Composition:

Should a person be responsible for his loved ones? The Russian prose writer and publicist Boris Petrovich Ekimov makes you think about this question in his text.

The author talks about how a family decided to visit an old nanny who now lives in a nursing home. Maria Ivanovna tried with all her appearance to show that she was living well, but, according to the hero-narrator, the family understood that if they offered her to leave with them, she would agree. Next, the author talks about the news of the nanny’s death. The fact that the family missed the funeral, moreover, they do not know where Maria Ivanovna is buried. This makes the heroes ashamed.

I share the opinion of B.P. Ekimov. A person should be grateful to the one who devoted at least a small period of his life to him and be responsible for him.

Very often this problem finds its place in the works of Russian writers. K.G. Paustovsky in the story “Telegram” examines a similar problem. Katerina Petrovna’s daughter has not visited her mother for many years now. The daughter lived in the city, and the mother in the village. Katerina Petrovna was ill and her main desire was to see her daughter, maybe in last time. But Nastya was never able to find time for her own mother, for the closest person in her life. The mother died without ever seeing her daughter.

In A. De. Saint-Exupery’s work “Planet of People,” the author talks about the accident that happened to the pilot. About how he, lost in the snow, forces himself to crawl forward, not paying attention to the pain. The pilot was saved by a sense of responsibility for the people close to him.

B.P. Ekimov considers current problem. The most precious thing in a person’s life is time, and if someone devoted at least a part of their time to us, then we should be grateful to him for it and not forget it.

Text by Boris Petrovich Ekimov

(1) There was no need to wait for letters from Maryana, our old nanny. (2) My father and I decided to visit her.

(3) A well-kept nursing home for former party workers stood in a sparse suburban forest. (4) Maryana came out of the house to us with her usual joyful smile from ear to ear. (5) But only this wide smile and even the bearish clumsiness of her movements remained from the completely gray-haired nanny. (6) Moreover, as before, she grinded with her tongue without interruption.

(7) It turned out that here she quickly got bored of sitting with her hands folded, and she asked to be an assistant in the kitchen. (8) The servants had long ago guessed that Maryana did not belong to either the Soviet or party workers, but belonged to the category of complete simpletons, and they accepted the free worker into the kitchen without any delay. (9) The nanny was very pleased with her career.

- (10) And then it came in handy! - she boasted, holding out her trembling hands in front of us. “(11) In the morning, with these hands I’ll peel a bag of potatoes... (12) Our ward is as big as a church,” she continued. - (13) For four. (14) But one grandmother died, and now the bed is walking around. (15) And it’s better for us, freer!..

(16) In general, she was cheerful with all her might and was clearly trying to convince us how good and glorious her life was. (17) But I listened to her, and my heart sank, and for some reason my eyes did not want to look at Maryana. (18) It felt like if we offered her now to leave this wonderful shelter with a perfectly organized life and go home with us, she would go to the car without hesitation.

(19) Already when we were saying goodbye, promising to definitely visit her again, Maryana remembered one more thing.

(20) My pension is disappearing! She told her father with a permanent smile. - (21) The nurses will hide the glasses from the grandmothers and take away the money. (22) What will you do? — she caught herself, realizing that she was casting a shadow on the reputation of her magnificent establishment. - (23) They are young, fast. (24) Tell them to deposit my pension in the bank. (25) And when they bury me in the ground,” here she, as before, tried to stamp her foot dashingly, “give this money to the smaller one.” - (20) She meant my younger brother.

(27) The father, also apparently slightly emotional from meeting Maryana, began to say that she would live another hundred years. (28) But something new and serious crossed the nanny’s face. (29) And she interrupted her father:

- Not really...

(30) At the end of the summer they called from the nursing home and reported the death of Maria Ivanovna Mikolutskaya.

(31) It is unknown where she was buried. (32) None of us visited her grave. (33) And now you can no longer find this grave. (34) Lonely old women dying in nursing homes are not entitled to metal crosses or stone tombstones. (35) Most often they get a wooden peg with a plywood board on which the surname and dates of birth and death are carelessly written.

(36) But after a year or two, rain and snow take away the ink inscription from the plywood, the peg falls, the grave mound settles, and no trace remains that anyone’s bones lie here. (37) What remains is simply the earth, from which every spring night blindness, horse sorrel, burdocks and dandelions climb together.

(38) Now it seems to me that this is how it should be. (39) What else could our nanny turn into if not into simple earth overgrown with grass?

(40) So I tell myself and listen with suspicion to my own words: am I trying to calm my conscience?

(According to B. Ekimov*)

* Boris Petrovich Ekimov (born in 1938) is a Russian prose writer and publicist.

Essay based on the text: “There was no need to wait for letters from Maryana, our old nanny.” Ekimov B.P.

What does it mean to treat old people well? About this eternal problem The writer B. Ekimov made me think.

The text tells the usual story about how one wealthy family places an old nanny in a certain “wonderful shelter with a perfectly organized life.” The narrator, whom she raised, one day decides to visit Maryana with his father. The author shows how glad she is to meet her family, how she cheers up with all her might, tries not to show her melancholy and loneliness, convincing them of “how nice and good her life is.” And young man his heart contracts, and from shame he cannot raise his eyes to his beloved nanny.

The writer leads us to the idea that a good attitude towards old people cannot be limited to their material support.

I share the author's point of view. Man does not live by bread alone! People, and old people in particular, need another luxury - luxury human communication. Sometimes it is enough to simply listen to an elderly person or be with him. Old people should be confident in their need, and not feel like a hindrance or a burden to the “youth”.

I remember the heroine of K. G. Paustovsky’s story “Telegram”, who every time postpones her trip to her sick single mother and even forgets to answer her letters. Having received news of Katerina Ivanovna’s illness, the girl again hesitates and does not find her alive. This is the case when nothing can be corrected, and the pangs of conscience are unlikely to subside over the years...

Thus, B. Ekimov’s text teaches how not to make annoying and bitter mistakes in life.

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• Should we be strict about the mistakes of older people? essay

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Lyubov Mikhailovna, please check your essay. Thank you very much in advance!

1) There was no need to wait for letters from Maryana, our old nanny. (2) My father and I decided to visit her. (3) A well-kept nursing home for former party workers stood in a sparse suburban forest. (4) Maryana came out of the house to us with her usual joyful smile from ear to ear. (5) But only this wide smile and even the bearish clumsiness of her movements remained from the completely gray-haired nanny. (6) Moreover, as before, she grinded with her tongue without interruption. (7) It turned out that here she quickly got bored of sitting with her hands folded, and she asked to be an assistant in the kitchen. (8) The servants had long ago guessed that Maryana did not belong to either the Soviet or party workers, but belonged to the category of complete simpletons, and they accepted the free worker into the kitchen without any delay. (9) The nanny was very pleased with her career. - (10) And then it came in handy! - she boasted, holding out her trembling hands in front of us. “(And) In the morning, with these hands I’ll peel a bag of potatoes... (12) Our ward is as big as a church,” she continued. - (13) For four. (14) But one grandmother died, and now the bed is walking around. (15) And we are better off, freer!.. (16) In general, she was cheerful with all her might and clearly tried to convince us how good and glorious her life was. (17) But I listened to her, and my heart sank, and for some reason my eyes did not want to look at Maryana. (18) It felt like if we offered her now to leave this wonderful shelter with a perfectly organized life and go home with us, she would go to the car without hesitation. (19) Already when we were saying goodbye, promising to definitely visit her again, Maryana remembered one more thing. - (20) My pension is disappearing! - she said to her father with an everlasting smile. - (21) The nurses will hide the glasses from the grandmothers and take away the money. (22) What will you do? - she caught herself, realizing that she was casting a shadow on the reputation of her magnificent establishment. - (23) They are young, fast. (24) Tell them to deposit my pension in the bank. (25) And when they bury me in the ground,” here she, as before, tried to stamp her foot dashingly, “give this money to the smaller one.” - (26) She meant my younger brother. (27) The father, also apparently slightly emotional from meeting Maryana, began to say that she would live another hundred years. (28) But something new and serious crossed the nanny’s face, and she interrupted her father: - (29) No, I’ll go to God soon. (30) At the end of the summer they called from the nursing home and reported the death of Maria Ivanovna Mikolutskaya. (31) It is unknown where she was buried. (32) None of us visited her grave. (33) And now you can no longer find this grave. (34) Lonely old women dying in nursing homes are not entitled to metal crosses or stone tombstones. (35) They most often receive a wooden peg with a plywood board on which the surname and dates of birth and death are carelessly written. (36) But after a year or two, rain and snow take away the ink inscription from the plywood, the peg falls, the grave mound settles, and no trace remains that anyone’s bones lie here. (37) What remains is simply the earth, from which every spring night blindness, horse sorrel, burdocks and dandelions climb together. (38) Now it seems to me that this is how it should be. (39) What else could our nanny turn into if not into simple earth overgrown with grass? (40) So I tell myself and listen with suspicion to my own words: am I not simply trying to calm my conscience? (According to B. Ekimov*) Boris Petrovich Ekimov (born in 1938) is a Russian prose writer and publicist.

