs. One person from a couple proves that today there are many people capable of generous deeds, and the other convinces him that in the past there were more such people.

Homework

Children write down a quote from the epigraph to the lesson. Ask the children to choose a profession they enjoy, find materials about a great person in that profession, and write them down.

The children then write an essay about how they will work to achieve greatness in their profession.

Homework

Together with the teacher, the children discuss what makes this or that profession great. A book is compiled from the children's work: "Great in the profession."

LOYALTY TO THE WORD

Consider whether it is true and possible
what do you promise, for a promise is a debt.

Confucius

Tell the children about the Hippocratic Oath that doctors take: “... I promise at all times to help, with all my strength and knowledge, those who resort to my help to those who suffer, to sacredly keep the family secrets entrusted to me and not to use the trust placed in me for evil ... I promise to continue to study medical science and contribute with all my might to its prosperity ... "

Ask the children to list professions that would benefit from taking an oath to better understand what is most important in their work. Everything listed by the children is written on the board. Children are divided into groups and choose one of the professions written on the board. Each group comes up with and writes down an oath that representatives of this profession must take before starting their professional activities. A book is compiled from the children's work "Professional oath".

Questions and tasks for the conversation:

• What is an oath?
• How is an oath different from a simple promise?
• What does it mean to be faithful to your ideal (duty, dream)?
• Do you find it difficult to keep your promises?
• What promises do you find the most difficult to keep: those made to yourself, to your parents, loved ones, friends, or teachers?

Read the story:

HOSTAGE

L. Neelova

It was a long time ago. In the east lived a powerful sultan, so rich that he did not know the number of his lands, jewels, slaves and herds. The Sultan wanted to be known as a wise and just sovereign, but he could not curb his tough and cruel temper. Woe to him who fell under his angry hand; whether the unfortunate man was right or guilty, he was executed anyway. But whoever came to the Sultan when he was in a good mood, all sorts of favors and bounties fell on him.

There lived in that kingdom a rich and pious man named Ayab. And so the Lord wished to test his faithful servant and sent him various troubles and misfortunes. First, the whole field was knocked out of him by hail, then all the cattle died from some kind of disease. Before Ayab had time to come to his senses, he had nothing left and the poor man had to starve with his wife and children.

Ayab fought and fought and decided to go to the Sultan to ask for bread for his family. He prayed to God and set off on his journey. Fate, however, was pleased that the day on which the pious Ayab came to the Sultan was just one of those unfortunate days when the powerful ruler was out of sorts. As soon as he saw Ayab, Kik immediately ordered to cut off his head, not even giving the poor fellow a word to say.

It just wasn’t enough, thought Ayab, to top off all the misfortunes, to lose one more head. - Ears on your knees and began to ask the Sultan to have mercy on him, but the Sultan did not want to listen to anything.

You must die,” he said, “because you came on an unfortunate day, and I swore with my beard that whoever comes to me with any request on that day should lose his head, and what I swore with my beard - you must certainly fulfill it.

Ayab was frightened, but since he was a God-fearing man, then, relying on the will of God, he said:

Two deaths cannot happen, but one cannot be avoided. Let, lord, be as you want - my life belongs to you. But I beg you for one thing: let me go home, say goodbye to my wife and children and bring them bread, otherwise they will die of hunger. The sun will not have time to set, I will be with you again.

Well, - answered the Sultan, - go home and take as much bread as you can bear yourself; but leave a hostage who will answer for you with his head if you do not return by the deadline.

The poor fellow looked sadly at those around him. Everyone, without exception, stood looking down…

Doesn't anyone agree to be my hostage? Ayab asked. - Have pity on me, God will reward you.

So be it, I agree, - suddenly a voice was heard in the middle of the general silence, and from the crowd of courtiers the treasurer, to whom the Sultan entrusted to keep his priceless treasures, stepped forward. But an immeasurably greater treasure than the rarest jewels of the Sultan's treasury was the generous heart of the treasurer ... "Take me, lord, as a hostage for this man," he said with a low bow.

If you please, - answered the Sultan, - I will only tell you, treasurer, I will feel sorry for your head if you have to cut it off because of Ayab.

The wife and children rejoiced when Ayab came and brought them a lot of bread, but when they found out what price the unfortunate father had paid for him, they started crying and did not want to let him go.

And time, meanwhile, went on and on. The sun was sinking lower and lower, and when it was quite close to sunset, the Sultan called the treasurer and said:

Ayab is not returning. I swear by my beard, I feel sorry for you - you are an honest man and a devoted servant to me, but you and I made a promise, and the word must be kept. Prepare to die, soon you will be called to the execution. The treasurer looked at the sun and said:

I am ready for anything, lord, my hour will come, I will die without grumbling.

A little while later, the guards appeared and led the treasurer to the place of execution. There, on a high scaffold, stood an executioner, and around the scaffold gathered people, apparently and invisibly. Everyone felt sorry for the innocent treasurer, and many wept bitterly. Another last ray was sent by the setting star and slowly began to fade; the executioner had already raised his terrible sword, when suddenly a man appeared in the distance. Covered in dust and dirt, choking with fatigue, he ran with all his strength and shouted:

Stop, stop! Release my hostage, take me to my execution.

Here the executioner lowered his sharp sword, and the sultan - his proud head ... “Go,” he said to Ayab and the treasurer, “I forgive you. You taught me a lesson that I will never forget for the rest of my life. There is nothing more beautiful in the world than being true to your promise and the greatness of the soul that you both showed today. From now on, I will not have bad days, but there will always be days of mercy, meekness and justice ... But you, my friends, go to the treasury and take for yourself what you like - the lesson you gave me is worthy of the greatest reward.

Questions and tasks for the fairy tale:

• What should a good ruler be loyal to?
• What qualities should a ruler have so that the life of his subjects does not depend on his mood?
• What qualities must a person have to give his life as a pledge for another person?
• Can you break the vow you made without thinking?
• Did the sultan's loyalty to his word differ from the loyalty to his word of Ayab and the treasurer, and in what way?
• If you were Ayab, would you return to the king?

Paperwork

Write a story about the actions of a ruler who is loyal to his people.

The Broken Promise Game

Invite the children to write on slips of paper, without signing anyone's name, about any of their classmate's broken promises that upset them the most. The teacher collects the papers and hangs them on the stand. After the children have read everything they have written about each other, ask them to think of any broken promises they have made and try to keep them.

Scene "Is it possible to break the oath"

Divide the children into pairs. One of the couple proves that there are such critical situations in life when a person can break his word, and the other convinces him that the oath must not be broken under any circumstances.

Homework

Invite everyone to make some promises to themselves and write them down, such as not being rude to loved ones, exercising, cleaning their room, etc. After a week, the children should write whether they succeeded in keeping their word, and, if not, why.

Homework

Discuss with the children what is most preventing them from keeping their promises. Invite them to hang a calendar on the wall and circle only the days when they manage to keep a particular promise. At the end of the year (month, semester), the children tell if this task helped them learn to keep their promises.

HEART OF COURAGE

O courageous heart
all troubles are broken.

Miguel Cervantes

Creative task "Who is more courageous"

Divide the children into groups so that some have only boys and others have only girls. The boys should remember and tell about the courageous act of a woman that impressed them; and girls - about the courageous act of a man. Then the teacher discusses with the children why some people are able to perform courageous acts, while others are not.

Questions and tasks for conversation

• What situations in everyday life require courage from a person?
• How can courage help a person cope with a serious illness?
• What does it mean to face the truth with courage?

Read the story:

WHEN MUSIC IS STRONGER THAN DEATH

When the occupation began and the Parisian cafe, in which Charles played so enthusiastically in the evenings, closed, he went on foot to his hometown. Charles did not take anything on the road except his main treasure, the guitar. With her, he could always find a place to sleep, a piece of bread and a mug of wine on the road. Halfway home, Charles witnessed the execution of two men in the square of a small town. The soldiers drove the entire population to the square and ordered everyone, as a warning, to stand and look at the executed until the evening. People stood silently and dejectedly, their eyes buried in the ground.

What are they for? - asked Charles, who approached the gray-haired old man.

Be quiet, it's none of our business, - the old man whispered and hunched his already stooped shoulders even more.

Charles felt how gray fear enveloped the entire square like a sticky web, bent people to the ground. Even the children were silent. Then he carefully took out his guitar from the case and gently touched its strings. People looked at him in surprise and fear.

Now we are not up to songs and not to music, - but the guitar was already singing at the top of its voice.

From her ringing motive, people first felt cold under their hearts, and then their eyes sparkled, and their heads rose. The lips moved, silently repeating the invocative words of the Marseillaise behind the guitar: Rise for the Motherland! The day of glory has arrived.

The soldiers shoved the crowd with rifle butts and began to disperse people from the square. They snatched the guitar from Charles and took him to the police station.

The next morning the officer said to Charles:

You're in luck, musician. I was supposed to shoot you, but my friend, the chief of security in a concentration camp, is looking for musicians for the orchestra.

So the curly-haired guitarist Charles ended up in a concentration camp along with his guitar.

You will play German marches to strengthen faith in our invincibility, discipline and order, - the officer told him, handing over several sheets of music.

During an evening walk, Charles went out with his guitar to the middle of the prison yard. He tossed his head, and his fingers darted. The guitar sang solemnly and loudly. From all the barracks, chains of people reached the prison yard, and soon they surrounded the musician in a dense ring. Charles's face flushed, his eyes shone, and his guitar rang with rolling and menacing trills. It was an improvisation, but only a deaf person would not hear the same loud call of the Marseillaise in this music.

And how, a few days ago, in the square, the dull eyes of people were filled with the light of freedom, and their lowered shoulders straightened.

The angry guards took Charles away and cut off his fingertips.

You did not want to play marches, so tomorrow you will work together with everyone in the quarry! - ordered the head of security.

Charles did not remember pushing a heavy wheelbarrow with stones. Not only the stumps of his fingers throbbed with pain, but his entire body. In order not to fall and lose consciousness from pain, he silently sang the same invocative motive, and this helped him to endure the day.

In the evening, he could not even reach the dining room and, writhing in pain, collapsed exhausted on the bunk. But when it was time for an evening walk, Charles suddenly got up, took his guitar and went out into the prison yard. No, he couldn't play, but he could sing and beat the rhythm on his guitar. His song did not sound very loud, but it penetrated every barrack and every heart. First one timid voice joined Charles, then another, then a third...

The song grew and expanded. What a song it was! The crowd surrounded Charles in a dense ring, and the soldiers had to shoot into the air so that people parted. The guards just went berserk, they smashed the guitar and cut out Charles's tongue.

To the great surprise of the prisoners, the next evening he reappeared in the center of the prison yard, dancing to the music that everyone heard in their hearts. Soon all the people were dancing, arms clasped around his bleeding, trembling figure. This time, the guards, fascinated by what they saw, did not move.

• What helped Charles to be courageous?
• What helps you maintain courage in difficult situations?
• What do you think, from what sources can a person draw courage (love for the Motherland, faith in God, etc.)?
• Talk about when and how music helps people to keep their courage.
• What music or song gives you strength?

Scene "Is it necessary to tell the truth"

Divide the children into pairs. In a dialogue scene, one person from a pair proves that a courageous person must always tell the truth to everyone, and the other convinces him that if the truth can offend a person, then real courage is not to express it.

Read the legend

FEAR OF DEATH

Indian legend

It happened in a fishing village. Many fishing families who built bamboo huts among the trees that grew on the sea coast have lived in it since time immemorial.

Every day they launched their boats into the sea while the red of the sunset still colored the evening sky, and sailed until the sea turned from purple-red to black. Then they, spreading their nets wide, sat in their boats, waiting for the catch, singing the songs they had heard from their fathers, until the sky was reddened in the morning. Then they pulled out their nets and sailed home.

Sometimes they went far out to sea in search of new fishing grounds. If they were caught by a storm on the high seas, they died. Then the dead were mourned in the huts of the dead. Sadness filled the hearts, but it did not last long. The vast expanses of the sea stirred their blood again. The call of the sea was irresistible for them, and they again raised the sails.

Antonio also lost his father one day. A fisherman, a friend of his father, came to their house and said that his father's boat had capsized in the raging sea, and he himself had disappeared. But the fishermen managed to pull his boat ashore.

Antonio and his mother mourned his father for a long time and inconsolably, and he gave the boat to the boat masters for repair, and in a week she was again ready for sailing. In the evening, when Antonio went to the market to buy a new chain there, he met the landowner's son. The landowner's son asked Antonio:

Are you buying a network?

Yes. Tomorrow I will go to sea. Will you come with me?

What? In the sea? No, it's not for me, I'm afraid of the sea. I heard that your father drowned last week.

So what?

And after that you are not afraid?

Why should I be afraid? I am the son of a fisherman. Fishermen are not afraid of the sea.

Now tell me, who was your grandfather?

He was also a fisherman.

And how did he die?

He was caught at sea by a storm and never came back again.

And his father? - asked the son of the landowner.

He also died at sea. But he was an even more courageous man: he went to the eastern coast of the country and became a pearl diver. He drowned: he went to the depths and did not swim up again.

Weird! What kind of people are you? You all always perish at sea and yet you go there again and again! exclaimed the landowner's son.

But now it was Antonio's turn to ask questions. And, scratching the back of his head, he asked:

I heard that your grandfather passed away recently, where did he die?

He died at home, in his sleep. He was old. When the servant decided to wake him up, he found him already dead.

What about your great-grandfather?

He, too, was old and died of illness at home.

And his father?

I was told that he was ill for a long time and died in his house.

My God! They all died in your house. And you continue to live in this house? And you're not afraid?

It was worth seeing the face of the son of the landowner after these words.

Questions and tasks for the legend:

• Are you afraid of death? Why are some people not afraid of death?
• What do you think, is it possible to call a man who is not afraid of death courageous?
• If people choose jobs that risk their lives, does that mean they are not afraid of death?

Paperwork

Think of a time in your life when you lacked courage, and write down what would have happened if you had acted courageously.

Homework

Find information about how any creative people (scientists, writers, artists) showed courage during the war, and write a story about them.

Homework

Children read their stories. A book is compiled from the children's work: "Examples of Courage".

SHOW COMPASSION

Compassion is expressed in
that you become unhappy
because of the suffering of others.

Bertrand Russell

Creative task "Learning to be compassionate"

Divide the children into groups and give them cards with the names of famous literary characters. Children should come up with and tell how they would show compassion for certain literary heroes.