My composition:

Why are older people often left alone? Does the younger generation have the right not to take care of them, to leave them alone? It is these questions that Boris Petrovich Ekimov, a Russian prose writer and publicist, thinks about in the text proposed for analysis, raising the problem of indifferent attitude towards older people.
The hero-narrator describes a visit to Maryana, his old nanny, who lived in a nursing home. Maryana tried to convince the hero-narrator and his father that she was living well, but “it was felt that if she were offered to leave this wonderful shelter and go home, she would go to the car without hesitation.” Even while living in a nursing home, the old nanny continued to take care of the people dear to her, so she asked to give her pension to the brother of the narrator’s hero. When Maryana died, the narrator and his father did not even know where her grave was. The author especially emphasizes that the hero realizes how wrong he acted towards his nanny, and understands that he should not have forgotten about the person who took care of him. He tries to justify his behavior, but asks himself: “Am I trying to ease my conscience?”
Boris Ekimov believes that you need to be attentive to your loved ones and elderly people. We need to take care of them, respect them, not leave them alone, appreciate what they have done for us.
I completely agree with the author's position. I believe that we do not have the right to abandon to the mercy of fate those who love us, who have invested their souls in us.
Confirmation of my words can be found in I. S. Turgenev’s novel “Fathers and Sons.” Evgeny Bazarov, one of the main characters of the work, was dismissive of his old parents, their care and attention bothered him. The old Bazarovs lived with the dream of meeting their son; for them there was no one more important than him. But Bazarov did not show reciprocal feelings, seemed cold towards his parents, and was in no hurry to please them with his arrival. Only in the face of death did he realize that his elderly parents were the only people who truly loved him. He realized that he should have paid more attention to them, appreciated their care, but he realized this too late.

Our life is structured in such a way that its decline often means a person’s dependence on others. And people should be sensitive to those whose lives they can improve by filling them with meaning.

Answers (5)

• Answer accepted

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  Why are older people often left alone? Does the younger generation have the right not to take care of them, to leave them alone? It is these questions that Boris Petrovich Ekimov, a Russian prose writer and publicist, thinks about in the text proposed for analysis, raising the problem of indifferent attitude towards older people. (DO NOT ASK TWO QUESTIONS IN A PROBLEM! YOU WILL NOT BE ABLE TO ANSWER THEM. Change it to one.)
  Hero - narrator describes a visit to Maryana, his old nanny, who lived in a nursing home. Maryana tried to convince hero-storyteller and his father that she was living well, but “it felt like if you had offered her to leave this wonderful shelter and go home, she would have gone to the car without hesitation.” Even while living (why a sign?) in a nursing home, the old nanny continued to take care of people dear to her, so she asked to give her pension to the hero’s brother. When Maryana died, the narrator and his father did not even know where her grave was. The author especially emphasizes that the hero realizes how wrong he acted towards his nanny, and understands that he should not have forgotten about the person who took care of him. He tries to justify his behavior, but asks himself: “Am I trying to calm my conscience?”( Where is the answer to the problem? Why are older people often left alone?)
  Boris Ekimov believes that need to be attentive to your loved ones and elderly people. Need to take care of them, respect them, don’t leave them alone, appreciate what they did for us.
  I I completely agree with the author's position. I I believe that we do not have the right to abandon to the mercy of fate those who love us, who have invested their souls in us. RUSSIAN CLASSICS HAVE WRITTEN ABOUT THIS MORE THAN TIMES.
  Confirmation of my words](G.) can be found in the novel by I. S. Turgenev “Fathers and Sons”. Evgeny Bazarov, one of the main characters of the work, was dismissive of his old parents, their care and attention bothered to him. The old Bazarovs lived with the dream of meeting their son; for them there was no one more important than him. But Bazarov did not show reciprocal feelings, seemed cold towards his parents, and was in no hurry to please them with his arrival. Only in the face of death did he realize that his elderly parents were the only people who truly loved him. He realized that he should have paid more attention to them, appreciated their care, but he realized this too late.
  A similar situation is described in the story “Telegram” by K. G. Paustovsky. Nastya, main character story, she lived in Leningrad and could not find time to write a letter to her mother, Katerina Petrovna, in the village. And for the old mother, her daughter was the only meaning of existence; she lived in the hope of meeting her. Nastya did not want to go to the village; she was spinning in the whirlwind of city life. When she finally arrived, Katerina Petrovna had already died without waiting for her daughter. Only then did Nastya understand her guilt towards her mother, whom she had so undeservedly forgotten and doomed to loneliness, whose love she could not appreciate.
  Our life is arranged in such a way that it sunset often means a person's dependence on others. And people should be sensitive to those whose lives they can improve by filling them with meaning.

• Answer accepted

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  Thank you very much! How many points can you get for such an essay?

  I tried to correct the errors, this is what I got:

  Unfortunately, older people are often left alone. But does the younger generation have the right not to take care of them, to leave them alone? It is this question that Boris Petrovich Ekimov, a Russian prose writer and publicist, thinks about in the text proposed for analysis, raising the problem of indifferent attitude towards older people.
  The hero-narrator describes a visit to Maryana, his old nanny, who lived in a nursing home. Maryana claimed that she was living well, but “it felt like if she were offered to leave this wonderful shelter and go home, she would go to the car without hesitation.” Even while living in a nursing home, the old nanny continued to take care of the people dear to her, so she asked to give her pension to the brother of the narrator's hero. When Maryana died, the narrator and his father did not even know where her grave was. The author especially emphasizes that the hero realizes how wrong he acted towards his nanny, and understands that he should not have forgotten about the person who took care of him. He tries to justify his behavior, but asks himself: “Am I trying to ease my conscience?”
  Boris Ekimov believes that you should be attentive to your loved ones and older people. We need to take care of them, respect them, not leave them alone, appreciate what they have done for us.
  
  Thus, I. S. Turgenev addresses the topic of attitude towards elderly parents in the novel “Fathers and Sons.” Evgeny Bazarov, one of the main characters of the work, was dismissive of his old parents, their care and attention. The old Bazarovs lived with the dream of meeting their son; for them there was no one more important than him. But Bazarov did not show reciprocal feelings, seemed cold towards his parents, and was in no hurry to please them with his arrival. Only in the face of death did he realize that his elderly parents were the only people who truly loved him. He realized that he should have paid more attention to them, appreciated their care, but he realized this too late.
  A similar situation is described in the story “Telegram” by K. G. Paustovsky. Nastya, the main character of the story, lived in Leningrad and could not find time to write a letter to her mother, Katerina Petrovna, in the village. And for the old mother, her daughter was the only meaning of existence; she lived in the hope of meeting her. Nastya didn’t want to go to the village; she was spinning in the whirlwind of city life. When she finally arrived, Katerina Petrovna had already died without waiting for her daughter. Only then did Nastya understand her guilt towards her mother, whom she had so undeservedly forgotten and doomed to loneliness, whose love she could not appreciate.
  

• Answer accepted

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  Unfortunately, older people are often left alone. But does the younger generation have the right not to take care of them, to leave them alone? This is precisely the question that is pondered in the text proposed for analysis. B.P. Ekimov, Russian prose writer and publicist, raising the problem of indifferent attitude towards older people(Take it away.L).
  The hero-narrator describes a visit to Maryana, his old nanny, who lived in a nursing home. Maryana claimed that she was living well, but “it felt like if she were offered to leave this wonderful shelter and go home, she would go to the car without hesitation.” BUT NOBODY CALLED HER...AND THE OLD NANNY, EVEN living in a nursing home, continued to take care of the people dear to her, so she asked to give her pension to the brother of the hero-storyteller. When Maryana died, the narrator and his father did not even know where her grave was. The author especially emphasizes that the hero realizes how wrong he acted towards his nanny, and understands that he should not have forgotten about the person who took care of him. He, trying to justify his behavior, asks himself: “Am I trying to calm my conscience?”
  Boris(YOU NEED THE SAME: B.P,) Ekimov believes that one should be attentive to close elderly people. We need to take care of them, respect them, not leave them alone, appreciate what they have done for us.
  I completely agree with the author's position. In my opinion, we do not have the right to abandon to the mercy of fate those who love us, who have invested their souls in us. Russian classics have written about this more than once.
  Thus, I. S. Turgenev addresses the topic of attitude towards elderly parents in the novel “Fathers and Sons.” Evgeny Bazarov, one of the main characters of the work, was dismissive of his old parents, their care and attention. The old Bazarovs lived with the dream of meeting their son; for them there was no one more important than him. But Bazarov did not show reciprocal feelings, seemed cold towards his parents, and was in no hurry to please them with his arrival. Only in the face of death did he realize that his elderly parents were the only people who truly loved him. He Understood that he should have paid more attention to them, appreciated their care, but Understood he's too late.
  A similar situation is described in story K. G. Paustovsky “Telegram”. Nastya, main character story, lived in Leningrad and could not find time to write a letter to her village mothers, Katerina Petrovna. And for the old lady - mothers her daughter was the only reason for her existence, she lived in the hope of meeting her. Nastya did not want to go to the village; she was spinning in the whirlwind of city life. When she finally arrived, Katerina Petrovna had already died without waiting for her daughter. Only then did Nastya understand her guilt towards her mother, whom she had so undeservedly forgotten and doomed to loneliness, whose love she could not appreciate.
  Our life is structured in such a way that in old age a person especially needs care and support. And people should be sensitive to those whose lives they can improve by filling them with meaning.

  Ilya, it worked good job. Clean it up.
  K1-1 K2-3 K3-1 K4-3 K5-0 K6-1 K7-3 K8-3 K9-2 K10-1 K11-1 K12-1=20 points

Every person has a need to be needed and to feel supported. But in old age, many find themselves far from loved ones. Do older people admit that they would like to return to their old relationships? How can a person who lived for the sake of others exist alone? It is this problem that B.P. Ekimov is thinking about.

The issue of loneliness of old people is especially relevant in our time, because family values and respect for elders have faded into the background for many. This problem falls under the social category. This conclusion can be drawn due to the fact that we're talking about about a whole layer of society - about older people. The problem raised is examined using the example of the fate of the narrator’s nanny, who is living out her years in a nursing home. B. Ekimov draws attention to the fact that Maryana accepted her loneliness without complaining, without showing true feelings.

On the one hand, the nanny was even pleased with her position in the house and the fact that she could do at least some business. But on the other hand, the woman hid her melancholy from prying eyes.

Indeed, one cannot but agree with B.P. Ekimov. Old people who paid so much attention to education younger generation, need care and deserve gratitude for what they have done for others and loved ones.

My position is confirmed by experience fiction. This problem has been repeatedly considered in the works of Russian classics. One cannot help but recall K. Paustovsky’s story “Telegram”. Katerina Petrovna doted on her daughter, but the latter left her mother alone. The heroine did not understand how precious her attention was to the elderly woman and how painful her indifference was. And Katerina Petrovna’s life ended far from the person closest to her, who never thanked her mother for her selfless love.

Unfortunately, lonely older people exist not only in literature, but also in life. In the village of Ivanovka, where my grandmother lives, there is a rickety, half-rotten hut. An elderly woman used to live in this house, and in my memory, relatives from the city had never visited her. As she grew older, she began to forget much of what she knew, but none of her relatives came to support her grandmother or help with the housework.

So, older people need our attention. After all, if a person has dedicated his life to those around him and his loved ones, he must receive a reward for this: care, understanding, attention. The highest degree of ingratitude is to allow such a person to be lonely. Old people need support, no matter how hard they hide it.