Questions and tasks for the conversation:

• What do you think, if a person experiences their grief together with others, does he become unhappier because of this?
• If you meet a man weeping bitterly on the street, will you approach him?
• If you feel bad and a stranger offers to help you, how do you react?
• Who among the people around you needs compassion the most, and why?

Read the story:

HAPPY PRINCE

O. Wilde

On a tall pillar above the city stood a statue of the Happy Prince. The prince was covered from top to bottom with sheets of pure gold. Instead of eyes, he had sapphires, and a large ruby ​​shone on the hilt of his sword. Everyone admired the Prince.

One night a Swallow flew over the city. Her friends had already flown to Egypt for the seventh week, and she lagged behind them, because she was in love with the flexible beautiful Reed. When they flew away, the Swallow felt like an orphan, and this attachment to Reed seemed to her very painful.

Let him be a homebody, but I love to travel, and my husband would do well to love travel too.

Well, will you fly with me? she finally asked, but Reed just shook his head: he was so attached to the house! ...

And she flew away.

She flew all day and arrived in the city by nightfall.

"Where can I stay here?" thought the Swallow. “I hope the city has already prepared to meet me with dignity?”

Then she saw a statue on a high column.

That is great. I'll settle down here: a beautiful place and a lot of fresh air.

And she nestled at the feet of the Happy Prince.

I have a golden bedroom! she said softly, looking around.

And she had already settled down to sleep and hid her head under her wing, when suddenly a heavy drop fell on her.

How strange! she wondered. - The sky is clear. The stars are so pure, clear - where does the rain come from?

Here another drop fell.

What is the use of a statue, if it is not even able to shelter from the rain. I'll look for shelter somewhere near the chimney on the roof. - And the Swallow decided to fly away.

But before she had time to spread her wings, the third drop fell.

The swallow looked up, and what did she see! The eyes of the Happy Prince were filled with tears.

Tears rolled down his gilded cheeks. And so beautiful was his face in the moonlight, “then the Swallow was filled with pity.

Who are you? she asked.

I am the Happy Prince.

But why are you crying? You soaked me through.

When I was alive, I had a living human heart, I did not know what tears were, the statue answered. - I lived in the palace of Sans Souci (carelessness, fr.), where sorrow is forbidden to enter. During the day I played in the garden with my friends, and in the evening I danced in the Great Hall. The garden was surrounded by a high wall, and I never thought to ask what was going on behind it. Everything around me was so beautiful! "Happy Prince" - my entourage called me, and indeed I was happy, if only in pleasures happiness. So I lived, so I died. And now, when I am no longer alive, they put me here above, so high that I can see all the sorrows and all the poverty of my capital. And although my heart is now made of lead, I cannot help crying.

There, far away, on a narrow street, I see a shabby house, - the statue continued in a low, melodious voice. - However, the window is open and I can see a woman sitting at the table. Her face is haggard, her hands are rough and red, they are completely punctured by a needle, because she is a seamstress. She is embroidering passion flowers on the silk dress of the most beautiful of the Queen's ladies-in-waiting for the next court ball. And in bed, closer to the corner, her sick child. Her boy is in a fever and asks to be given oranges. But mother has nothing but river water. And this boy is crying. Swallow, Swallow, little Swallow! Will you take the ruby ​​from my sword for her? My feet are chained to the pedestal and I am unable to move.

They are waiting for me and will not wait in Egypt, - answered the Swallow. - My friends circle over the Nile and talk with lush lotuses.

Swallow, swallow, little swallow. Stay here for one night only, and be my messenger. The boy is so thirsty, and his mother is so sad.

I don't really like a boy. Last summer, when I lived by the river, the miller's children, the wicked boys, were always throwing stones at me.

However, the Happy Prince was so saddened that the Swallow took pity on him.

It's very cold here," she said, "but never mind, I'll stay with you tonight and do your errands.

Thank you, little Swallow, said the Happy Prince.

And so the Swallow pecked out a large ruby ​​from the sword of the Happy Prince and flew with this ruby ​​over the city roofs.

And finally she flew to the wretched house! and looked there. The boy tossed about in the heat, and his mother fell asleep soundly - she was so tired. The swallow crept into the closet and laid the ruby ​​on the table, next to the seamstress's thimble. Then she began to silently circle over the boy, bringing coolness to his face.

How good I felt! - said the child. So I'll get better soon. And he fell into a pleasant slumber.

And the Swallow returned to the Happy Prince and told him everything.

And strangely, - she concluded her story, - although it is cold outside, I am not at all cold.

It's because you did a good deed! the Happy Prince explained to her.

And the Swallow thought about it, but immediately fell asleep. As soon as she thought about it, she fell asleep.

At dawn, she flew to the river to swim ...

When the moon rose, the Swallow returned to the Happy Prince.

Do you have assignments to Egypt? she asked loudly. - I'm leaving this minute.

Swallow, Swallow, little Swallow! pleaded the Happy Prince. - Stay for one night only.

They expect me in Egypt, - answered the Swallow. - Tomorrow my friends will fly to the second rapids of the Nile ...

Swallow, Swallow, little Swallow! said the Happy Prince to her. - There, far outside the city, I see a young man in the attic. He bent over the table, over the papers. Faded violets in a glass in front of him. His lips are scarlet like pomegranates, his brown hair is curly, and his eyes are large and dreamy. He is in a hurry to finish his play for the Director of the Theater, but he is too cold, the fire has burned out in his hearth, and he is about to faint from hunger.

Okay, I'll stay with you until the morning! said the Swallow to the Prince. She had a kind heart. - Where is your other ruby?

I have no more rubies, alas! said the Happy Prince. - My eyes are all that's left. They are made of rare sapphires and were brought from India a thousand years ago. Peck out one of them and take it to that person. He will sell it to the jeweler and buy himself food and firewood and finish his play.

Dear Prince, I can't do this! And the Swallow began to cry.

Swallow, Swallow, little Swallow! Fulfill my will!

And the Swallow pecked out the eyes of the Happy Prince and flew to the poet's dwelling. It was not difficult for her to penetrate there, for the roof was full of holes. Through this roof the Swallow crept into the room. The young man sat, covering his face with his hands, and did not hear the flutter of wings. Only then did he notice the sapphire in a pile of withered violets.

However, they begin to appreciate me! he exclaimed happily. - This is from some noble admirer. Now I can finish my play. And happiness was on his face.

Only in the evening did the Swallow return to the Happy Prince.

I came to say goodbye to you! she screamed from a distance.

Swallow, Swallow, little Swallow! pleaded the Happy Prince. - Will you stay until morning?

Now it is winter, - answered the Swallow, - and soon cold snow will fall here. And in Egypt, the sun warms the green leaves of palm trees ... My friends are already making nests in the Baalbek temple, and white and pink doves look at them and coo. Dear Prince, I cannot stay, but I will never forget you, and when spring comes, I will bring you two gems from Egypt instead of the ones you gave away. Redder than a red rose you will have a Ruby, and a sapphire bluer than a sea wave.

Down in the square, said the Happy Prince, there stands a little girl who sells matches. She dropped them into a ditch, they went bad, and her father would kill her if she returned without money. She is crying. She has neither shoes nor stockings, and her head is uncovered. Gouge out my other eye, give it to the girl, and her father won't beat her.

I can stay with you one more night, - answered the Swallow, - but I cannot peck out your eye. After all, then you will be completely blind.

Swallow, Swallow, little Swallow! - said the Happy Prince, - do my will!

And she pecked out the second eye of the Prince, and flew up to the girl, and dropped a wonderful sapphire into her hand.

What a beautiful glass! - exclaimed the little girl and, laughing, ran home.

The swallow returned to the Prince.

Now that you are blind, I will stay with you forever.

No, my dear Swallow, - answered the unfortunate Prince, - you must go to Egypt.

I will stay with you forever, - said the Swallow and fell asleep at his feet.

In the morning she sat on his shoulder all day and told him about what she saw in distant lands: about pink ibises that stand in a long phalanx on the shallows of the Nile and catch goldfish with their beaks; about the Sphinx, old as the world, living in the desert and knowing everything; about the merchants who walk slowly beside their camels and sort through the amber rosary...

Dear Swallow, said the Happy Prince, everything you say is amazing. But the most amazing thing in the world is human suffering. Where will you find them a clue? Fly over my city, dear Swallow, and tell me everything you see.

And the Swallow flew over the whole huge city, and she saw how the rich rejoiced in magnificent chambers, and the poor sat at their doorsteps. She visited the dark back streets and saw the pale faces of emaciated children, looking sadly at the black street ...

The swallow returned to the Prince and told everything she had seen.

I am all gilded,” said the Happy Prince. “Take off my gold, sheet by sheet, and distribute it to the poor ...

Leaf by leaf, the Swallow removed the gold from the statue until the Happy Prince was dull and grey. Sheet after sheet she distributed his pure gold to the poor, and the children's cheeks turned pink, and the children began to laugh and started games in the streets.

And we have bread! they shouted.

Then the snow fell, and after the snow came frost. The streets turned silver and began to sparkle ...

The poor swallow was cold and cold, but did not want to leave the Prince, because she loved him very much. She stealthily picked up from the breadcrumbs and flapped her wings to keep warm. But at last she realized that it was time to die. All she had was the strength to climb onto the Prince's shoulder for the last time.

Farewell, dear Prince! she whispered. - Will you let me kiss your hand?

I'm glad you're finally flying to Egypt, - replied the Happy Prince. - You stayed here too long; but you must kiss me on the lips because I love you.

I'm not flying to Egypt, - answered the Swallow. - I'm flying to the abode of Death. Are death and sleep brothers?

And she kissed the Happy Prince on the mouth, and fell dead at his feet.

And at the same moment a strange crack was heard at the statue inside, as if something had burst. It's a broken heart of tin. It was truly bitter cold.

Early in the morning the Mayor of the City walked down the boulevard, and with him the City Counselors. Passing by the Prince's column, the Mayor looked at the statue.

God! What a ragamuffin this Happy Prince has become! the Mayor exclaimed.

That's right, that's a rogue! - picked up the City Councilors, who always agreed with the Mayor in everything.

And they approached the Statue to examine it.

The ruby ​​is no longer in his sword, his eyes have fallen out, and the gilding has come off him, - continued the Mayor. - He is worse than any beggar!

It is worse than a beggar! the City Councilors confirmed.

And at his feet some kind of dead bird is lying. We should have issued a decree: birds are not allowed to die here.

And the Secretary of the city council immediately entered this proposal into the book.

And toppled the statue of the Happy Prince.

And they melted the statue in a furnace, and called the Mayor of the city council, and decided what to do with the metal.

Let's make a new statue! Mayor suggested. - And let this new statue represent me!

Me! - said each adviser, and they all began to quarrel.

Marvelous! - said the Chief Caster. - This broken pewter heart does not want to melt in the furnace. We must throw it away.

And he threw it into a pile of litter where the dead Swallow lay.

And the Lord commanded his angel:

Bring me the most valuable thing you can find in this city.

And the angel brought him a pewter heart and a dead bird.

You made the right choice, said the Lord. “For in my gardens of paradise this little bird will sing forever and ever, and in my shining hall the Happy Prince will give me praise.

Questions and tasks for the fairy tale:

• Why did the Happy Prince not notice the suffering of his subjects during his lifetime?
• What do you think, if the statue-Prince were offered to come to life and return to the palace, would he agree?
• When do you think the Prince was truly happy: when he lived in a palace or when he became a statue?
• How do you understand the words of the Happy Prince: "The most amazing thing in the world is human suffering"?
• Why did the swallow fulfill all the requests of the Happy Prince?
• Why do you think she fell in love with him?
• What does the statue of the Happy Prince symbolize?
• Why couldn't the Happy Prince's pewter heart melt?
• Who do you think is more compassionate: women or men, and why? Does the ability to compassion depend on the gender and age of a person?
• Why do you think people who are doing well often do not notice the suffering of others?

Scene "The Prince and the Swallow"

Divide the children into pairs. One person in a pair is a swallow, the other is the Happy Prince. Each couple should think and tell others what they will do so that people in their city do not quarrel with each other, do not starve, do not slander, do not get sick, etc. Each couple can choose one or another problem that prevents people from being happy.

We compose a fairy tale "See suffering"

Imagine that you got to the palace of the Happy Prince when he was alive. Write a story about how you taught him to see people's suffering and come to their aid.

Drawing "The Most Valuable"

Imagine that an angel has flown to your city to take something most valuable to heaven. Draw what the angel chose. An exhibition is made of children's drawings: "Most valuable".

Homework

Children write down a quote from Bertrand Russell from the epigraph to the lesson.

Ask the children to find someone who needs compassion. Children should talk to this person, try to find out about his problems and help him in some way, for example: sympathize, give something, advise, do something for him, etc.

Homework

Discuss with the children if they were able to help people who needed help and how they did it.

TALK ABOUT CONSCIENCE

Work hard so that in your soul
those tiny sparks of heavenly fire did not die,
what is called conscience

George Washington

Creative task "Conversations with conscience"

Ask the children to think and list why a person needs a conscience. All of the above is written on the board. Then the children are divided into groups and come up with an “interview with conscience” on the questions:

• When did you first appear as a human?
• What do you dislike most about a person?
• Tell me about the people you are proud of.
• Can you influence a person who forgets about you?
• How to learn not to forget about you?
• What happens to you when your master sleeps?
• How can you help your master? etc.

Then the representatives from the groups take turns reading their interviews. A book is compiled from the children's work: "Conversations with Conscience".

Questions and tasks for the conversation:

• What is conscience for?
• What does it mean when it is said of someone that this person is at odds with his conscience?
• What kind of person is said to have a mirrored conscience?
• What should a person be like to have a peaceful conscience?
• If people had no conscience, would they be happier?
• How can a clear conscience reward a person?
• Why is conscience often referred to as a person's doctor or mentor? Have you ever felt that your conscience is teaching or healing you?
• Can a person's conscience be his inner judge?
• What golden rules does a man's conscience teach him?

Read the story:

NAMED FATHER

Ukrainian fairy tale

Three brothers remained orphans - neither father nor mother. No stake, no yard. So they went to the villages, to the farms to be hired as workers. They go and think: “Oh, if only they could be hired by a good master!” Look, the old man is walking, old, old, white beard to the waist. The old man caught up with his brothers and asked:

Where are you going, kids? And they answer:

Let's go hire.