1. 1. Texts from Tsybulko’s collection (2016), which can be used as arguments. Options: 1, 2, 4, 5, 11, 12, 15, 16, 17, 18, 26, 31, 32, 33, 34, 35, 36 S. Salnikov - magazine article “Save the whales!” Option 1. 1.The problem of human relationships with wild animals. (What should be the “relationship between humans and wild animals?”) Wild animals sometimes need the support of a person who is able to come to the rescue in difficult situations when they are in danger. A person must be worthy of trust, which animals, unfortunately, do not feel towards a person, not expecting good actions from him 2. The problem of overcoming difficulties in the process of saving wild animals. (How to overcome the difficulties that arise in the process of saving wild animals?) When saving animals, a person must gain trust from them, make them believe in their good intentions. People can achieve success in saving wild animals if they put enough effort into it and act clearly and harmoniously, make well-considered decisions and implement them impeccably. 3. The problem of heroism. (What is the heroism of people?) The heroism of people is manifested in the fact that they are ready to face danger every day in order to help those who need their help. 4. The problem of realizing the great goal of one’s a. (For what do people perform their daily feat?) Those who perform their daily feat realize the great goal of their heroic work - helping people, saving someone's life. 5. The problem of the need for unity different people in saving animals. (How do people feel about protecting animals in different countries?) In an effort to save animals from death different countries act as a united front, the cause of protecting nature unites people of different nationalities. 6. The problem of perpetuating the memory of heroic deeds. (Is it necessary to perpetuate the memory of heroic acts?) The memory of heroic deeds needs to be perpetuated so that people around and descendants know what a person is capable of to save someone’s life. Text. (1) This happened a long time ago, in the fall of 1988, when unexpectedly early, having confused the calendar, winter came. (2) Huge, thick ice covered the northern seas and pressed several California gray whales to the shores of Alaska. (3) The animals rushed about on a narrow strip of clear water between ice hummocks and the rocky shores of Cape Barrow. (4) Every day the strip of water became smaller and smaller, and the whales had to die. (5) Residents of the village watched the whales from the shore, but they could not help them: there were no icebreakers capable of breaking such ice and creating a waterway for the dying sea animals. (6) Help came from a country that then had the most powerful icebreaker fleet in the world. (7)Flagship icebreaker Far Eastern Shipping Company The Admiral Makarov and the diesel-electric ship Vladimir Arsenyev rushed to the rescue. (8) At dawn we approached huge fields of ice stretching almost to the very shore, and there, in front, behind these ice piles, pressed against the rocky shores, whales were dying. (9) The first to break the ice was a beautiful icebreaker, capable of breaking even the most powerful pack hummocks, followed by a diesel-electric ship. (10) On both ships there are experienced polar captains who have been working in the Arctic for many years. (11) Calm commands, verified, clear decisions, impeccable execution. (12) Here everyone understands each other almost without words.
2. 2. (13) The work ahead was difficult. (14) It was not difficult for these giants to break through such ice, but how could they exactly reach the whales that were rushing about on a narrow strip of free water? (15) How to force them to go through the broken passage, believing people? (16) How to prevent the ice from closing again, burying animals under it? (17) These practices sea ​​wolves did not have. (18) Just a week ago they went to the Arctic to help dying cargo ships and successfully saved people, ships, and cargo. (19) That was part of their usual heroic work, but here are whales who are afraid of man and do not understand his actions. (20) You cannot tell them: “Follow me, I will lead you to salvation, clean water ice-free." (21) You won’t convince them that you are a rescuer and not a whaler. (22) But these stern, taciturn people, who had looked danger into the eyes many times, did the incredible and led the sea giants into the sea. (23) The whales went on their endless voyage, forgetting to say thank you to the kind and brave people, and the brave polar explorers again went past Cape Dezhnev to our northern seas, where another steamer was waiting for their help. (24) Their usual work was there - to guide merchant ships through polar ice, because without these ships and their cargo it is impossible to maintain life in the Far North of our country. (25) Because a huge power must stand firmly on these cold and distant shores, where wonderful and brave people live. (26) Now in Vladivostok, in a wonderful place overlooking the Amur Bay, there is a monument to the rescued whales, which was brought to us as a gift from America. (27) And the former captain of the icebreaker “Admiral Makarov” Sergei Fedorovich Reshetov can come here and remember that dear and amazing time and, perhaps, meet here his colleague, captain of the diesel-electric ship “Vladimir Arsenyev” Ruslan Vainigabdinov and other brave, modest, so and the remaining unknown participants of that ice epic. (According to S. Salnikov*) S. Salnikov - article “Save the whales!” (magazine 2010) * Sergei Salnikov (born in 1949) - modern writer, publicist. Anastasia Ermakova. Novel "Plasticine". Text. (1) On the way to the orphanage, our curator Veronica, who was sitting next to me, explained to the newcomers, including me, how to communicate with children. - (2) Understand that the most shameful thing for guys is to look unhappy. (3) Pity really offends them. (4) Of course, they are invigorated and want to be strong. (5) It is we, the volunteers, who must earn their attention, not they - ours. (6) And we need them much more than they need us. (7) We are the ones who are defenseless against them. (8) The guys want to communicate only on equal terms. (9) They can be rude, turn away, and leave. (10) And they will be right. (11) So, we didn’t deserve their trust. (12) And no gifts will help here. (13) Do you understand everything? (14) We nodded together. (15) Bykovsky orphanage.
3. 3. - (16) Today we came to you, - Veronica began cheerfully, - to spend a day of beauty. (17) Among us are experienced hairdressers and photographers. (18) The plan is this: first we do hairstyles for everyone who wants them, and then we take photographs. (19) So think about it - who wants what hairstyle. (20) We will set up a hairdressing salon on the first floor. (21) Then, two hours later, the girl Kira came in, plopped down next to me and demanded: (22) Give me your phone! -- (23) Why? - I asked, not knowing how to react. -- (24) Play. (25) I handed her my mobile phone. - (26) Will you give it to me? - she narrowed her eyes. - (27) When is your birthday? - (28) The fifth of June, what? - (29) For your birthday, I’ll give you the same one. - (30) Aren’t you lying? - the girl became serious. - (31) No. (32) I promise. - (33) Do you want us to go see a hamster? - 34) Do you have a hamster in the orphanage? - I carefully freed myself from her embrace. - (35) Never say that again, do you hear! - (36) How? - (37) In an orphanage - that’s how it is. (38) We say here: at home. (39) This is our home. - (40) Yes, of course, forgive me... (41) Evening. (42) I take out my camera. (43) The teacher gathers the children - both artists and spectators - into a bunch: - (44) Now, now, let’s all get together! (45) He tells them to straighten their clothes and put on smiles. (46) I’m taking photographs. - (47) Well done! (48) Let's do it one more time. (49) “Smile for everyone!” (50) Don’t blink! - the teacher went into a rage. - (51) Will you bring us photos? - asks Ilya. (52) He holds the button accordion carefully, like a baby. - (53) Of course , I’ll bring it. - (54) You, really, bring it, says the teacher, who was just conducting photographic smiles, - the guys will be waiting (55) We’re going home (56) I didn’t even understand what to call it - depression or something. something else. (57) Conscience did not give any concessions, it was bigger and stronger, and most importantly, more merciless than me (58) I was guilty of all these children abandoned by other mothers (59) And this guilt was not pathetic and spectacular, she was quiet and simple, like grass underfoot (60) Inescapable and irresistible (According to A.G. Ermakova)
4. 4. L. Vertel. The story “The Unsound Shot.” Option 4. Text. Read the text and complete tasks 20–25. (1)The best time for hunting with a hound in our area is last days October. (2) By this time, everything in nature calms down, calms down, and the sky, tired of endless cyclones, finally begins to rise, making the world brighter and more welcoming. (3) Dolya was always with me on the hunt - a wonderful Russian hound, not just a master of her craft, but a real grandmaster. (4) For those who are not familiar with hunting, I will say that a dog always searches for a hare in silence, and only when it picks it up, moving from its place, some kind of toggle switch inside it goes off and the voice turns on. (5) To pass the time and take my mind off the growing tension, I began to watch long-tailed tits in a group flying from tree to tree. (6) And at this time, when I was spying on the birds, somewhere far away by the lake a barely audible howl was heard. (7) I had no doubt that it was a dog, but why the howl? (8) I rushed towards the voice with my gun at the ready, throwing branches away from my face. (9) It wasn’t very far to the lake when my legs stopped, because my driven heart was begging for mercy. (10) I hung like a bag on some tree and through the fog in my eyes, very close to me I saw a hare’s trail along which a dog had passed. (11) But the trail did not go to the beaver rubble, but for some reason to a cape overgrown with young birch trees. (12) It was later that I paid tribute to the hare’s ingenuity: before lying down, his scythe crossed along thin ice, realizing that the young ice would become a trap for his heavier pursuers. (13) The share fell through about fifteen meters from the shore. (14) Hearing me, she began to whine pitifully and try to get out of the hole, but the ice was breaking, and she howled again in despair. (15) I rushed along the shore like crazy, not knowing what to do, and Dolya, putting her front paws on the ice, continued to howl. (16) I don’t remember how long this lasted. (17) Throwing away the gun, he went into the forest, fleeing the terrible outcome. (18) I don’t know how far I managed to move away from the shore, but at some point I turned around and rushed back. (19) “Fool, what a fool! - I scolded myself in complete despair. - (20) Where were your brains before? forest, cut down several thin trees, cut off the branches, except for one crown and, tying them one after another in the form of a long sausage, slowly melted it to the duck (24) Then, turning the “anaconda”, he choked the bird with the left branches and safely dragged the trophy to the shore. (25) I always have a folding Swedish hacksaw with me, and according to an old habit, I carry nylon ropes in the large pockets of my hunting jacket (26) Cutting down several birch trees was a matter of five minutes (27) I cut off the branches only halfway and put them down. on the ice. (28) I tied a completely cut off one to it, then a second one, and finally a garland of four birch trees reached the hole.
5. 5. (29) The share already seemed to be barely holding on, it could not even howl; From time to time she just whined like a puppy. (30) And when I, turning the garland, began to cover the dog with branches, fear seized me again. (31) It seemed to me that I would drown her. (32) But then Share, fleeing from the branches pressing on her, began to crush them under herself with her paws, instinctively trying to be on top. (33) Pulling my device, I felt that I was dragging it along with the dog. (34) On my knees, I hugged the trembling, wet Share to me, still not believing that the worst was over. (35) And if I said that at those moments my eyes were dry, it would not be true. (36) Those whom fate brought along the paths of life with these tailed creatures and who at least once were awarded their faithful, selfless love will understand me. (37) On this day there was no time for hunting. (38) I drove the car into the city, and my favorite, wrapped in a jacket, dozed in the back seat and, probably, was watching a dream about a hare, which I couldn’t get to today. (According to L.V. Vertel*) * Leonid Vyacheslavovich. Verten (born in 1940) - member of the Union of Writers of Russia, Karelian writer, author of stories about nature and incidents from the lives of hunters. Option 5. V.A. Soloukhin. "A drop of dew." The genre, as defined by the author, is “lyrical notes.” Problems: 1. The problem of the relationship between man and nature. (How does a person relate to nature? How does nature influence a person?) Nature gives a person unforgettable sensations, helps him feel happy, gain an understanding that every moment of life is unique. Being in nature, a person learns to sincerely enjoy the world around him. 2. The problem of perception of the surrounding world. (How should we perceive the world around us?) Everything that surrounds us is full of significance and meaning, every moment of life is unique. We need to learn to appreciate these moments. Childhood memories of visiting native places and being in nature help preserve a joyful worldview. Text. (1) The trip to Olepin gave me an unforgettable experience. (2) Morning found me not in bed, not in a hut or city apartment, but under a haystack on the banks of the Koloksha River. (3) But it’s not fishing that I remember the morning of this day. (4) Not for the first time I approached the water when it was dark, when you couldn’t even see a float on the water, which was barely beginning to absorb the very first, lightest lightening of the sky. (5) Everything was as if ordinary that morning: catching perch, a flock of which I attacked, and the pre-dawn chill rising from the river, and all the unique smells that arise in the morning where there is water, sedge, nettle, mint, meadow flowers and bitter willow. (6) And yet it was an extraordinary morning. (7) Scarlet clouds, round, as if tightly inflated, floated across the sky with the solemnity and slowness of swans. (8) Scarlet clouds floated along the river, coloring not only the water, not only the light steam above the water, but also the wide glossy leaves of the water lilies. (9) The white fresh flowers of the water lilies were like roses in the light of the burning morning. (10) Drops of red dew fell from a bent willow into the water, spreading red circles with a black shadow. (11) An old fisherman walked through the meadows, and in his hand a large caught fish blazed with red fire. (12) Haystacks, haystacks, a tree growing at a distance, a copse, an old man’s hut - everything was seen especially prominently, brightly, as if something had happened to our vision, and not the play of the great sun was the reason for the extraordinary nature of the morning. (13) The flame of the fire, so bright at night, was almost invisible now, and its pallor further emphasized the dazzlingness of the morning sparkle. (14) This is how I will forever remember those places along the bank of Koloksha where our morning dawn passed. (15) When, having eaten fish soup and fallen asleep again, caressed by the rising sun and slept well, we woke up three or four hours later, it was impossible to recognize the surroundings. (16) The sun, rising to its zenith, removed all shadows from the earth. (17) The contours and convexity of earthly objects disappeared; the fresh coolness, the burning of the dew, and its sparkle disappeared somewhere. (18) The meadow flowers faded, the water became dull, and in the sky, instead of bright and lush clouds, a smooth veil spread
6. 6. whitish haze. (19) There was an impression that a few hours ago we had magically visited a completely different, wonderful country, where there were scarlet lilies, and a red fish on an old man’s rope, and the grass shimmered with lights, and everything there was clearer, more beautiful, more precise, exactly... just like it happens in wonderful countries, where you get there solely through the power of fairy-tale magic. (20) How can I get back to this wondrous scarlet country? (21) After all, no matter how much later you come to the place where the Chernaya River meets the Koloksha River and where the town’s roosters crow behind the epic hill, you will not get where you want, as if you had forgotten the all-powerful magic word that moves forests and mountains apart. (22) No matter how much I later went fishing from Moscow to Koloksha, I could not get to that country and I realized that every morning, every spring, every love, every joy is unique in life for a person. (23) It was then that I remembered the most wondrous of all magical countries - the country of my childhood. (24) The keys to it are thrown so far away, lost so irretrievably, that you will never, never see even one trifling path for the rest of your life. (25) However, in that country there cannot be a trifling path. (26) Everything there is full of significance and meaning. (27) A person who has forgotten what was there and how it was there, a person who has even forgotten that it once was, is the poorest person on earth. (According to V. A. Soloukhin *) “A Drop of Dew” * Vladimir Alekseevich Soloukhin (1924-1997) - Russian Soviet writer and poet, a prominent representative of “ village prose" B. Ekimov. A story from the collection “Parents' Saturday.” Option 11. (1) Letters from Text. There was no need to wait for Maryana, our old nanny. (2) My father and I decided to visit her. (3) A well-kept nursing home for former party workers stood in a sparse suburban forest. (4) Maryana came out of the house to us with her usual joyful smile from ear to ear. (5) But only this wide smile and even the bearish clumsiness of her movements remained from the completely gray-haired nanny. (6) Moreover, as before, she grinded with her tongue without interruption. (7) It turned out that here she quickly got bored of sitting with her hands folded and she asked to be an assistant in the kitchen. (8) The servants had long ago guessed that Maryana did not belong to either the Soviet or party workers, but belonged to the category of complete simpletons, and they accepted the free worker into the kitchen without any delay. (9) The nanny was very pleased with her career. (10) -And then it came in handy! - she boasted, holding out her trembling hands in front of us. “(11) In the morning, with these hands I’ll peel a bag of potatoes... (12) Our ward is as big as a church,” she continued. - (13) For four. (14) But one grandmother died, and now the bed is walking around. (15) And it’s better for us, freer!..
7. 7. (16) In general, she was cheerful with all her might and was clearly trying to convince us how good and glorious her life was. (17) But I listened to her, and my heart sank, and for some reason my eyes did not want to look at Maryana. (18) It was felt: if we now offered her to leave this wonderful shelter with a perfectly organized life and go home with us, she would go to the car without hesitation. (19) Already when we were saying goodbye, promising to definitely visit her again, Maryana remembered one more thing. - (20) My pension is disappearing! - she said to her father with an everlasting smile. - (21) The nurses will hide the glasses from the grandmothers and take away the money. (22) What will you do? - she caught herself, realizing that she was casting a shadow on the reputation of her magnificent establishment. - (23) They are young, fast. (24) Tell them to deposit my pension in the bank. (25) And when they bury me in the ground,” here she, as before, tried to dashingly stamp her foot, “give this money to the smaller one. - (26) She meant my younger brother. (27) The father, also apparently slightly emotional from meeting Maryana, began to say that she would live another hundred years. (28) But something new and serious crossed the nanny’s face. (29) And she interrupted her father: - No... (30) At the end of the summer they called from the nursing home and reported the death of Maria Ivanovna Mikolutskaya. (31) It is unknown where she was buried. (32) None of us visited her grave. (33) And now you can no longer find this grave. (34) Lonely old women dying in nursing homes are not entitled to metal crosses or stone tombstones. (35) Most often they get a wooden peg with a plywood board on which the surname and dates of birth and death are carelessly written. (36) But after a year or two, rain and snow take away the ink inscription from the plywood, the peg falls, the grave mound settles, and no traces remain that anyone’s bones lie here, (37) What remains is simply the earth, from which each In the spring, night blindness, horse sorrel, burdocks and dandelions climb together. (38) Now it seems to me that this is how it should be. (39) What else could our nanny turn into if not into simple earth overgrown with grass? (40) So I tell myself and listen with suspicion to my own words: am I trying to calm my conscience? (According to B.P. Ekimov*) Boris Petrovich Ekimov (born in 1938) is a Russian prose writer and publicist. V. N. Krupin. Collection "Grains". Option 12. 