Don't you have your own farm?

No, they answer. - If we got a good owner, we would honestly work for him, obey and revere him like our own father.

The old man thought and said:

Well then, you be my sons, and I will be your father. I will make people out of you - I will teach you to live in honor, in conscience, just listen to me.

The brothers agreed and followed the old man. They go through dark forests, wide fields. They go and go and see - the hut is standing, so smart, white, lined with variegated flowers. Nearby is a cherry orchard. And in the garden - a girl, comely, cheerful, like those flowers. The older brother looked at her and said:

If only I could marry this girl! Yes, more cows and oxen!

And the old man to him:

Well, - he says, - let's go to get married. If you have a wife, you will have oxen and cows - live happily, just do not forget the truth.

They went, got married, celebrated a merry wedding. The older brother became the owner and stayed with his young wife in that hut to live.

And the old man with his younger brothers went on. They go through dark forests, wide fields. They go and go and see - the hut is standing, good, bright. And next to the pond. There is a mill by the pond. And a pretty girl near the hut is doing something - such a hard worker. The middle brother looked at her and said:

If only I could marry this girl! And in addition a mill with a pond. I would sit at the mill, grind bread - I would be full and satisfied.

And the old man to him:

Well son, have it your way!

They went to that hut, wooed the girl, celebrated the wedding. Now the middle brother stayed with his young wife in the hut to live.

The old man tells him:

Well, son, live happily, just don't forget the truth.

And they went on - the younger brother and named father. They go, they look - the poor hut is standing, and the girl comes out of the hut, like a handsome dawn, and such is poorly dressed - just a patch on a patch. Here is the little brother and says:

If only I could marry this girl! If we worked, we would have bread. We would not forget about the poor people: we would eat ourselves and share with people.

Then the old man says:

Good, son, so be it. Just look, do not forget the truth.

He also married this one, and went his own way.

And the brothers live. The older one has become so rich that he is already building houses for himself and saving chervonets - all he thinks about is how he could accumulate more of those chervonets. And to help a poor person is out of the question!

The middle one also got hold of it: the laborers began to work for him, and he himself only lies and orders.

The younger one lives on the sly: if something starts up at home, he will share it with people, but there is nothing, and so it’s okay - he doesn’t complain.

So the named father walked, walked around the wide world, and he wanted to see how his sons live somehow, they do not disagree with the truth. He pretended to be a poor old man, came to his eldest son, walked around the yard, bowed low, and said:

Give the wretched old man a living from your generosity!

And the son replies:

You're not that old, don't pretend! If you want, you will earn! I recently got on my feet.

And right next to it, chests are bursting, houses are built with new things, shops are full of goods, bins are full of bread, money is uncountable. But he did not give charity! The old man left with nothing. He walked away, maybe a mile away, stood on a hillock, looked back at that farm and at that good - so it all blazed!

He went to the middle brother. He comes, and he has a mill, a pond, and a good economy. He himself sits at the mill. The grandfather bowed low and said:

Give, good man, at least a handful of flour! I am a miserable wanderer, I have nothing to eat.

Well, yes, - he answers, - I still haven’t grinded myself! There are a lot of you roaming around here, you can’t get enough of everyone!

The old man left with nothing. He walked away a little, stood on a hillock, looked around, and that mill was enveloped in smoke and flames!

The old man came to the younger son. And he lives in poverty, the hut is small, just clean.

Give, - says the old man, - good people, at least a crust of bread! And the smaller one for him:

Go to the hut, grandfather, they will feed you there and give you to go.

He comes to the hut. The hostess looked at him, sees - he is in tatters, tattered, took pity on him.

I went to the crate, brought a shirt, pants, gave it to him. He put on. And as he began to put on this shirt, the hostess saw a large wound on his chest. She seated the old man at the table, fed and watered him. And then the owner asks:

Tell me, grandfather, why is there such a wound on your chest?

Yes, - he says, - I have such a wound that I will soon die from it. I have one day left to live.

What trouble! - says the wife. - And there is no medicine for this wound?

There is, - he says, - one thing, but only no one will give it, even though everyone can. Then the husband says;

Why not give? Tell me what's the medicine?

Difficult! If the owner takes and sets fire to his hut with all the good, and fills my wound with ashes from that conflagration, then the wound will close and heal.

The younger brother thought. He thought for a long time, and then he said to his wife:

What do you think?

Yes, - the wife answers, - that we will make another hut, and a good man will die and suddenly not be born.

Well, if so, take the children out of the hut. They took the children out and left on their own. The man looked at the hut - he felt sorry for his good. And sorry for the old man. I took it and set it on fire. The hut got busy and ... disappeared. And in its place stood another - white, tall, smart.

And grandfather is standing, grinning in his beard.

I see, - he says, - son, that of the three of you, you alone did not miss the truth. Live happily!

Then the younger son of his named father recognized, rushed to him, and he was gone.

Questions and tasks for the fairy tale:

• Who does the old man from the fairy tale symbolize?
• Do prosperity and wealth always make people forget their conscience?
• Do you know rich people who live in good conscience?
• If you were a magician, how would you help people remember their conscience?
• How can a conscientious person thank his parents for their concern?
• When do you think people were more conscientious: before or now, and why?

Drawing "What Conscience Looks Like"

Ask the children to think of what a conscience is like, and then draw a picture of the concept. For example: in the form of a mirror, a candle, a flower, a bird. The children explain their images from the pictures. An exhibition is made of children's drawings: "Wonderful images".

Scene "Mirror of conscience"

Children are divided into groups of three. One person is holding a mirror. This is a magic mirror of conscience. The other two are friends who quarreled over something. In a dialogue scene, the owner of the mirror of conscience must judge two friends in good conscience.

Read the story:

CONSCIENCE

(From a hundred Chinese fairy tales)

V. Doroshevich

This happened in ancient times, when chronicles were not yet written. In those immemorial times Conscience was born. She was born on a quiet night, when everything is thinking. The river thinks, shining in the moonlight, the reed thinks, frozen, the grass thinks, the sky thinks. That's why it's so quiet. Plants invent flowers at night, nightingales invent songs, and stars invent the future.

On such a night, when everyone thought, the Conscience was born, and went through the earth.

She was half good, half bad. During the day no one wanted to talk to her. Day not before. There is a construction site, ditches are being dug there.

She approaches someone, he waves her hands and feet away from her:

Can't you see what's going on around you? Is it time to talk to you?!

But at night the conscience was calm. She went into rich houses and reed huts. Gently touched the sleeper's shoulder. He woke up, saw her burning eyes in the dark and asked:

What do you want?

And what did you do today? Conscience asked.

What I did? It doesn't seem like he did anything!

Think.

Is this this...

Conscience went to another, and the awakened person could not fall asleep until morning. And much that he did not hear in the noise of the day was heard in the silence of the thoughtful night.

And few people slept, insomnia attacked everyone. Even the rich, neither doctors nor herbs helped.

The wise ruler of those places himself did not know the cure for insomnia. Everyone around him was indebted to him, and all his life they did nothing but pay off his debts. When one of the debtors stole a handful of rice from him, the ruler severely punished the thief so that others would not be accustomed. During the day it came out very wisely, because the others were really afraid.

And at night, Conscience came to the ruler, and then completely different thoughts came into his head: “Why did this person steal? Because there is nothing. Why is there nothing to eat? Because there is no time to earn money, all he does all day is work off my debts.

The wise ruler even laughed at these thoughts: “What does it come out, they robbed me, but I’m wrong!”

He laughed, but he still couldn't sleep. Before his sleepless nights harassed him, that one day he took it and announced:

I will return to the people all their money, all their lands and all their houses, only let my Conscience leave me alone. At this point, the relatives of the wise ruler raised a cry:

It was madness that attacked him from sleepless nights! Everyone is complaining:

And “she” torments me with insomnia!

Everyone was scared: both the rich and the poor. And the people decided:

It is necessary to ask the wisest scientist in China for advice. No one can help you but him!

They equipped the embassy, ​​brought gifts, bowed to the ground many times and explained what they had come for. The scientist listened, thought, smiled and said:

Can help! It is possible to do so that "she" will not even have the right to come!

Everyone was so worried.

And the scientist smiled again and said:

Let's make laws! Let us write on the scrolls what a person should do and what not. Tangerines will learn the laws by heart, and let others come to them to ask: is it possible or not.

Let then "she" come and ask: "What did you do today?" "And then he did what is written in the scrolls." And everyone will sleep peacefully. Of course, everyone will pay the tangerines: it is not for nothing that they will fill their brains with laws.

Everyone here rejoiced. They began to write what a person should do and what should not. And they wrote. And the people got on very well. Only the very last poor people, who had nothing to pay even a mandarin for their conscience, suffered from insomnia. And the rest, as soon as Conscience came to them at night, said:

“What are you doing to us! I followed the law! As it is written in the scrolls! I'm not myself!

Turned to the other side and fell asleep ...

Questions and tasks for the fairy tale:

• Have you ever experienced pangs of conscience?
• Do you think there is a conscience in every person?
• What kind of person is called conscientious, and what is called unscrupulous?
• How do you understand the expression: "his conscience spoke"?
• Can conscience fall asleep, die, get sick?
• Can a person cure his conscience, and how?

We compose a fairy tale "Birthday of conscience"

Write a legend about how conscience was born on earth.

Paperwork

Children receive cards with the names of different professions, for example: doctor, teacher, salesman, builder, and write an essay on the topic of what a representative of a particular profession should be like and how he should work so that they say about him that he works in good conscience . A book is compiled from the children's writings: "We work with integrity."

Homework

Children write down a quote from George Washington from the epigraph to the lesson. Ask the children to write a plan for what they need to change about themselves so that they can always live in friendship with their conscience. For example: always tell the truth, try to put yourself in the place of another, pay attention to the suffering of others, be grateful, do not offend the weak, etc.

Homework

Children read out their plans and, together with the teacher, draw up a general plan "Friendship with Conscience", which is posted on the stand. The teacher suggests that the children start a notebook “Conversation with conscience”, in which they should write down how they succeed or, conversely, fail to live in friendship with their conscience.

MYSTERY OF MERCY

All the gold in the world has no value;
only those merciful deeds are eternal,
which we are capable of doing
for the sake of your neighbors.

Adolf Prieto

The game "Who will be saved"

Ask the children to imagine that they are walking through the desert and give them roles such as old man, mother, child, father, guide, etc. Five to ten people participate in the game, the rest are judges. The teacher lays out cards on the table with everything that a person can take with him on a trip, for example: a car, a horse, a camel, a bottle of water, a book, a bag of dried fruits, a warm blanket, a shovel, sandwiches, etc. There must be five times as many cards as there are players. The teacher sets the situation, for example: you need to cross the desert in a week. Children take turns tossing the dice and taking as many cards from the table as there are numbers on the dice. Then they tell how they will deal with what they got, for example: they won’t take it with them, they will share it with someone, they will use it only for themselves. Judges decide whether this or that person disposed of his property correctly. After the game, the children, together with the teacher, discuss how the kindness and mercy shown during the game helped them cross the desert.

Questions and tasks for the conversation:

• Is it worth it to be merciful in our time?
• Who needs mercy and compassion the most?
• Should I tell everyone about my merciful deeds and expect gratitude for them?
• Can other people be reproached for not showing mercy?
• Is it easy for you to show mercy, to whom and in what situations?
• Are there people who are not worthy of mercy?
• Do you know charitable organizations based on mercy and compassion? Would you like to work for such an organization, and why?
• Do you think giving alms is a manifestation of mercy or not?

Read the story:

THE KEY OF THE MERCY ENEMY

V. Nemirovich-Danchenko

The caravan was moving through the desert… The sun was burning. The golden mounds of sand disappeared into a dazzling distance. The sky was drowned in an opal glow. Ahead, a white winding line of the road ... It, in fact, was not. The skeletons of fallen camels seemed to be dear here. The wells were left behind, and the pilgrims took water with them for two days. Only tomorrow they will be able to reach the oasis with stunted palms. In the morning, wonderful hazes with blue waters, with shady groves, still seemed in the distance. Now the mirages are gone. Everything froze under the stern gaze of the merciless sun ... The riders swayed sleepily, following the guide. Someone sang, but in the desert and the song falls on the soul with tears. And the singer immediately fell silent. Silence ... Only the steady rustle of thin feet plunging into the sand was heard, and the rustle of silk curtains, behind which dark-faced Bedouins were hiding from the heat. Everything froze, even the human soul! At least the caravan met a dying Arab on the way; beside him lay a driven horse, white on the golden sand; the rider, wrapping his head in a white burnous, laid it on the lifeless body of his friend ... Camels passed impassively. None of the people even turned their heads to where, from under the white lye, the gaze of the one who was dying in the desert followed them sharply and greedily ... The whole caravan had already passed him. Only the old man, riding behind, suddenly dismounted from his saddle and leaned over the Arab.

- What happened to you?

- Drink! was the only thing the dying man could say. The old man looked after the caravan - it slowly

moved into a blinding distance, no one looked back. The old man raised his head in height, and from there he suddenly felt something, some kind of wind that penetrated his soul ... The old man took off the waterskins, first washed the face and mouth of the dying man, then gave him a sip ... another.

The face of the dying man revived.

Are you from the Ommiad family?

“Yes…” the old man replied.

- I guessed by the sign on your hand ... I am from the El Hamids. We are mortal enemies...

- In the desert before the face of Allah - we are only brothers. Drink!.. I am old, you are young. Drink and live...

The dying man greedily fell to the furs... The old man put him on his camel...

“Go and tell your people about the revenge of one of the Ommiads.

“I still don’t have much left to live.

- Let's go together.

- It is forbidden. The camel is small, it cannot bear such weight.

The Arab hesitated. But he was young, fame and love awaited him. He silently sat down... Stopped...

- Do you have relatives?

- Nobody! answered the old man.

- Goodbye!

The one who remained looked after him for a long time ... He deceived his enemy. The old man had children, but they were famous as brave warriors... They no longer needed him.

The caravan disappeared into the dazzling distance... The sun was burning... The sky was drowning in an opal glow. The old man wrapped his head in a blanket and lay face down on the ground.

Several months have passed.

Same desert. The same golden mounds. The same caravan was moving back. In the last oasis, the pilgrims also took water with them for two days ... The riders on tired camels swayed sleepily, and suddenly the guide stopped ...