1.The problem of destroying villages in Russia. What goals are pursued by those who exterminate villages in Russia? Is it possible to avoid the destruction of villages? The destruction of villages in Russia is associated with their economic lack of prospects. However, behind these supposed government decisions lies a real “invasion on Russia.” 2. The problem of the meaning of memory in human life. (What does memory give a person? What things should people not forget about?) A person must remember his past, his ancestors. He must sacredly honor traditions and be connected with his native land. 3. The problem of relationships between fathers and children. What is the duty of children to their parents? How should children treat their parents?) Children should respect their parents and not deprive them of their own spiritual world. Continuity of generations is the key to the future of Russia. 4. The problem of thoughtless execution of orders by officials. (How should orders be carried out? What should be the priority when executing?) Those who carry out orders must put at the forefront the interests of specific people, whose fates may depend on certain decisions. 5. The problem of meaning small homeland, native places in a person’s life. (Why do people like to live in
8. 8. grew up and live?) It is difficult for a person to leave the places in which he grew up, in which he lives and works, with which he has memories. Love for their home does not allow people to leave it. Text. (1) In the north of the Vyatka land, in the village of Pestovo, there was an incident that, perhaps it’s too late, but I want to tell you about. (2) When the so-called campaign to demolish villages began, the owner lived in a village about twelve kilometers from Pestov. (3) He lived as a bean. (4) After burying his wife, he never married again, went to the cemetery secretly from everyone, sat for a long time at his wife’s grave, and laid wild and forest flowers on the mound. (b) Their children were good, hard-working, they lived in their own homes, they lived well (now, of course, they are all ruined), they visited the old man constantly. (6) One day they announced to him that his village was among the unpromising, that he was being given an apartment in the central estate, and this village would be demolished and the arable land would be expanded. (7) That such a process is taking place throughout Russia. (8) “Think,” the sons said, “it’s impossible to build a road to every village, draw light, think like a state.” (9) The sons were young, it was easy to deceive them. (10) The old man understood in his heart: there was an invasion of Russia. (11) What an expansion of arable area there! (12) Chat! (13) Is it reasonable to drive tractors from the central estate ten to fifteen kilometers away? (14) What about grazing? (15) After all, everything near the central estate will be trampled down in one summer. (16) And most importantly - personal farms. (17) After all, they will already be - and have become - not near the houses, but at a distance. (18) You come home from work exhausted, and you still have to drag yourself to the plot, weed and water. (19) And what about mowing? (20) What about the living creatures? (21) The old man said nothing. (22) Left alone, he went out into the yard. (23) Almost everything that was in the yard, stables, barn - everything had to perish. (24) The old man looked at the instruments and felt that he was betraying them. (2b) He flooded the bathhouse, the old cracked stove smoked, it hurt his eyes, and the old man thought he was crying from the smoke. (26) Weeping and smeared with soot, he went to the cemetery. (27) The next day he announced to his sons that he would not go anywhere. (28) They said: “At least go and look at the apartment. After all, heating, after all, electricity, after all, plumbing!” (29) The old man flatly refused. (30) So he spent the winter. (31) In the spring the final order came out. (32) There was pressure from above: to make life easier for residents of unpromising villages, to expand arable land. land. (33) The old man was also affected. (34) Not only his sons, but also his superiors came to persuade him. (3b) And the boss came again. (36) He admonished: - You are a conscious person, think about it. (37) You are slowing down progress. (38) Your village is no longer on any maps. (39) The policy is such as to raise the Non-Black Earth Region. (40) But the sons, apparently, were firmly ordered to resolve something with their father. (41) They arrived on a tractor with a trailer and silently began to carry out and load the old man’s things: bedding, dishes, a wall mirror. (42) The old man was silent. (43) They approached him and announced that if he did not go, he would be taken away by force. (44) He didn’t believe it and began to break free. (4b) He decided to himself that he would live in the forest and dig a dugout. (46) The sons tied up their father: “Sorry, father,” they put him in a tractor cart and drove him away. (4 7) The old man shook his head and gritted his teeth. (48) The dog ran after the tractor, and halfway the cat escaped from the hands of one of the sons and ran back to the village. (49) The old man didn’t say a word to anyone else. (According to V.N. Krupin*) * Vladimir Nikolaevich Krunin (born in 1941) - Russian writer.
9. 9. Bogomolov Vladimir Maksimovich. Book "For the Defense of Stalingrad". Story “Flight of the Swallows” Option 15. Text. (1) Enemy bombers hovered over the Volga day and night. (2) They chased not only tugboats and self-propelled guns, but also fishing boats, small rafts - sometimes the wounded were transported onto them. (3) But the rivermen of the city and the military sailors of the Volga flotilla, in spite of everything, delivered cargo. (4) Once there was such a case... (5) They call Sergeant Smirnov to the command post and give him the task: to get to the other side and tell the army logistics chief that the troops will hold out at the central crossing for another night, and in the morning there will be nothing to repel enemy attacks. (6) There is an urgent need to deliver ammunition. (7) Somehow the sergeant got to the head of the rear and conveyed the order of the army commander, General Chuikov. (8) The soldiers quickly loaded a large barge and began to wait for the longboat. (9) They wait and think: “A powerful tug will come, pick up the barge and quickly throw it across the Volga.” (10) The soldiers look - an old steamboat flops, and it is named somehow inappropriately: “Swallow”. (11) The noise from it is so loud that you can plug your ears, and the speed is like that of a turtle. (12) “Hey,” they think, “you can’t even get to the middle of the river with this.” (13) However, the barge commander tried to calm the fighters: - (14) Don’t look that the steamer is slow. (l5) He transported more than one barge like ours. (16) “Swallow” has a fighting team. (17) “Swallow” approaches the barge. (18) The soldiers are watching, but there are only three people on the team: the captain, the mechanic and the girl. (19) Before the steamboat had time to approach the barge, the girl, the daughter of mechanic Grigoriev - Irina - deftly hooked the cable hook and shouted: - (20) Let's get a few people on the longboat, you will help fight off the Nazis! (21) Sergeant Smirnov and two soldiers jumped onto the deck, and “Swallow” dragged the barge. (22) As soon as we reached the stretch, German reconnaissance planes circled in the air, and rockets hung on parachutes over the crossing. (23) It became as bright as day around. (24)3 And the bombers flew in as scouts and began to dive first on the barge, then on the longboat. (25) The fighters hit the planes with rifles, the bombers almost hit the pipes and masts of the longboat with their wings. (26) On the right and left sides there are columns of water from bomb explosions. (27) After each explosion, the soldiers look around with alarm: “Are they really hit?!” (28) They look - the barge is moving towards the shore. (29) The captain of the “Swallow”, Vasily Ivanovich Krainov, an old Volgar, know that the steering wheel turns left and right, maneuvers - takes the longboat away from direct hits. (30) And that’s it - forward, to the shore. (31) German mortars spotted the steamboat and barge and also began firing from the shore. (32) Mines fly by with a howl, splash into the water, fragments whistle. (33) One mine hit the barge. (34) A fire started. (35) Flames ran across the deck.