— What is there? he pointed into the distance. The pilgrims catching up with him also looked there in amazement ... There, among the endless sands, greenery was visible. Tall, proud palm trees spread out, a spring murmured between the lush bushes, and the merry babble of cool jets filled the languid ominous silence of the surrounding desert ... Bright flowers with a gentle fragrance, like a gentle greeting, greeted weary travelers.

By the stream lay the incorruptible body of a merciful old man. He was lifted up, wrapped in silk covers and taken to the oasis of his family.

The Arabs say that a new spring gushed from the deepest bowels of the earth at the command of Allah, where a few drops of water from the furs of the old sheikh fell into the sand. The Bedouins call this wonderful oasis the key of the merciful enemy.

Questions and tasks for the fairy tale:

• Why do you think the old man showed mercy?
• What would you do if you were a young Arab? Was it possible to find some way out to escape together?
• Why did an oasis appear where the merciful old man died?
• Imagine that you are driving through the desert and that you have run out of water. What will you do?

Paperwork

Write down a quote from Adolphe Prieto from the lesson caption, and then write how you would change your life to be more merciful.

Drawing "Oasis of Mercy"

Imagine that every act of charity becomes a blooming oasis in the desert. Draw such an oasis and tell us what needs to change on earth so that all deserts turn into oases, and is it possible.

Creative task "Aid project"

Divide the children into groups. Each group should draw up a project for the activities of a charitable organization. Children should write:

• What will be the name of their organization;
• Who will she help?
• Under what conditions will people work in it;
• Who will finance it;
• Its basic principles, etc.

After the representatives from the groups talk about their projects, the children discuss which of them and how they can be implemented within the school.

Homework

Invite the children to make their own action plan for a charity project.

Homework

Together with the teacher, the children discuss their plans and draw up a general plan of activity. Then "Project Aid" hung out on the stand, and the children begin to implement it.

PHILOSOPHY OF LOVE

Love is a lamp that illuminates the universe;
without the light of love, the earth would turn
into a barren desert, and man
into a handful of dust.

Mary Braddon

Theoretical task "Thinking about love"

Children are divided into groups so that in some groups there are only boys, and in others - only girls. Children should write how a man's love differs from a woman's love, and what a woman and a man should be like so that true love is born between them.

Then representatives from the groups read out the answers of the children. The teacher, together with the children, compares the opinions of boys and girls.

Questions and tasks for the conversation:

• Can you imagine your life without love?
• Do you think a person should love himself? Do you love yourself?
• Does love have its own laws? List them.
• What is the difference between love and infatuation?
• Can love for another person be stronger than love for oneself? When it's possible?
• What do you think self-love is? Can you call yourself a proud person? Do you think this feeling hinders or helps a person in life?

Read a fairy tale

NIGHTINGALING AND ROSE

O. Wilde

She said she would dance with me if I brought her red roses,” exclaimed the young Student, “but there is not a single red rose in my garden.

He was heard by the Nightingale, in his nest on the Oak, and, surprised, looked out of the foliage.

Not a single red rose in all my garden! - continued to complain Student. “Ah, on what trifles happiness sometimes depends! I have read everything that wise people have written, I have comprehended all the secrets of philosophy, and my life is broken just because I do not have a red rose.

Here he is at last, a real lover, - said the Nightingale to himself. “Night after night I sang about him, night after night I told the stars about him, and at last I saw him. His hair is dark like a dark hyacinth, and his lips are red, like the rose he is looking for; but passion made his face as pale as ivory, and grief set a seal on his forehead.

Tomorrow evening the prince is giving a ball, - the young Student whispered, - and my dear is invited. If I bring her a red rose, she will dance with me until dawn. If I bring her a red rose, I will hold her in my arms, she will put her head on my shoulder, and my hand will squeeze hers. But there is no red rose in my garden, and I will have to sit alone, and she will pass by. She won't even look at me, and my heart will burst with grief.

This is a real lover, - said the Nightingale. - What I only sang about, he experiences in practice; What is joy for me is pain for him. Truly love is a miracle. She is more precious than an emerald and more beautiful than the most beautiful opal. Pearls and garnets cannot buy it, and it is not put on the market.

Musicians will sit in the choirs, - continued the young student, - they will play harps and violins, and my dear will dance to the sound of the strings. But she won't want to dance with me because I don't have a red rose for her.

And the young man fell face down on the grass, covered his face with his hands and wept.

What is he crying about? asked a small green Lizard, which crawled past him, wagging its tail.

Yes, really, about what? - picked up the Butterfly, fluttering in pursuit of a sunbeam.

He cries for a red rose, - answered the Nightingale.

About the red rose! they all exclaimed. - Oh, how funny!

Only the Nightingale understood the suffering of the Student, he quietly sat on the Oak and thought about the mystery of love.

But then he spread his dark wings and soared into the air. He flew over the grove like a shadow, and like a shadow flew over the garden. In the middle of the green lawn stood a lush Rose Bush. The nightingale saw him, flew up to him and went down to one of his branches.

My roses are white, he answered, they are white as the foam of the sea, they are whiter than the snow on the mountain peaks. Go to my brother who grows near the old sundial - perhaps he will give you what you ask.

And the Nightingale flew to the Rose Bush that grew near the old sundial.

Give me a red rose, he exclaimed, and I will sing you my best song!

But the Rose Bush shook his head.

My roses are yellow, - he answered, - they are yellow, like the hair of a siren sitting on an amber throne, they are yellower than a golden flower in an unmowed meadow. Go to my brother that grows under the student's window, maybe he will give you what you ask for.

And the Nightingale flew to the Rose Bush that grew under the Student's window.

Give me a red rose, he exclaimed, and I will sing you my best song!

But the Rose Bush shook his head.

My roses are red, he answered, they are red like the legs of a dove, they are redder than the coral that sways like a fan in the caves at the bottom of the ocean. But the blood in my veins froze from the winter cold, the frost broke my kidneys, and this year I will not have roses at all.

Only one red rose - that's all I ask, - exclaimed the Nightingale. - A single red rose! Do you know the way to get it?

I know, said the Rose Bush, but it is so terrible that I do not have the courage to open it to you.

Open it to me, - asked the Nightingale, - I'm not afraid.

If you want to get a red rose, - said the Rose Bush, - you must create it yourself from the sounds of a song in the moonlight, and you must stain it with the blood of your heart. You must sing to me with your chest against my thorn. All night long you must sing to me, and my thorn will pierce your heart, and your living blood will flow into my veins and become my blood.

Death is a dear price for a red rose, exclaimed the Nightingale. - Life is sweet to everyone! How good it is to sit in the forest and admire the sun in a golden chariot and the moon in a chariot of pearls. Sweet is the fragrance of the hawthorn, lovely are the bluebells in the valley, and the heather that blooms on the hills. But Love is more precious than Life, and the heart of some bird is nothing compared to the human heart!

And the Student was still lying in the grass where the Nightingale had left him, and the tears had not yet dried in his beautiful eyes.

Rejoice! the Nightingale called to him. - Rejoice, you will have a red rose. I will create it from the sounds of my song in the moonlight and stain it with the hot blood of my heart. As a reward, I ask you one thing: be true to your love, for, no matter how wise Philosophy, there is more Wisdom in Love than in Philosophy - and no matter how powerful the Power, Love is stronger than any Power. She has flame-colored wings, and her body is colored with flame. Her mouth is sweet as honey and her breath is like incense.

The student raised himself on his elbows and listened, but he did not understand what the Nightingale was telling him, for he knew only what was written in the books. And the Oak understood and was saddened, because he loved this little bird very much, which made a nest for itself in its branches.

Sing me your song for the last time,” he whispered. - I will miss you a lot when you are gone.

And the Nightingale began to sing to the Oak, and his singing was like the murmur of water pouring from a silver jug.

When the Nightingale had finished singing, the Student got up from the grass, took out a pencil and a notebook from his pocket, and said to himself, as he was heading home from the grove:

Yes, he is a master of form, it cannot be taken away from him. But does he have a feeling? I am afraid no. In essence, he is like most artists: a lot of virtuosity and not a drop of sincerity .. He will never sacrifice himself to another. He thinks only of music, and everyone knows that art is selfish.

And he went to his room, lay down on a narrow bed and began to think about his love; soon he fell asleep.

When the moon shone in the sky, the Nightingale flew to the Rose Bush, sat down on its branch and clung to its thorn. All night he sang, pressing his chest against the thorn, and the cold crystal moon listened, bowing her face. All night he sang, and the thorn pierced deeper and deeper into his chest, and warm blood oozed from it drop by drop. He sang about how love creeps into the heart of a boy and a girl. And on the Rose Bush, on the highest shoot, a magnificent rose began to bloom. Song after song, petal after petal. At first the rose was pale, like a light mist over the river, pale as the feet of dawn, and silvery, like the wings of dawn. The reflection of a rose in a silver mirror, the reflection of a rose in still water - that was the rose that blossomed on the upper shoot of the Bush.

And the Bush shouted to the Nightingale to press him even tighter to the thorn.

The Nightingale clung tighter and tighter to the thorn, and his song sounded louder and louder, for he sang about the birth of passion in the soul of a man and a girl.

And the petals of the rose were painted with a gentle blush, like the face of the groom when he kisses his bride on the lips. But the thorn had not yet penetrated into the heart of the Nightingale, and the heart of the rose remained white, for only the living blood of the nightingale's heart can stain the heart of the rose.

Again the Rose Bush called out to the Nightingale to press closer to the thorn.

Cling tight to me, dear Nightingale, otherwise the day will come before the rose turns red!

The nightingale clung even tighter to the thorn, and the point finally touched his heart, and a severe pain suddenly pierced his whole body. The pain became more and more painful, the song of the Nightingale was heard louder and louder, for he sang about Love that finds perfection in Death, about that Love that does not die in the grave.

And the magnificent rose became scarlet, like the morning dawn in the east. Her rim became scarlet, and her heart became scarlet like a ruby. And the Nightingale's voice grew weaker and weaker, and now his wings fluttered convulsively, and his eyes were clouded with mist.

Look! Kust exclaimed. - Rose turned red! But the Nightingale did not answer. He lay dead

in the tall grass, and he had a sharp thorn in his heart. At noon the Student opened the window and looked out into the garden.

Ah, what happiness! he exclaimed. - Here it is, a red rose. I have never seen such a beautiful rose in my life! She probably has some long Latin name.

And he leaned out of the window and plucked it. Then he took his hat and ran to the Professor, holding a rose in his hands. The professor's daughter was sitting at the door, winding blue silk on a spool.

You promised you would dance with me if I brought you a red rose! exclaimed the Student.

This is the reddest rose in the world. Pin her close to your heart in the evening, and when we dance, she will tell you how much I love you.

But the girl frowned.

I'm afraid this rose won't fit my toilet

She answered. “Besides, the chamberlain’s nephew sent me real stones, and everyone knows that stones are much more expensive than flowers.

How ungrateful you are! - the Student said bitterly and threw the rose on the ground.

Rose fell into a rut and was crushed by a cartwheel.

Ungrateful? the girl repeated. - Really, what a brute you are! And who are you, after all? I don't think you have such silver buckles to your shoes as the chamberlain's nephew has.

And she got up from her chair and went into the room.

What nonsense is this Love, - the Student reflected, returning home. - It doesn't even have half the usefulness that Logic has. She proves nothing, always promises the unrealizable and makes you believe in the impossible. It is surprisingly impractical, and since our age is a practical age, I would rather return to Philosophy and study Metaphysics.

And he returned to the room, pulled out a large dusty book and began to read it.

Questions and tasks for the fairy tale:

• What gives a person the ability to fall in love and love?
• Do you think the Student will ever change his mind about love?
• What would happen in the world if all people believed only in the sciences, and considered love an unnecessary and impractical thing?
• Do you agree with the words of the nightingale: “Love is more precious than Life, and the heart of some bird is nothing compared to the human heart!”?
• How did the Nightingale feel about love?
• What does the image of the nightingale symbolize in this tale?
• What does it mean to perform a feat in the name of love? Tell us about people who have accomplished a feat in the name of love.

Paperwork

In the fairy tale, very beautiful definitions of love are given. Write them down and then write your definition of love.

Scene "Dispute about love"

Divide the children into pairs. In a dialogue scene, one person convinces another that love is stupidity and a waste of time, and the other proves that without love a person cannot be happy.

Drawing "Light of love"

Ask the children to write down the Mary Braddon quote from the lesson caption and think about why love is often compared to light. Then the children draw an image of love in the form of some kind of light source, for example: candles, suns, stars, etc. An exhibition is made of children's drawings: "Symbol of love".

Homework

Find materials about the life of any scientist or philosopher who considered love for people the driving force of progress; write a story about this person and write down his statements about love.

For example: Mikhail Lomonosov, Albert Einstein, Pascal climbed, Nikolai Pirogov, Pythagoras, Aristotle, Cicero and others.

Homework

Children talk about the life of different scientists. A book is compiled from the children's work: "Scientists of Love".

TRUE WEALTH

Creative task "What is more expensive"

Ask the children to list everything without which people cannot exist, such as water, air, food, warmth, love, care, and so on. All of the above is written in two columns. In the first column - material concepts, in the second - non-material.

Divide the children into groups and ask them to choose one word from each column. Children must come up with two situations when something becomes true wealth for a person. After the representatives from the groups describe their situations, the teacher discusses with the children how to learn to appreciate this or that true wealth in their lives.

Questions and tasks for the conversation:

• Tell us how something simple and familiar has become the greatest wealth in the world for you.
• What kind of person can be called truly rich?
• What kind of person do you consider yourself: poor or rich? Would you like to get rich? If you found a treasure, what would you use it for?
• If you had to choose between wealth, health and beauty, which would you choose?
• What do you think is the greatest wealth of your country?

BARREL OF FRESH WATER

L. Green

The boat approached the shore. Exhausted by fourteen hours of rowing, Ritter and Klaus with difficulty pulled the boat with the front of the keel on the sand between the stones and firmly tied it to the stone so that the boat would not be carried away by the ebb. In front of them, behind a barrier of rocks and huge blocks of quartz piled up by an earthquake, lay a mountain range covered with eternal snow. Behind the horizon, under a dazzling blue, completely clear sky, the dormant ocean unfolded - water as smooth as blue glass.