10. 10. (36) What to do? (37) Cut the cable? (38) The fire is about to approach the boxes with shells. (39) But the captain of the longboat turned the helm sharply, and... “Swallow” began to approach the burning barge. (40) Somehow they moored to the high side, grabbed hooks, fire extinguishers, buckets of sand - and boarded the barge. (41) Irina is first, followed by the fighters. (42) They sprinkle fire on the deck and knock it off the boxes. (43) And no one thinks that every moment any box can explode. (44) The soldiers took off their greatcoats and pea coats and covered the flames with them. (45) Fire burns hands and faces. (46) Stuffy. (47) Smoke. (48) It’s difficult to breathe. (49) But the soldiers and crew of the “Swallow” turned out to be stronger than the fire - the ammunition was saved and delivered to the shore. (50) All the longboats and boats of the Volga Flotilla had so many such voyages that they couldn’t be counted. (51) Heroic flights. (According to V.M. Bogomolov*) *Vladimir Maksimovich. Bogomolov (1924-1999) - Russian Soviet writer. B. Vasiliev. "My horses are flying." Option 16 The book “Moikoni Are Flying...” is the writer’s memoirs about a long and difficult life, about meetings with amazing people (including Dr. Jansen) and events in the country. The documentary stories that make up the book are written in a journalistic (or artistic-journalistic) style, which is characterized by imagery, emotionality, evaluativeness and appeal, using such linguistic means as epithets, comparisons, metaphors, exclamatory sentences. The essay about Dr. Jansen combines two types of speech: narrative (first, third, fourth, fifth, sixth and seventh paragraphs) and reasoning (second and eighth paragraphs). Text. (1) I already vaguely remember this stooped, thin man, who all my life seemed to me like an old man. (2) Leaning on a large umbrella, he tirelessly walked from dawn to dusk across the vast area, which included the sloppily built-up Pokrovskaya Mountain. (3) This was a poor area, cab drivers did not come here, and Dr. Jansen didn’t even have money for them. (4) And there were tireless legs, great patience and duty. (5) The unpaid debt of an intellectual to his people. (6) And the doctor wandered around a good quarter of the provincial city of Smolensk without days off and without holidays, because illness also knew neither holidays nor days off, and Doctor Jansen fought for human lives. (7) In winter and summer, in slush and blizzard, day and night. (8) Doctor Jansen looked at his watch only when counting the pulse, hurried to the patient and never rushed away from him, without refusing carrot tea or a cup of chicory, slowly and thoroughly explained how to care for the patient, and was never late . (9) At the entrance to the house, he shook off dust, snow or raindrops for a long time - depending on the season - and upon entering, he headed to the stove. (10) Carefully warming his flexible, long, gentle fingers, he quietly asked how the illness began, what the patient was complaining about, and what measures the family took. (11) And he went to the patient, only having warmed his hands well. (12) His touches were always pleasant, and I still remember them with all my skin.
11. 11. (13) Dr. Jansen’s medical and human authority was higher than can be imagined in our time. (14) Having already lived my life, I dare to say that such authorities arise spontaneously, crystallizing by themselves in a saturated solution of human gratitude. (15) They go to people who have the rare gift of living not for themselves, not thinking about themselves, not caring about themselves, never deceiving anyone and always telling the truth, no matter how bitter it may be. (16) Such people cease to be only specialists: people’s grateful rumor ascribes to them wisdom bordering on holiness. (17) And Doctor Jansen did not avoid this: they asked him whether to marry his daughter, whether to buy a house, whether to sell firewood, whether to slaughter a goat, whether to reconcile with his wife... (18) They asked him what! (19) I don’t know what advice the doctor gave in each individual case, but all the children he knew were fed the same in the morning: porridge, milk and black bread. (20) True, the milk was different. (21) Just like bread, water and childhood. (22) Doctor Jansen suffocated in a sewer while saving children. (23) He knew that he had little chance of getting out of there, but did not waste time counting. (24) There were children below, and that was everything. (25) In those days, the city center already had a sewer system that was constantly bursting, and then deep wells were dug. (26) A gate with a bucket was installed above the wells, which was used to pump out leaked wastewater. (27) The procedure was lengthy, the workers in one shift could not manage, everything froze until the morning, and then we boys took possession of the tub and the collar and went for a ride. (28) Usually one of us stood on the tub, and two of us turned the gate. (29) But one day we decided to go for a ride together, and the rope broke. (30) It was impossible to breathe below, because the air was oversaturated with methane. (31) Doctor Jansen appeared when two guys were rushing around near the well. (32) Having sent them for help, the doctor immediately went down into the well, found the boys who had already lost consciousness, managed to pull one out and, without resting, climbed for the second. (33) He went down, realized that he could not get up again, tied the boy to a piece of rope and lost consciousness. (34) The boys came to their senses quickly, but Dr. Jansen could not be saved. (35) This is how a quiet, neat, very modest and middle-aged man with the most humane and peaceful of all professions died, paying for the lives of two boys at the cost of his life. (According to B.L. Vasiliev*) * Boris Lvovich. Vasiliev (1924-2013) - Russian writer. B. Ekimov. “Speak, mother, speak...” Text. (1) Grandma Katerina, a withered old woman, hunchbacked from age, could not get ready to leave. (2) In recent years, she has gone to spend the winter with her daughter in the city. (3) Age: it is difficult to light the stove every day and carry water from the well. (4) Through mud and ice. (5) If you fall, you will hurt yourself, (6) And who will lift you up? (7) But it’s not easy to part with a farm, with a nest. (8) And my soul ached for the house. (9) Who will you leave it with? (10) So I was thinking: to go, not to go? (l1) And then they brought a telephone for help - a “mobile”. (12) They explained for a long time about the buttons: which ones to press and which ones not to touch. (13) My daughter usually called from the city in the morning. (14) Cheerful music will sing and the light will flash in the box.
12. 12. - (15) Mom, hello! (16)Are you okay? (17) Well done. (18) Any questions? (19) That’s good. (20) Kisses. (21) Be, be. (22) Before you know it, the light has already gone out, the box has fallen silent. (23) And here, that is, in the life of the farm, the old man, there was a lot of things that I wanted to talk about. - (24) Mom, can you hear me? - (25) I hear! .. (26) Is that you, daughter? (27) And the voice doesn’t seem to be yours. (28) Are you sick? (29) Look, dress warmly. (30)3Take care of your health. “(31) Mom,” came a stern voice from the phone. - (32) Speak to the point. (33) We explained: tariff. “(34) Forgive me for Christ’s sake,” the old woman came to her senses. (35) After all, she was warned when the phone was delivered that it was expensive and she needed to talk briefly about the most important thing, (36) But what is the main thing in life? (37) Especially among old people... (38) Another day has passed. (39) And in the morning it was slightly frosty. (40) The trees, bushes and dry grasses stood in light white fluffy frost. (41) Old Katerina, going out into the courtyard, looked around at this beauty, rejoicing, but she should have looked down at her feet. (42) She walked and walked, stumbled, fell, painfully hitting the rhizome of a pear... (43) The day started awkwardly and never went well. (44) As always in the morning, the mobile phone lit up and began to sing. - (45) 3hello, my daughter, hello. (46) Just the title that she’s alive. (47) “I hit myself so hard today,” she complained. - (48) Either my leg turned upside down, or maybe it was slippery. (49) In the yard, I went to open the gate, and there was a pear... (50) I’m making compote for you from it. (51) You love him. (52) Otherwise I would have removed it long ago. (53) Near this pear... - (54) Mom, please be more specific. (55) About myself, not about the pear. (56) Don’t forget that this is a mobile phone, a tariff. (57) What hurts? (58) Didn’t you break anything? - (59) It seems that she didn’t break it, - the old woman understood everything. - (60) Attached a cabbage leaf. (61) That’s where the conversation with my daughter ended. (62) I had to explain the rest to myself. (63) And from different thoughts the old woman even cried, scolding herself: “Why are you crying? ..” (64) But I cried. (65) And the tears seemed to make me feel better. (66) And at an inopportune lunch hour, quite unexpectedly, music started playing and the mobile phone lit up. (67) The old woman was scared. - (68) Daughter, daughter, what happened? (69) Who didn’t get sick? (70) Don’t hold your heart against me, daughter. (71) I know that the phone is expensive, it’s a lot of money. (72) But I really almost killed myself... (73) From afar, many kilometers away, my daughter’s voice was heard. - (74) Speak, mother, speak... - (75) Sorry, my daughter. (76) Do you hear me?.. (77) In a distant city, the daughter heard her and even saw, closing her eyes, her old mother: small, bent, in a white scarf. (78) I saw it, but suddenly felt how unsteady and unreliable it all was: telephone communication, vision. “(79)Speak, mother,” she asked and was afraid of only one thing: suddenly this voice and this life would end, and perhaps forever. - (80) Speak, mother, speak... (According to B.P. Ekimov *) 6) colloquial vocabulary 7) dialogue 8) rhetorical question 9) a number of homogeneous members
13. 13. F. Abramov. Option 18 Author's position 1. The problem of the influence of the Russian village on the spiritual and cultural life of the people. (What is the role of the Russian village in the formation of our historical roots, in the spiritual culture and life of our people?) 1. The village is our origins, our roots, this is the mother’s womb, where our national character, a special type of Russian person, worker and warrior, was born and developed , thanks to whose work and feat we live today. Together with the Russian village, our centuries-old culture and historical roots are disappearing today. 2. The problem of preserving and protecting the enduring values ​​of spiritual culture, historical roots, historical memory. (How should one treat the cultural values ​​accumulated by the people?) 2. It is necessary to preserve not only nature and material values, but also the enduring values ​​of spiritual culture accumulated by centuries of folk experience. Russian literature plays a vital role in this. 3. The problem of determining the role of literature. (What is the role of literature?) 3. The tasks of literature are to comprehend and retain the spiritual experience of people of older generations, that moral potential, those moral forces who did not allow Russia to collapse during the years of its most difficult trials; to warn young people against the danger of spiritual hardening, to help them assimilate and enrich the spiritual baggage accumulated by previous generations. 4. The problem of the meaning of the image of a Russian peasant woman in the literature of the 60-70s of the 20th century. (What is the significance of the image of the Russian peasant woman, created in the works of Russian literature of the 60-70s of the XX century?) 4. The images of Russian peasant women capture the best features of the national character, the soul of our people, endless dedication, a heightened conscience and sense of duty, the ability to self-restraint and compassion, love for work, for the earth and for all living things. 