The swollen, unshaven faces of the sailors twitched, their cloudy eyes shone feverishly. The lips were cracked, and blood was seeping from the cracks at the corners of the mouth. A bottle of water, given from a special supply by skipper Hutchinson, was drunk during the night.

The schooner Belfort, sailing from Caldero to Val Paraiso with a load of wool, was caught in a calm at a distance of fifty nautical miles from the coast. The supply of water was sufficient for several days of voyage with a tailwind, but very small in a prolonged calm. The ship had been on still water for eleven days; no matter how Hutchinson reduced the portions of water, it was enough for only a week. At night it was a little easier, but with the sunrise all six sailors of the schooner, Hutchinson and his assistant Revley, hardly got out of the water, holding on to the ropes thrown over the side in case of sharks. The thirst was so excruciating that they all stopped eating and were shaking with a fever, as many times a day they went from the coolness of an exhaustingly long bath to the skin-scorching heat.

All this happened through the fault of Hutchinson, who was waiting for the wind from day to day. If a boat had been sent ashore in time to bring a two-hundred-litre barrel of fresh water, the crew would not now wander like shadows, despondent and powerless. Ritter and Clauson were the most firm. They drank their daily quarter liter of water at night, after sunset, so that, having suffered a day, during which they relieved their suffering by bathing, in the evening, at least half, but quenched their thirst. Sailors who drank a portion of water during the day, as soon as they received it, soon lost this moisture, and Ritter and Clauson could still sleep at night, while others were tormented by insomnia, poisoned by visions of rivers and lakes.

By the evening of the tenth day, the team was overcome by despair. Old Hutchinson barely moved. The cook, dying of dysentery, lay among the sewage, rarely regaining consciousness and begging everyone to finish him off. Two sailors lay helplessly on their berths in wet clothes, so that at least a little moisture was absorbed through the skin. One sailor, secretly from Hutchinson, drank from time to time sea water mixed with vinegar; now, half-mad with incredible torment, he wandered along the side, wanting and not daring to commit suicide. The fourth sailor sucked a piece of skin from morning to evening to induce saliva. This sailor repeatedly molested the assistant skipper Volt, so that he announced a lot for the death of one of the crew for the sake of several liters of blood.

Only two people could still move - they were Ritter and Clauson. Hutchinson persuaded them to go ashore for water. From the last supply, they were given a bottle of muddy water. In the evening, Ritter and Clauson set out with a two-hundred-litre barrel, two guns, a pack of tobacco, and three kilos of biscuits. In the morning they landed on the shore with hearts dying from mad thirst ...

Staggering, falling from exhaustion, the sailors climbed over the barrier of huge stones and entered a deep cleft among the rocks, where in the shadow and dampness there was a lingering smell of water. Soon they heard the steady sound of a running water, and, almost blind from the desire to drink, they began to rush from side to side, not noticing the stream, which, ten paces in front of them, was washing the convex bottom of the rock. Finally Clauson saw the water. He ran up to the rock and, stretching out on his face, plunged his face into the cold stream. The more patient Ritter filled the bucket and sat down with it on the rocks, placing the bucket between his knees.

Klaus, choking, swallowed water, not noticing that he was crying from relief, combined with nausea, because the stomach, having weaned from a large amount of cold liquid, resisted at first an exorbitant amount of water. Clauson vomited twice as he finally filled his stomach with water. It seemed to him, despite this, that his thirst had not yet been quenched. Taking a breath, the sailor, rising above the water on his hands, stared blankly at her, and then, sighing blissfully, fell back to the saving source.

With the same convulsions, suffering and blissful, Ritter got drunk. He drank more than half a bucket. His strong stomach returned nothing to the stream. The water affected the sufferers like wine. Their senses were extremely sharpened, their hearts were beating loudly and quickly, their heads were on fire.

That's the thing! cried Clauson. - I never thought I'd survive! I started going crazy.

Go-go, - shouted Ritter. - Wow, good! The water is real! Wait brothers. You will have a barrel of water! By the evening we will come, we just need to sleep.

Thirst was not so soon finally quenched by them, as one might think. It's not just about filling your stomach with water. Time must pass before moisture penetrates the blood vessels through the internal pathways of the body and there it dilutes the blood that has thickened from a long lack of water. Clauson tried several more times to drink, but Ritter restrained him.

You can die, he said. - Not long and get drunk. You will swell up and turn black. Refrain. Let's lie down, sleep better.

While they slept, the sun moved to the other side of the gorge and illuminated a gold nugget embedded high in the sheer surface of the rock, resembling a knot of golden roots, protruding from quartz. The gold seemed to flash under the burning ray of the sun. The nugget, dormant for a thousand years over an unknown stream, sowed its soft light like a whirling of fine, golden dust.

Waking up, the sailors were strong and alive, as many days ago. They ate, drank again, and pretty soon filled the barrel in the boat with the water of the stream. Having come to the stream for the last time, in order to grab, in addition to the barrel, two more full buckets of water, the sailors sat down on the stones. Both were wet with sweat. Wiping his forehead with his hand, the heated Clauson raised his head and surveyed the heights of sheer cliffs.

Seeing the nugget, at first he could not believe his eyes. Clauson got up, took a step towards the rock, looked round anxiously. A minute later he asked Ritter:

Do you see anything on the rock?

Yes, I see, - said Ritter, - I see, to my horror, gold, which will not help our team to escape. And if you remember your torment, you will no longer think about it. We must bring them water, bring them life.

Clauson just sighed. He remembered his torments, and he did not contradict.

The boat headed towards the ship.

Questions and tasks for the story;

• How can a person retain moisture in the body for a long time under extreme conditions?
• Why couldn't the sailors take both water and gold with them? What would you do in their place?
• Have there been times in your life when you were without water or food for a long time. What did you feel when you quenched your thirst or hunger? How has your relationship to water or food changed since then?
• Think up and tell how you can quench your thirst if you are in the forest (sea, desert, among the rocks) and you have no water.
• What food should I take on a trip so that they can help in case of lack of water?

Scene "When we appreciate simple things"

Divide the children into pairs. One person from a couple proves that only in extreme situations can one appreciate such things as water, light, food, warmth; and the other - convinces him that in everyday life a person should appreciate that without which it is impossible to exist.

Read the story:

SHELL OF ABUNDANCE

German legend

The North Sea has not always had as many fish as it does now. There was a time when it was impossible to catch a single fish there, because a long time ago animals, fish, and people lived differently. Then the fish of some sea lived only in it, and the animals did not go further than the edge of their forest. Therefore, the fishermen fished and fished and finally caught all the fish in the North Sea. People began to think and wonder what they should do now: after all, the inhabitants of the coast only fed on fish.

Fortunately, there lived at that time a young and strong fisherman named Hans. His eyes were blue and deep, like a clear calm sea, and his hair was golden like the rye straw that covers the roofs of houses in those parts. But most importantly, a generous heart beat in Hans's chest, full of love for all people. He could not calmly watch how adults suffer and children starve. One fine day, Hans got ready and went to the oldest fisherman on the coast. He not only lived for many years, but also swam in many seas, and therefore much was revealed to him. When Hans came to him, he was basking in the sun at the threshold of his hut.

What, grandfather, needs to be done so that there are fish in our sea again? Hans asked after greeting.

Only the queen of the seas can help, son. Pouring she has power over all marine inhabitants and can give us fish and abundance.

And how to get to it?

Getting to the queen of the seas is very difficult. It is necessary to break through storms and hurricanes to the middle of the sea and call her. But you only have to waver, and the queen will not respond to the call, otherwise she will take and destroy you.

I have nothing to lose! Hans said firmly, thanking the old man for his advice, and, burning with impatience, ran along the sand dunes to the reeds, where his boat had long been idle.

The young man pushed her into the water and sat on the oars. He rowed for a long time without a break. Waves surged towards him. They got higher and higher, played with the boat like a piece of wood, now tossing it on the foamy crests, now throwing it deep into the abyss, as if they were going to drag it to the very bottom. The walls of water were so high that every time it seemed to the young man, as if he had fallen into a bottomless well - only an insignificant patch of blue sky glittered above his head. But the heart of the young fisherman never trembled. So he rowed all day and all night. The waves gradually decreased, subsided, and by morning they completely disappeared. The water became calm, and Hans guessed that he had reached the middle of the sea: after all, excitement always begins in the middle of the sea and increases closer to the shores, and here eternal peace reigns.

Hans leaned over the side and shouted:

Show yourself, queen of the seas, the fisherman Hans is calling you!

The motionless greenish expanse slightly rippled, stirred, and a wondrous beauty with a golden crown on her head appeared from the water.

You, Hans, are a fearless young man, and I am ready to fulfill your every wish,” she said.

I have only one wish,” said the young fisherman with a bow. Send fish to our sea. Not a single fish remained there, and the inhabitants of the coast have nothing to trade. The children are starving.

Fulfilling your wish is easy. Wait!

And the queen disappeared into the depths of the sea. After a while, she surfaced near the boat itself. In her hands, a large white shell gleamed like mother-of-pearl. The queen gave it to Hans with the words:

It is a shell of abundance. My fish herds flock to it. It is enough to put it in the net, and you will catch all the fish in the sea. But this can only be done three times. On the fourth time, it will fall apart into thousands of pieces and lose its magical properties. Remember that today it was pulled out for the first time ...

Oh, thank you from the bottom of my heart! - exclaimed Hans. - I will not forget your instructions ...

Happy sailing and successful fishing! - The Queen of the Seas waved her hand and disappeared into the waves.

The young fisherman admired the white shell, then carefully placed it in the bottom of the boat and took up the oars. He rowed to his native shores, and all the time shoals of fish hurried to the boat, as if enchanted, from everywhere.

Well, thought Hans, I can certainly catch all the fish in the sea, sell them, and become the richest man. But this can be repeated only twice, on the third - the shell will fall apart, and the sea will again be left without fish. What should I do? However, he did not think long. The closer he swam to his native shores, the louder and more insistently the voice sounded in his heart: “If the shell of abundance disintegrates, the fish will disappear forever!”

And here at the pit, where the local fishermen went to fish, Hans picked up a large white shell and stood up. He looked at the shell for a long time, as if he wanted to remember it for the rest of his life, then he leaned over the side and lowered it into the sea. She quickly began to sink into the water and soon sank to the bottom. Schools of fish stretched out into the sea, and Hans hurried home to call his comrades to fish. Since then, fish has always been found in abundance in the North Sea.

Questions and tasks for the fairy tale:

• Do you think Hans became richer or poorer after parting with the shell, and why?
• What is the greatest wealth in the world for you? Tell us, without what earthly riches a person cannot exist.
• What is the spiritual wealth of man? Tell us about people you consider spiritually rich.

Paperwork

Divide the sheet into two halves. On one half, write the best that you have, and on the other, write the best that you have. Compare both lists.

Read the story:

ABOUT THE KING AND HIS SON

Georgian fairy tale

There lived a great king. How old he was, and it was time for him to die, he called his only son and heir and said:

My son, you see for yourself - with one foot I am already in the grave, not today or tomorrow I will die, and you will remain alone, and the whole kingdom will be in your hands. Go, set yourself up wherever you find necessary, a safe house, so that in grief or need you can find shelter for yourself.

The son of his father obeyed and immediately went to fulfill his order. He took with him more money, goes around the whole kingdom and, wherever he likes a place - whether it be a mountain, a valley, a village or a wild forest, he builds beautiful palaces for himself.

He erected so many palaces and returned home satisfied. His father called him and asked:

What, son, did you set yourself a house at my word, will you have somewhere to hide in a difficult moment?

Yes, father! - says the son. - Wherever I liked the place - in the mountains or in the valley - I put beautiful palaces.

Woe to you, my son, - says the father, - you did not build the houses that I told you about. Empty palaces, son, will not hide from trouble. I asked you: throughout the kingdom, find honest and faithful people, love them, make friends with them. They will give you a safe haven in difficult times. Know: where a person has a true friend, there is a home and shelter for him.

Questions and tasks for the fairy tale:

• What do you think is easier: building a house or finding a reliable friend for life?
• The king compared friendship to a safe haven, what would you compare true friendship to?
• Is there a person in your life who makes you feel like you are in a warm, cozy home?

The game "Who has what wealth"

Divide the children into two groups. Members of one group distribute among themselves the members of another group. Then the children write on pieces of paper that in the life of the person they got is true wealth. After that, everyone gives his piece of paper to the one about whom he wrote. At the end of the game, the children discuss with the teacher which of them agrees or, conversely, disagrees with what classmates wrote about them, and how to find out what is true wealth for a particular person.

Homework

Think and write what is true wealth in your family.

Homework

Using the children's homework, the teacher makes a general list of family wealth; and then discusses with the children which of these riches they would like to have in their families, and why. A book is glued from the works of children: "Family Wealth"

POWER OF LOVE

One day you will understand
that love heals everything
and love is all there is in the world.

The driver sits on a chair and is blindfolded. Someone comes up, gently touches him and whispers something nice to him, trying not to be recognized. The task of the driver is to recognize the person who approached him. Then the game is repeated. At the end, the teacher asks the children what they experienced during the game.

Questions and tasks for the conversation:

• Why is love power? Do you agree with this?
• What happens in life through the power of love?
• Do you love life, and what do you love most in life?
• Have there been times in your life when you didn't love life, and why? How would you help a desperate person feel the love of life?
• Tell us about any book (film, work of art) that teaches a person about love.

A. Green

The blind man lay quietly, arms folded across his chest and smiling. He smiled unconsciously. He was ordered not to move, in any case, to make movements only in cases of strict necessity. So he lay for the third day with a bandage over his eyes. But his state of mind, despite that faint, frozen smile, was that of a condemned man, waiting for mercy. From time to time the possibility of starting to live again, balancing himself in the bright space with the mysterious work of the pupils, appearing suddenly clear, excited him so much that he twitched all over, as in a dream.

Protecting Rabid's nerves, the professor did not tell him that the operation was a success, that he would certainly become sighted again. Any ten thousandth chance could turn everything into a tragedy. Therefore, saying goodbye, the professor told Rabid every day: “Be calm. Everything has been done for you, the rest will follow.”

In the midst of tormenting tension, waiting and all sorts of assumptions, Rabid heard the voice of Daisy Garan coming up to him. It was a girl who served in the clinic. Often, in difficult moments, Rabid asked her to put her hand on his forehead, and now he expected with pleasure that this small, friendly hand would lightly cling to his head, which was numb from immobility. And so it happened.

When she took her hand away, he, who had looked inside himself for so long and learned to accurately understand the movements of his heart, realized once again that his main fear of late had been the fear of never seeing Daisy. Even when they brought him here, and he heard a swift female voice in charge of the patient's device, a gratifying sensation stirred in him of a gentle and slender being, drawn by the sound of this voice. It was the warm, merry and soulful sound of young life, rich in melodious nuances as clear as a warm morning.

Gradually, her image clearly arose in him, arbitrary, like all our ideas about the invisible, but necessary for him. Talking for three weeks only with her, submitting to her easy and persistent care, Rabid knew that he had begun to love her from the first days, now to recover was his goal for her sake. He thought that she treated him with deep sympathy, favorable for the future. Blind, he did not consider himself entitled to ask these questions, postponing their decision until the time when both of them looked into each other's eyes. And he did not know at all that this girl, whose voice made him so happy, was thinking about his recovery with fear and sadness, because she was ugly. Her feeling for him arose out of loneliness, the consciousness of her influence over him, and out of a consciousness of security. He was blind, and she could calmly look at herself with his inner idea of ​​her, which he expressed not in words, but in his whole attitude - and she knew that he loved her.

Before the operation, they talked for a long time and a lot. Rabid told her his wanderings, she - about everything that is happening in the world now. And the line of her conversation was full of the same charming softness as her voice. As they parted, they thought of something else to say to each other. Her last words were:

Goodbye, for now.

For now…” answered Rabid, and it seemed to him that there was hope in “for now”.

He was straight, young, bold, playful, tall and black-haired. He should have had - if he had - black, shining eyes with a stare. Imagining this look, Daisy moved away from the mirror with fear in her eyes. And her sickly, irregular face was covered with a gentle blush.

What will happen? she said. - Well, let this good month come to an end. But open his prison, Professor Rebalad, please!

When the hour of trial came and the light was established, with which at first Rabid's weak gaze could fight, the professor and his assistant, and with them several other people of the learned world, surrounded Rabid.

Daisy! he said, thinking she was there and hoping to be the first to see her. But she was not there precisely because at that moment she did not find the strength to see, to feel the excitement of a person whose fate was decided by removing the bandage. She stood in the middle of the room as if spellbound, listening to voices and footsteps. By an involuntary effort of the imagination, overshadowing us in moments of heavy sighs, she saw herself somewhere in another world, another, which she would like to appear to a newborn look, she sighed and resigned herself to fate.

Meanwhile, the bandage was removed. Continuing to feel her disappearance, pressure, Rabid lay in sharp and blissful doubts. His pulse dropped.

The deed is done,” said the professor, his voice trembling with excitement. - Look, open your eyes!

Rabid raised his eyelids, still thinking that Daisy was there, and ashamed to call her again. A curtain hung in folds in front of his face.

Remove the matter, he said, it interferes. And, having said this, he realized that he had seen the light that the folds of matter, hung as if on the very face, were a window curtain at the far end of the room.

His chest began to convulsively heave, and he, not noticing the sobs that uncontrollably shook his entire emaciated, stale body, began to look around, as if reading a book. Object after object passed before him in the light of his rapture, and he saw the door, and instantly fell in love with it, for that was what the Door looked like through which Daisy passed. Smiling blissfully, he took a glass from the table, his hand trembled, and, almost without mistake, he put it back in its original place.

Now he was impatiently waiting for all the people who had restored his sight to leave, in order to call Daisy and, with the right to receive the ability to fight for life, tell her all his main things. But a few more minutes passed of a solemn, excited, learned conversation in an undertone, during which he had to answer how he felt and how he saw ...

Having learned that the operation had been a brilliant success, Daisy returned to her room, breathing the purity of loneliness, and, with tears in her eyes, with the meek courage of the last one who crossed out all meetings, dressed in a pretty summer dress. She cleaned her thick hair simply - just so that nothing could be done better with this dark, with a damp sheen wave, and with her face open to everything, naturally raising her head, she went out with a smile on her face and an execution in her soul to the doors, behind which everyone it had changed so much, it even seemed to her that it was not Rabid who was lying there, but someone completely different ...

Touching the door, she hesitated and opened it, almost wishing everything was as it was. Rabid lay with his head towards her, looking for her behind him with his eyes in an energetic turn of his face. She passed and stopped.

Who you are? Rabid asked smiling.

Really, I'm like a new being for you? “** she said, instantly returning to him with the sounds of her voice all their short, hidden from each other past.

In his black eyes, she saw undisguised, complete joy, and suffering let her go. No miracle happened, but all her inner world, all her love, fears, pride and desperate thoughts and all the excitement of the last minute were expressed in such a smile of her blush-filled face that all of her, with her slender figure, seemed to Rabid the sound of a string entwined with flowers. She was good in the light of love.

Now, only now, - said Rabid, - I raised why you have such a voice that I liked to hear it even in my sleep. Now, even if you go blind, I will love you and this will cure you. Pardon me. I'm a little crazy because I'm resurrected.

At that moment, his dark-born idea of ​​her was and remained the way she did not expect.

Questions and tasks for the story:

• Why did Daisy's appearance seem beautiful to the young man?
• Does appearance matter if you truly love someone?
• Why do you think people are sometimes ashamed of their appearance?
• If you fall in love with someone, do you immediately confess your love or after a while?
• Have there been times in your life when someone's love helped you get well?
• Tell me about a person whose love has had a big impact on you.
• Do you think everyone should be loved? Are there people on earth who are not worthy of love?

Drawing "Eyes of lovers"

Draw the eyes of a man in love.

We compose a fairy tale "The birth of love"

Where do you think love came from? Write a story about her birth on earth.

Scene "Let's get to know each other"

Divide the children into pairs so that each pair has a boy and a girl. Children should ask each other such questions in a dialogue scene and answer them in such a way that each other's inner world becomes more understandable to them, for example:

• What is the most important thing for you in life?
• What do you value most in people?
• What do you want to do in life? etc.

Homework

Children write down Gary Zukawa's quote from the epigraph to the lesson. Have the children find and write down poems or prose passages about love. Children can compose or learn love songs, pick up reproductions of paintings dedicated to love.

Homework

Invite the children to organize a love evening where they read poems and prose passages, tell fairy tales, sing songs, and perform skits. Then all the children's work is collected in a book:

"Love Talk".

HOW TO BECOME HAPPY

Only those people who are truly happy
who have found for themselves a person or a business in life,
to love him and belong to him undividedly,

John Powell

Creative task "What is happiness"

The teacher asks the children to list who or what can be happy, for example: a child, family, future, day, circumstance, laughter, home, etc. All of the above is written on the board. Children are divided into groups and choose one of the items written on the board. Each group should talk about what kind of child can be called happy, describe a happy laugh, talk about a happy day, etc. Children can give examples from life or literature.

Then the teacher discusses with the children what a person needs to be happy.

Questions and tasks for the conversation:

• Do you think there can be any one common happiness for all people on earth?
• Do you agree with the idea that man is created for happiness, and why?
• Can a person be always happy?
• Does a fulfilled desire always bring happiness to a person?
• Can happiness heal a person?
• Have you ever experienced happiness while listening to music?
• Why do people sometimes cry from happiness and joy?

Read a fairy tale

SUNBEAM STORIES

G. Andersen

Now I'll start! the wind said.

No, let me! - said the rain. - Now it's my turn! Quite you stood on the corner and howled at the top of your lungs!

So, thank you for the fact that in honor of you I twisted and broke the umbrellas of those gentlemen who did not want to do business with you!

Word for me! Sunbeam said. - Quietly!

And it was said with such brilliance and grandeur that the wind immediately stretched out to its full length. But the rain still did not want to let up, the wind tossed and said:

Are we going to put up with it? He will always break through, this gentleman! Let's not listen to him! Here's another, much needed!

And the sunbeam began:

A swan flew over the stormy sea; his feathers shone like gold; one feather fell out and fell on a large merchant ship, which was gliding across the sea in full sail. The quill got tangled in the curly hair of a young man, a goods overseer. The feather of the bird of happiness touched his pen, turned into a writing pen in his hand, and he soon became a rich merchant who did not have to buy gold spurs for himself, exchange a barrel of gold for a noble shield. I myself sparkled with this shield! added a ray of sunshine.

The swan also flew over the green meadow; in the shade of an old lonely tree lay a shepherd boy, a seven-year-old boy, and looked at his sheep. The swan kissed on the fly one of the leaves of the tree, the leaf fell into the hand of the shepherdess, and from one leaf three, ten, a whole book became! The boy read in it about the wonders of nature, about his native language, about faith and knowledge, and going to bed, he hid it under his head so as not to forget what he had read. And that book led him first to the school bench, and then to the department of science. I read his name among the names of scientists! - added a sunbeam.

The swan flew into the thicket of the forest and went down to rest on a quiet, dark forest lake overgrown with water lilies; reeds and forest apple trees grew on the shore, and in their branches the cuckoo cuckooed, wood pigeons cooed.

The poor woman gathered firewood here; she had a whole bundle on her back, and a small child lay at her breast. He saw a golden swan, a swan of happiness, which flew out of the reeds. But what is it that glitters there? Golden Egg! The woman put it in her bosom, and the egg warmed up, a living being stirred in it. It was already beating its nose into the shell, and the woman thought that it was her own heart beating.

Arriving home, in her poor hut, she took out a golden egg. "Tick-tock!" - it was heard from him, as if the egg was a golden watch, but it was a real egg, and life was beating in it. Here the shell cracked, and a small swan covered with golden fluff stuck out its head from the egg. On his neck he had four gold rings, and since the woman had three more sons besides the one who was with her in the forest, she immediately guessed that these rings were intended for her children. As soon as she took off the rings - the golden chick flew away.

The woman kissed the rings, gave each child their own ring to kiss, placed them on each heart, and then put them on the children's fingers.

I saw it all! added a ray of sunshine. - I saw what came of it.

One of the boys dug in a ditch, took a lump of clay, began to crush it between his fingers, and a statue of Jason came out, who had obtained the golden fleece.

Another boy immediately ran to the meadow, overgrown with wonderful, colorful flowers, picked up a whole handful of flowers there, squeezed them tightly in his hand, and the flower juices splashed right into his eyes, soaked his golden ring ... Something stirred in the boy’s brain, and in hands, too, and a few years later in the big city they started talking about a new great painter.

The third boy clenched his ring so tightly with his teeth that it made a sound, an echo of what was hidden in the boy’s heart, and since then his feelings and thoughts began to pour out in sounds, rise to the sky, like singing swans, plunge into the abyss of thought, like swans dive into deep lakes. The boy became a composer; each country can claim it as their own.

The fourth boy was a slobber, and, as they said, a pip sat on his tongue; he had to be treated with oil and pepper, and with good beatings, well, they treated him! I gave him my sunny kiss! Sunbeam said. - Yes, and not one, but ten! The boy was of a poetic nature, and he was either given kisses or treated to clicks, but he still owned the ring of happiness given to him by a golden swan, and his thoughts flew up to the sky with golden butterflies, and the butterfly is a symbol of immortality!

Long story! the wind said.

And boring! added rain. - Blow on me, I can not come to my senses!

And the wind began to blow, and the sunbeam continued:

The swan of happiness also flew over the deep bay where the fishermen cast their nets. The poorest of the fishermen was about to get married. The swan brought him a piece of amber. Amber attracts, and this piece drew hearts to the fisherman's house. Amber is the most wonderful fragrant incense, and a fragrance began to emanate from the fisherman's house, as from a temple; it was the fragrance of nature itself! The poor couple enjoyed family happiness, and her whole life passed like one sunny day!

Isn't it time to stop it! the wind said. He's talked enough! I missed you!

And me too! - said the rain.

And what do we say after listening to these stories? We'll say:

Well, that's the end of them!

Questions and tasks for the fairy tale:

• Why did rain and wind still give way to a ray of sunshine?
• Do you think the sunbeam stories could actually end?
• Who do you think sent a magical swan to earth to bring happiness to people?
• What was the happiness of each of the people gifted with a swan?
• If a person has been given creative abilities since childhood, does this mean that he will be happy? What does it take to make him happy?

Drawing "Swan of happiness"

Children write down a quote: “Happiness is a ray of sunshine that can pierce hundreds of hearts without losing a single particle of its original strength ...” (Jane Porter)

Have the children draw a sunbeam, a swan, or any other image that can remind a person of happiness. Present the drawing to your close friend with the wishes of happiness.

We compose a fairy tale "Save happiness"

Choose one of the heroes of the fairy tale and write a story about how this person will manage his happiness and whether he can keep it for life. Children's stories are collected in a book: "Tales of Happiness"

Read the story:

HAPPINESS

N. Wagner

On the seashore, in a squalid shack, lived a father and two sons. The elder's name was Jacques. He was tall and black-haired. The youngest was named Paul. Together with their father, they caught fish in the sea with an old big net and sold it to merchants. The elder was thoughtful and silent. Often in the evenings he sat on the shore, on the sea cliffs, and looked at the sea for a long time. He looked at the big ships leaving for the open sea, and he longed to sail on these ships far away, where the clouds sank into the sea, to distant lands, about which he had heard so many wonderful stories.

And Pavel was a cheerful fellow; he almost always smiled affably at everyone - he sang cheerful songs or played the pipe, which one of the visiting merchants presented to him.

Once a storm overtook them on a boat, and the waves threw everyone ashore, while the old father was badly hurt on a rock. He was ill for a long time and finally died. Dying, he said to them:

Thank you for not leaving and feeding me, an old man, with your labors. After my death, you have nothing more to live here, in poverty and to get miserable food with hard work. Here's my great-grandmother's ring. Take this ring, and when you come to some city or village, roll it in front of you. If the ring wraps up and rolls to your feet, then pass by and move on. If the ring turns around and stops near some house, then in this house one of you will find his happiness. And the other ... - But what will happen to the other, the old man did not finish. He turned to the wall and died.

The brothers buried their father, sold the hut, the boat, the old net and went to seek their fortune. They passed through many cities and villages, and everywhere they tried to see if the ring would tell them to stop here. But the ring spun and rolled under their feet. Finally, they came to one large village. The brothers entered the village and rolled the ring. It rolled for a long time, and they followed it. Finally, it stopped near a large house with a front garden and a large garden with old lindens, pears and apple trees, on which there were many such ruddy, tasty apples. At the garden gate stood a girl who herself looked like a ruddy apple. The girl picked up the ring, which rolled up to her feet, gave it to her younger brother and asked: what do the brothers need?

Good luck, said Paul.

The girl laughed and ran away, and the brothers entered the house. They were met by a little old woman in a large white cap.

BUT! - she said. - You probably came to be hired as workers? Come in here, Mr. Varloo is there, - and she opened the door for them to a large room with lattice windows, and in the middle of the room stood a tall gray-haired old man, with the same kindly ruddy face and with the same dimples on his cheeks as the girl they saw at the gate.

Aha! - said Mr. Varloo, - you are welcome, welcome! Wow! Yes, both of you are good, but healthy. Well! sit down, sit down, you must be very tired, - and he shook hands with them and seated them on oak chairs with high backs.

And under the conditions we will get along, we will certainly get along, ”he began, when they sat down. And he made the terms. For work on the farm and in the garden, in addition to wages, workers were to receive an apartment and maintenance. And the brothers agreed to work for this pay.

And the brothers began to live near the city of Varloo. In the morning they worked on the farm, which was two miles from the house, at noon they returned and sat down to dine on the large terrace in the garden, along with the owners.

On holidays and Sunday mornings, everyone went to church. There the pastor said that life is a blessing that God gives to all living, and the one who is kind, everyone loves him and he is happy, because everyone loves him.

Is life really happiness? Pavel sometimes thought. However, he rarely thought, but rather looked into the eyes of Mamselle Lila, the owner's daughter, the same girl whom the brothers had met at the gate, and it seemed to him that there, in those dark blue eyes, lay his happiness. He looked at them so often and for so long that Lila involuntarily turned away, while Pavel blushed and smiled.

Once, when he was about to go to the party, Leela said:

Mr. Paul, you never wear a hat with ribbons, let me give you one ribbon for your hat. And she tied a long, pink ribbon around his hat. He went to the holiday so cheerfully, the wind rustled the ends of the ribbon, and they whispered in his ear: you will be happy, you will be happy!

Another time, in autumn, when they were picking apples in the garden, Lila gave him a ruddy apple and said:

Mr. Paul, I would like this apple to bring you happiness. Eat it for the health of the one you love.

He brought the apple into his room and put it under his pillow, and when everyone in the house was asleep, he took it out, looked at it for a long time, kissed it and said:

Dear apple, I will eat you for the health of that dear girl who is dearer to me than anything in the world! ..

Yes! - said the apple, - your lip is not a fool, and you will eat me lovingly for the health of Mamselle Lila, but first you take a spade and let's go into the garden, where two old lindens grow, throw me up there, and where I will fall, here dig the earth and maybe you will find something that will bring you happiness.

Pavel took an apple and a spade and went into the garden. Pavel threw the apple up, and it fell right between two lindens. Then he began to dig the earth and dug out a small chest bound with copper, which was filled with old Dutch chervonets ...

The next day the brothers bought a rich farm, and a few days later Pavel said to Mr. Varloo:

I am now rich, Mr. Warloo, I have a big farm. But I'll be the most miserable person if you don't give Mamzel Lila for me!

Aha! - said Mr. Varloo, - you want to take the best apple from my garden. Well, you are a kind and honest fellow, you will be happy, I vouch for this, just what will Mamzel Lila say to this?

Oh! Mamzel Leela! - Pavel said, going up to her, - I noticed a long time ago that my happiness lies in your eyes. Give it to me and I'll be the happiest man in the whole world...

Lila held out her hand to him, and she hid her face in her mother's chest. And what a merry wedding of Pavel and Lila was! The whole village congratulated the young people.

And ran day after day, today, like yesterday. Time passed, not much and not enough - a whole year, Lila already had little Pavel, with the same pits on his cheeks as big Pavel. In addition, Lila had a favorite - a large motley cow Mimi, with black intelligent eyes. There was also a white goat with long hair and a blue ribbon around its neck - Bibi. There was a gray cat Fanny with smooth velvet fur. When little Pavel was born, at the same time and on the same day, Mimi had a little red heifer, Bibi had a pretty little white goat, and Fanny the cat had six little beaded kittens with a white spot on the neck. All this made everyone happy.

Only Jacques was not happy about anything. He always walked alone, gloomy and thoughtful. When everyone was having fun at common family holidays, he would go far and return home late at night.

Listen, my dear brother, my dear Jacques, - Pavel told him, - why are you not cheerful, why don't you want to be happy, like me?

No, - answered Jacques, - I will not be happy like you, never, never! Many people live lives like you and they are as happy as Mimi, Bibi and Fanny are. But if everything stopped at this happiness, then the whole world would long ago have turned into Mimi, Bibi and Fanny. Only this has never happened and will never happen, because every person has moments when he is drawn somewhere far away, to a new life, and it is good for those who follow this mighty voice, who will not drown it out in themselves and will not fall asleep. on the little things of life.

And he went into the deep forest; there, around him, old hundred-year-old oaks grew and rustled with thick leaves.

What are they making noise about, Jacques thought, and what kind of power is in them? A man cuts down a tree, kills it, but never knows what and how it lived!

And all around there was silence, only the tall oaks rustled with their tops, and his heart was beating, and he heard it as if it were pronouncing the same word: forward, forward, forward! And his thoughts ran and streamed in his head like shadows on the grass, and the dark night had long since descended on the grass and the forest.

Darkness, eternal darkness! whispered Jacques, and tears welled up in his eyes, tears of impotence.

God, he said, where is the light?

And at times it seemed to him that suddenly there, in a distant clearing, a bright white light flashed through the branches and illuminated the whole clearing and trees. All frightened, overjoyed, he ran to this clearing, he heard how strongly his heart beat in his chest and uttered with some kind of pain: forward, forward, forward! But as soon as he ran to the clearing, the light quickly disappeared or went into the forest and drowned in the fog over the swamp.

He gazed up at the sky with heavy anguish. A full month sailed there and seemed to be asking him: what do you need?

Oh, I need to fly to you and see what is happening on you, then fly to these bright stars that twinkle so high, and tell people everything about everything so that everything becomes as bright and clear for them as you are bright, bright month!

Finally, Jacques could not stand it. He took some of the money Pavel had found, said goodbye to Lila and everyone, and set off on his journey.

Oh, why are you leaving us, Mr. Jacques, - everyone said to him, - we all love you so much, and we live so well! .. What do you lack in life? And aren't you ashamed to look for some kind of chimera? ..

But Jacques did not listen to any arguments and exhortations. He put on his knapsack, took his long stick and left the village ... Passing through the villages and cities, he took off the ring that brought happiness to Pavel from his finger and rolled it along the road, as his father bequeathed to him, but the ring constantly rolled forward and, without turning anywhere, directly fell on the road.

It can be seen that my happiness is on the way! said Jacques, smiling, and merrily walked forward.

He stayed and lived in big cities, where there were big schools, many scientists and even more books of all kinds. He read a lot, learned a lot, and along with knowledge, quiet joy and a bright world descended into his heart.

He made many different discoveries and traveled a lot. He was beyond the seas, in those distant wonderful countries that he dreamed about, sitting on the rocks of the sea, when he was a poor, dark fisherman. He endured many labors and hardships, but all these hard labors yielded a rich harvest, and he was happy with the fruits of these labors.

I did little, - he said, - on this long journey, but still, I at least moved people there, into this mysterious world, to the eternal stars that twinkle so inaccessibly above our heads in inaccessible beauty! ..

Finally, he reached a ripe old age. Almost everyone knew and respected him in the big city where he lived. Once he was sitting in front of the open window, behind a large book. He sat and thought for a long time about unsolved mysteries, about the future happiness of people. And suddenly! .. Yes, everyone clearly saw it through the window - some special light flashed in front of him, but what he saw in this light - no one knew, because when the servants came, he was no longer in alive. He sat quietly and seemed to be smiling in his sleep with a smile of profound happiness.

Questions and tasks for the fairy tale:

• Which of the two brothers do you think is happier?
• If a person is drawn somewhere by his inner voice, should he always follow it?
• What made Jacques different from other people?
• Why are there always fewer people like Jacques on earth?
• Which of the two brothers would you like to be friends with, and why?
• Who do you look more like: Jacques or Paul?
• Imagine that you have a son and he looks like Jacques. If one day he decides to go in search of happiness, what will you say to him in parting words?
• Why do you think Jacques never started a family?
• What do you think, what kind of light flashed before Jacques at the end of his life?

Scene "How to be happy"

Ask the children to write on a piece of paper, without signing them, any wishes that, if fulfilled, will bring them happiness. The teacher collects the papers and puts them in a box. Then the children are divided into pairs and take one piece of paper from the box. One of the couple is Paul and the other is Jacques. Everyone must tell how, from his point of view, it is possible to achieve the fulfillment of a particular desire, and prove his case with examples from life or literature.

Paperwork

People often use various proverbs about happiness: do not be born beautiful, but be born happy; money can not buy happiness; there was no happiness but misfortune helped. Write how you understand these proverbs and the wisdom of which one you have experienced in your experience.

Quest for ladies

Children write down a quote from John Powell from the epigraph to the lesson. Ask the children to write down some rules for themselves and each member of their family that will help everyone be happier.

Homework

Discuss with the children what needs to be done to make the happiness rules they have made come true.

BE RESPONSIBLE

Each person is responsible to all people,
for all people and for everything

Fedor Dostoevsky

Creative task "King and Ministers"

Children are divided into groups and receive cards with any state problems, for example:

• An influenza epidemic broke out in the state;
• The birth rate has decreased in the state;
• The neighbors declared a war of conquest;
• A drought began in the state, and so on.

In each group, one person is the king, the rest are ministers. The ministers take turns expressing their opinion to the king on a particular issue. After listening to all the ministers, the king must come to a decision. Then the "kings" from each group talk about their decisions to the rest of the groups. After the game, the teacher discusses with the children which decisions of the kings were the most responsible, and why.

Questions and tasks for the conversation:

• Parents are responsible for their children. Should children be responsible for their parents, and from what age?
• Do you feel responsible for anyone?
• Who do you think is responsible for everything that happens in the state (world, family, school)?
• What does it mean to be responsible for yourself?
• Should educators be held accountable for the behavior of their students after they have left school?
• Should doctors be responsible for the health of their patients after they have separated?

Read the story:

PEASANT KING

A. Neelova

One king, who had neither children nor relatives, bequeathed that after his death the first person to enter the city gates should be enthroned. Fate would have it that this man turned out to be a simple peasant who accidentally came to the city on his own business. A crowd of courtiers surrounded the lucky man and led him to the palace. There they put on him a crown and purple, girded him with a sword and gave him a scepter. The peasant looked at himself in the mirror and thought: “Not bad!”

Then, to the sounds of the timpani, he was escorted into a magnificent hall, seated on the throne and swore allegiance to him: “Very well!” thought the peasant.

From the throne room, everyone went to the dining room, where a sumptuous dinner and the finest wines were served. “This is the best!” the peasant decided to himself.

The next day it was necessary to take up state affairs. Our king was still sleeping soundly, and the ministers had already gathered in the palace. As soon as he opened his eyes, he was informed that the ministers and officials of the State Council were asking for an audience with him.

The king got dressed and began to receive speakers. One of them proposed projects to improve the state system, the other pointed out the lack of finances and the need to raise state revenues without increasing taxes: the third reported on the petitions of subjects with complaints about various violations of their rights. These reports dragged on for a long time, and everything had to be decided one way or another. The new king, a kind man by nature and not stupid, did everything in his power to resolve matters as correctly as possible. In the end, he was so tired that he could hardly hold a pen in his hands. “Oh, it would be nice to return to your hut! thought the king. “There, no one forced me to solve tricky cases.”

Dinner did not seem so tasty to the new king, although many delicious dishes were served at the table.

After dinner, a large parade was scheduled for the troops going to war, which, under pressure from the court party, the king had to announce to a strong, powerful neighbor. As he traveled around the regiments and batteries, the peasant king sadly thought about how many people would fall on the battlefields, how many widows and orphans would be left, and how great the responsibility that he takes upon himself for all the consequences of the war. With a heavy heart, the king returned to the palace, sadly went to bed and, despite the fact that his bed was soft and comfortable, he spent an anxious and sleepless night. Oh, how he would like to return to his poor hut, where, despite the hard bed, he always slept so peacefully!

The king thought and thought what to do, and finally came up with an idea. The next day, early in the morning, he ordered to bring his peasant clothes, put them on, and so he remained in them. And when the ministers and dignitaries gathered and ordered to report about themselves, he went out to them and said:

I refuse the honor of being your king, choose whoever you want instead of me. While I was a peasant, I knew only my needs, but when I became a king, I began to bear the burdens of the whole people. This is beyond my power, and therefore I yield my throne to the one who wishes.

With these words, the peasant left the palace, left the capital and never looked into it again.

Everything that is told here happened a long time ago and in the kingdom thirtieth from us ... In our time and in our countries, everything goes the other way around: - everyone wants to command, and no one wants to obey.

Questions and tasks for the fairy tale:

What does it mean to take responsibility for everything that happens around?

Why was the new king afraid to take responsibility for ruling the country? What qualities did he lack for this?

In his place, would you stay in the palace? Do you think being a ruler is a burden or a pleasure?

Game "Guess the profession"

Everyone chooses a profession. The one who starts the game says what the representative of his profession is responsible for, for example: "I am responsible for making people smile more." All the rest guess what profession they are talking about and explain their opinion. The first person to guess continues the game.

Scene "Wise advice"

Children are divided into pairs. One person from the pair proves that a person, first of all, should feel responsible for others, and the second convinces him that being able to answer for himself is much more important.

Paperwork

Ask the children to remember a responsible act of a literary hero and write an essay about how this act affected the fate of this hero and those around him.

Homework

Write down a quote from Fyodor Dostoevsky from the epigraph to the lesson. Ask everyone to choose someone close to them who needs help the most, and for a week try to be responsible for that person.

Homework

Discuss with the children whether it was difficult for them to be responsible for their loved ones; and whether the person for whom they were responsible felt that something had changed in his life.

music: classical

The blind man lay quietly, arms folded across his chest and smiling. He smiled unconsciously. He was ordered not to move, in any case, to make movements only in cases of strict necessity. So he lay for the third day with a bandage over his eyes. But his state of mind, despite that faint, frozen smile, was that of a condemned man, waiting for mercy. From time to time the possibility of starting to live again, balancing himself in the bright space with the mysterious work of the pupils, appearing suddenly clear, excited him so much that he twitched all over, as in a dream.

Protecting Rabid's nerves, the professor did not tell him that the operation was a success, that he would certainly become sighted again. Any ten-thousandth chance back could turn everything into a tragedy. Therefore, saying goodbye, the professor said to Rabid every day:

Keep calm. Everything is done for you, the rest will follow.

In the midst of tormenting tension, waiting and all sorts of assumptions, Rabid heard the voice of Daisy Garan coming up to him. It was a girl who served in the clinic; Often, in difficult moments, Rabid asked her to put her hand on his forehead, and now he expected with pleasure that this small, friendly hand would lightly cling to his head, which was numb from immobility. And so it happened.

When she took her hand away, he, who had looked inside himself for so long and learned to accurately understand the movements of his heart, realized once again that his main fear of late had been the fear of never seeing Daisy. Even when he was brought here and he heard a swift female voice in charge of the patient's device, a gratifying sensation stirred in him of a gentle and slender being, drawn by the sound of this voice. It was the warm, merry and soulful sound of young life, rich in melodious nuances as clear as a warm morning.

Gradually, her image clearly arose in him, arbitrary, like all our ideas about the invisible, but necessary for him. Talking for three weeks only to her, submitting to her easy and persistent care, Rabid knew that he had begun to love her from the very first days; now to recover - became his goal for her sake.

He thought that she treated him with deep sympathy, favorable for the future. Blind, he did not consider himself entitled to ask these questions, postponing their decision until the time when both of them looked into each other's eyes. And he did not know at all that this girl, whose voice made him so happy, was thinking about his recovery with fear and sadness, because she was ugly. Her feeling for him arose out of loneliness, the consciousness of her influence over him, and out of a consciousness of security. He was blind, and she could calmly look at herself with his inner idea of ​​her, which he expressed not in words, but in his whole attitude - and she knew that he loved her.

Before the operation, they talked for a long time and a lot. Rabid told her his wanderings, she - about everything that is happening in the world now. And the line of her conversation was full of the same charming softness as her voice. As they parted, they thought of something else to say to each other. Her last words were:

Goodbye, for now.

Bye... - answered Rabid, and it seemed to him that in "bye" there was hope.

He was straight, young, bold, playful, tall and black-haired. He should have had - if he had - black, shining eyes with a stare. Imagining this look, Daisy moved away from the mirror with fear in her eyes. And her sickly, irregular face was covered with a gentle blush.

What will happen? she said. - Well, let this good month come to an end. But open his prison, Professor Rebald, please!

When the hour of testing came and the light was established, with which at first Rabid's weak gaze could fight, the professor and his assistant, and with them several other people of the learned world, surrounded Rabid.

Daisy! he said, thinking she was there and hoping to be the first to see her. But she was not there precisely because at that moment she did not find the strength to see, to feel the excitement of a person whose fate was decided by removing the bandage. She stood in the middle of the room as if spellbound, listening to voices and footsteps. By an involuntary effort of the imagination, overshadowing us in moments of heavy sighs, she saw herself somewhere in another world, another, which she would like to appear to a newborn look, she sighed and resigned herself to fate.

Meanwhile, the bandage was removed. Continuing to feel her disappearance, pressure, Rabid lay in sharp and blissful doubts. His pulse dropped.

The deed is done,” said the professor, his voice trembling with excitement. - Look, open your eyes!

Rabid raised his eyelids, still thinking that Daisy was there, and ashamed to call her again. A curtain hung in folds in front of his face.

Remove the matter, he said, it interferes. And, having said this, he realized that he had seen the light that the folds of matter, hung as if on the very face, were a window curtain at the far end of the room.

His chest began to convulsively heave, and he, not noticing the sobs that uncontrollably shook his entire emaciated, stale body, began to look around, as if reading a book. Object after object passed before him in the light of his rapture, and he saw the door, and instantly fell in love with it, because this was the door through which Daisy passed. Smiling blissfully, he took a glass from the table, his hand trembled, and, almost without mistake, he put it back in its original place.

Now he was impatiently waiting for all the people who had restored his sight to leave, in order to call Daisy and, with the right to receive the ability to fight for life, tell her all his main things. But a few more minutes passed of solemn, excited, learned conversation in an undertone, during which he had to answer how he felt and how he saw.

In the quick flash of thoughts that filled him, and in his terrible excitement, he could not recall the details of those minutes and establish when at last he was left alone. But this moment has come. Rabid called, told the servant that Daisy Garan was expecting him immediately, and began to look blissfully at the door.

Having learned that the operation had been a brilliant success, Daisy returned to her room, breathing the purity of loneliness, and, with tears in her eyes, with the meek courage of the last one who crossed out all meetings, dressed in a pretty summer dress.

She tidied up her thick hair simply - just in such a way that nothing could be done better for this dark wave with a wet sheen, and with her face open to everything, naturally raising her head, she went out with a smile on her face and an execution in her soul to the doors, behind which everything is so changed unusually. It even seemed to her that it was not Rabid who was lying there, but someone completely different. And, recalling with all the speed of the last minutes many little things of their meetings and conversations, she realized that he definitely loved her.

Touching the door, she hesitated and opened it, almost wishing everything was as it was. Rabid lay with his head towards her, looking for her behind him with his eyes in an energetic turn of his face. She passed and stopped.

Who you are? Rabid asked with a questioning smile.

Really, I'm like a new being for you? - she said, instantly returning to him with the sounds of her voice all their short, hidden from each other past.

In his black eyes, she saw undisguised, complete joy, and suffering let her go. No miracle happened, but all her inner world, all her love, fears, pride and desperate thoughts and all the excitement of the last minute were expressed in such a smile of her blush-filled face that all of her, with her slender figure, seemed to Rabid the sound of a string entwined with flowers. She was good in the light of love.

Now, only now, - said Rabid, - I understood why you have such a voice that I liked to hear it even in my sleep. Now, even if you go blind, I will love you and this will cure you. Pardon me. I'm a little crazy because I'm resurrected. I can be allowed to say everything.

At that moment, his dark-born, accurate representation of her was and remained in a way that she did not expect.

The blind lead the blind

The blind lead the blind
From the Bible. New Testament (Gospel of Matthew, ch. 15, article 14), the words of Jesus Christ: “Leave them: they are blind leaders of the blind; but if the blind lead the blind, both will fall into the pit.”
Allegorically: about bad leaders, leaders and an ignorant crowd submissive to them, who stand each other (iron., contempt.).

Encyclopedic Dictionary of winged words and expressions. - M.: "Lokid-Press". Vadim Serov. 2003 .

See what "The Blind Leads the Blind" is in other dictionaries:

- (the one and the other does not know where he wanders) The blind to the blind (sighted) is not a pointer. Blind (inosk.) Blinded by recklessness, passion Cf. Cæcus monstrat viam. Wed Ut si caecus iter monstrare velit. If a blind man wanted to show the way. Horat. Ep. 1, 17,… … Michelson's Big Explanatory Phraseological Dictionary

This term has other meanings, see Blind. Blind Genre detective / thriller Creator Andrey Voronin Elena Karavaeshnikova Starring Sergey Makhovikov Maria Poroshina ... Wikipedia

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- (Brueghel, Pieter) (c. 1525-1569), the last great Renaissance painter in the Netherlands. Biography of Pieter Brueghel the Elder, written in 1604 by the Dutch artist and historian biographer Karel van Mander, is the main source ... ... Collier Encyclopedia

Leave them: they are blind leaders of the blind; and if the blind lead the blind, both will fall into the pit. Isaiah 42:19 Jeremiah 5:31 Luke 6:39 ... Bible. Old and New Testaments. Synodal translation. Bible encyclopedia arch. Nicephorus.

Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted. Blessed are the merciful, for they shall receive mercy. Blessed are the pure in heart... Blessed are the peacemakers... Blessed are those persecuted for righteousness' sake, for theirs is the Kingdom of Heaven... ... Consolidated encyclopedia of aphorisms

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Books

• Children of the Underground. The Blind Musician, Korolenko Vladimir Galaktionovich. The book includes two textbook works by V. G. Korolenko. `Children of the Underground` - a story about an unexpected friendship between the son of a judge and a homeless boy. A short, but very sincere relationship is not ...
• Children of the Underground The Blind Musician of the Tale, Korolenko V.. The book includes two textbook works by V. G. Korolenko.. “Children of the Underground” is a story about the unexpected friendship between the son of a judge and a homeless boy. A short, but very sincere relationship is not ...

Around the circumference, with a screech and crackle, as if overtaking internal, ever closer to the center, existences, but fatally at the same time, false life describes frantic circles, infecting people of smaller circles with the feverish saturation that it is full of, and disturbing them more and more. and a calmer inner rhythm, like a thunder of movement, far removed from the truth. This impression of feverish brilliance, as it were, full of the limit of happiness, is, in essence, the suffering of a frenzied movement, rushing around the goal, but far - always far - from them. And the weak, like me, no matter how close they are to the center, are forced to carry within themselves this external whirlwind of senseless haste, beyond which is emptiness.

Meanwhile, one dream haunts me. I see people who are unhurried, like points closest to the center, with a wise and harmonious rhythm, in the fullness of their vital forces, in control of themselves, with a smile even in suffering. They are slow because the target is closer to them. They are calm because the goal satisfies them. And they are beautiful because they know what they want. The five sisters beckon them, standing in the center of the great circle - motionless, for they are the goal - and equal to all the movement of the circle, for there is a source of movement. Their names are: Love, Freedom, Nature, Truth and Beauty. You, Emerson, told me that I was sick - oh! if so, then only by this great love. Or…

Glancing at the creaking door, I saw that it was ajar. A mustachioed, giggling face peeped out with one eye. And I shut up.

This manuscript, with an instruction to the chief of the Centaurus to immediately capture the gray car, as well as a wax figure that escaped from the freak show, calling itself El Basso bullfighting, I put into the application box tonight.

Voice and eye

The blind man lay quietly, arms folded across his chest and smiling. He smiled unconsciously. He was ordered not to move, in any case, to make movements only in cases of strict necessity. So he lay for the third day with a bandage over his eyes. But his state of mind, despite that faint, frozen smile, was that of a condemned man, waiting for mercy. From time to time the possibility of starting to live again, balancing himself in the bright space with the mysterious work of the pupils, appearing suddenly clear, excited him so much that he twitched all over, as in a dream.

Protecting Rabid's nerves, the professor did not tell him that the operation was a success, that he would certainly become sighted again. Any ten-thousandth chance back could turn everything into a tragedy. Therefore, saying goodbye, the professor said to Rabid every day:

Keep calm. Everything is done for you, the rest will follow.

In the midst of tormenting tension, waiting and all sorts of assumptions, Rabid heard the voice of Daisy Garan coming up to him. It was a girl who served in the clinic; Often, in difficult moments, Rabid asked her to put her hand on his forehead, and now he expected with pleasure that this small, friendly hand would lightly cling to his head, which was numb from immobility. And so it happened.

When she took her hand away, he, who had looked inside himself for so long and learned to accurately understand the movements of his heart, realized once again that his main fear of late had been the fear of never seeing Daisy. Even when he was brought here and he heard a swift female voice in charge of the patient's device, a gratifying sensation stirred in him of a gentle and slender being, drawn by the sound of this voice. It was the warm, merry and soulful sound of young life, rich in melodious nuances as clear as a warm morning.

Gradually, her image clearly arose in him, arbitrary, like all our ideas about the invisible, but necessary for him. Talking for three weeks only to her, submitting to her easy and persistent care, Rabid knew that he had begun to love her from the very first days; now to recover - became his goal for her sake.

He thought that she treated him with deep sympathy, favorable for the future. Blind, he did not consider himself entitled to ask these questions, postponing their decision until the time when both of them looked into each other's eyes. And he did not know at all that this girl, whose voice made him so happy, was thinking about his recovery with fear and sadness, because she was ugly. Her feeling for him arose out of loneliness, the consciousness of her influence over him, and out of a consciousness of security. He was blind, and she could calmly look at herself with his inner idea of ​​her, which he expressed not in words, but in his whole attitude - and she knew that he loved her.

Before the operation, they talked for a long time and a lot. Rabid told her his wanderings, she - about everything that is happening in the world now. And the line of her conversation was full of the same charming softness as her voice. As they parted, they thought of something else to say to each other. Her last words were:

Goodbye, for now.

Bye... - answered Rabid, and it seemed to him that there was hope in "bye".

He was straight, young, bold, playful, tall and black-haired. He should have had - if he had - black, shining eyes with a stare. Imagining this look, Daisy moved away from the mirror with fear in her eyes. And her sickly, irregular face was covered with a gentle blush.

What will happen? she said. - Well, let this good month come to an end. But open his prison, Professor Rebald, please!

When the hour of testing came and the light was established, with which at first Rabid's weak gaze could fight, the professor and his assistant, and with them several other people of the learned world, surrounded Rabid.

Daisy! he said, thinking she was there and hoping to be the first to see her. But she was not there precisely because at that moment she did not find the strength to see, to feel the excitement of a person whose fate was decided by removing the bandage. She stood in the middle of the room as if spellbound, listening to voices and footsteps. By an involuntary effort of the imagination, overshadowing us in moments of heavy sighs, she saw herself somewhere in another world, another, which she would like to appear to a newborn look, she sighed and resigned herself to fate.

Meanwhile, the bandage was removed. Continuing to feel her disappearance, pressure, Rabid lay in sharp and blissful doubts. His pulse dropped.

The deed is done,” said the professor, his voice trembling with excitement. - Look, open your eyes!

Rabid raised his eyelids, still thinking that Daisy was there, and ashamed to call her again. A curtain hung in folds in front of his face.

Remove the matter, he said, it interferes. And, having said this, he realized that he had seen the light that the folds of matter, hung as if on the very face, were a window curtain at the far end of the room.

His chest began to convulsively heave, and he, not noticing the sobs that uncontrollably shook his entire emaciated, stale body, began to look around, as if reading a book. Object after object passed before him in the light of his rapture, and he saw the door, and instantly fell in love with it, because this was the door through which Daisy passed. Smiling blissfully, he took a glass from the table, his hand trembled, and, almost without mistake, he put it back in its original place.