5. The problem of determining the role of Russian women in the Great Patriotic War. (What is the role of the Russian woman in the Great Patriotic War?) 5. During the years of the last war, the Russian woman accomplished a great feat. She “opened a second front”, bore all the hardships and pain of loss on her shoulders; during the long war years she fed and clothed the country. Text. (1) The old village with its thousand-year history is disappearing into oblivion today. (2) And this means that centuries-old foundations are crumbling, that centuries-old soil on which all of ours has grown is disappearing. national culture: its ethics and aesthetics, its folklore and literature, its miracle language. (3) The village is our origins, our roots. (4) The village is the mother’s womb, where our national character was born and developed. (5) And today, when the old village is living out its last days, we look with new, special, heightened attention at the type of person that was created by it, we look at our mothers and fathers, grandfathers and grandmothers. (6) Oh, they had a few kind words! (7) But it is on them, on the shoulders of these nameless workers and warriors, that the building of our entire life today stands firmly! (8) Let us recall, for example, only one feat of a Russian woman in the last war. (9) After all, it was she, the Russian woman, who, with her superhuman work, opened her second front back in forty-one, the front that the Red Army so craved. (10) And how, by what measure, can we measure the feat of that same Russian woman in the post-war period, in those times when she, often hungry, naked and barefoot, fed and clothed the country, and with the true patience and resignation of a Russian peasant woman bore her heavy cross soldier widows, mothers of sons killed in the war! (11) So is it surprising that the old peasant woman in our literature has temporarily pushed aside, and sometimes even overshadowed, other characters? (12) Let us remember “Matryonin’s Dvor” by A. Solzhenitsyn, “The Last Term” by V. Rasputin, the heroines of V. Shukshin, A. Astafiev and V. Belov. (13) This is not an idealization of village life and not longing for the fading hut-like Rus', as some critics and writers broadcast with thoughtless ease and arrogance, but our filial, albeit belated, gratitude. (14) This is the desire to comprehend and retain the spiritual experience of people of the older generation, that moral potential, those moral forces that did not allow Russia to collapse during the years of the most difficult trials. (15) Yes, these heroines are illiterate, naive and overly gullible, but what spiritual treasures, what spiritual light! (16) Endless dedication, a heightened Russian conscience and sense of duty, the ability for self-restraint and compassion, love for work, for the land and for all living things - you can’t list everything.
14. 14. (17) But unfortunately, a modern young man, raised in other, more favorable conditions, does not always inherit these vital qualities. (18)And one of the most important tasks modern literature- to warn young people against the danger of spiritual hardening, to help them assimilate and enrich the spiritual baggage accumulated by previous generations. (19)V Lately We talk a lot about preserving the natural environment and monuments of material culture. (20) Isn’t it time to raise with the same energy and pressure the question of the preservation and protection of the enduring values ​​of spiritual culture accumulated by centuries of folk experience... (According to F.A. Abramov *) * Fyodor Aleksandrovich Abramov (1920-1983) - Russian writer, literary critic, publicist; one of the most prominent representatives of “village prose” - a significant trend in Soviet literature of the 1960-1980s. Anton Pavlovich Chekhov - “In the Pharmacy”. Option 26 Text. (1) It was late evening. (2) Home teacher Yegor Alekseich Svoikin, in order not to waste time, went straight from the doctor to the pharmacy. (3) Standing behind a yellow, shiny desk was a tall gentleman with his head thrown back solidly, a stern face and well-groomed sideburns, apparently a pharmacist. (4) Starting from the small bald spot on his head and ending with his long pink nails, everything on this man was carefully ironed, cleaned and as if licked. (5) His frowning eyes looked down on the newspaper lying on the desk. (6) He read. (7) Svoykin went up to the desk and handed the ironed gentleman the recipe. (8) He, without looking at him, took the recipe, read to the point in the newspaper and, making a slight half-turn of his head to the right, muttered: “It will be ready in an hour.” - (9) Isn’t it possible to hurry up? - asked Svoykin, - (10) It is absolutely impossible for me to wait. (11) The pharmacist did not answer. (12) Svoykin sat down on the sofa and began to wait. (13) Svoykin was sick. (14) His mouth was burning, there were nagging pains in his legs and arms, and foggy images like clouds and shrouded human figures wandered through his heavy head. (15) Frustration and brain fog took over his body more and more, and in order to cheer himself up, he decided to talk to the pharmacist. - (16) I must be starting to have a fever. (17) My other happiness is that I got sick in the capital! (18) God forbid such a misfortune occurs in a village where there are no doctors or pharmacies! (19) The pharmacist did not respond to Svoykin’s address to him either in word or movement, as if he had not heard. (20) Having not received an answer to his question, Svoykin began to examine the stern, arrogantly learned physiognomy of the pharmacist. “(21) Strange people, by God! - he thought. - (22) In a healthy state, you don’t notice these dry, callous faces, but when you get sick, like I am now, you’ll be horrified that a holy cause has fallen into the hands of this insensitive ironing figure.” - (23) Get it! - the pharmacist finally said, without looking at Svoykin. (24) Deposit a ruble and six kopecks into the cash register! - (25) A ruble and six kopecks? - Svoykin muttered, embarrassed. - (26) And I only have one ruble... (27) What can I do? - (28) I don’t know! - the pharmacist said, starting to read the newspaper. - (29) In that case, you'll excuse me... (30) I'll bring you six kopecks tomorrow or send you in the end.
15. 15. - (31) This is impossible! (32) Go home, bring six kopecks, then you’ll get your medicine! (33) Svoykin left the pharmacy and went to his home. (34) While the teacher got to his room, he sat down to rest about five times. (35) Arriving at his place and finding several copper coins in the table, he sat down on the bed to rest. (36) Some force pulled his head towards the pillow. (37) He lay down, as if for a minute. (38) Foggy images in the form of clouds and shrouded figures began to cloud my consciousness. (39) For a long time he remembered that he needed to go to the pharmacy, for a long time he forced himself to get up, but the illness took its toll. (40) Coppers spilled out of his fist, and the patient began to dream that he had already gone to the pharmacy and was again talking with the pharmacist there. (According to A.P. Chekhov*) * Anton Pavlovich. Chekhov (1860-1904) - an outstanding Russian writer, a classic of world literature. Lev Kassil. The story "The Green Branch". Option 31 Text. (1) On the Western Front, I had to live for some time in the dugout of technician-quartermaster Tarasnikov. (2) He worked in the operational part of the headquarters of the guards brigade. (3) Right there, in the dugout, his office was located. (4) All day long he wrote and sealed packages, sealed them with sealing wax heated over a lamp, sent out some reports, accepted papers, redrew maps, tapped with one finger on a rusty typewriter, carefully knocking out each letter. (5) One evening, when I returned to our hut, thoroughly wet in the rain, and squatted in front of the stove to light it, Tarasnikov got up from the table and came up to me. “(6) I, you see,” he said somewhat guiltily, “decided not to light the stoves for the time being.” (7) Otherwise, you know, the stove gives off fumes, and this, apparently, is reflected in its growth. (8) She stopped growing completely. - (9) Who stopped growing? - (10) Haven’t you paid attention yet? - Tarasnikov shouted, staring at me with indignation. - (11) What is this? (12) Don't you see? (12) And he looked with sudden tenderness at the low log ceiling of our dugout. (14) I stood up, raised the lamp and saw that a thick round elm tree in the ceiling had sprouted a green sprout. (15) Pale and tender, with unsteady leaves, it stretched up to the ceiling. (16) In two places it was supported by white ribbons pinned to the ceiling with buttons. - (17) Do you understand? - Tarasnikov spoke. - (18) Growing all the time. (19) Such a glorious branch sprang up. (20) And then you and I began to drown often, but she apparently didn’t like it. (21) Here I made notches on the log, and I have the dates stamped on it. (22) You see how quickly it grew at first. (23) Some days I pulled out two centimeters. (24) I give you my honest, noble word! (25) And since you and I began to smoke here, I haven’t seen any growth for three days now. (26) So she won’t fade away for long. (27) Let's abstain. (28) And, you know, I’m interested: will he get to the exit? (29) After all, it is drawn closer to the air, where the sun is, smelled from underground. (30) And we went to bed in an unheated, damp dugout. (31) The next day I myself started talking to him about his twig.
16. 16. - (32) Imagine, she stretched out almost one and a half centimeters. (33) I told you, there is no need to drown. (34) This natural phenomenon is simply amazing! ... (35) At night, the Germans brought down massive artillery fire on our location. (36) I woke up from the roar of nearby explosions, spitting out earth, which, due to the shaking, fell abundantly on us through the log ceiling. (37) Tarasnikov also woke up and turned on the light bulb. (38) Everything was hooting, trembling and shaking around us. (39) Tarasnikov put the light bulb in the middle of the table, leaned back on the bed, putting his hands behind his head: - (40) I think there is no great danger. (41) Won't it hurt her? (42) Of course, it’s a concussion, but there are three waves above us. (43) Is it just a direct hit? (44) And, you see, I tied it up. (45) As if he had a presentiment... (46) I looked at him with interest. (47) He lay with his head thrown back on his hands behind the back of his head, and looked with tender care at the weak green sprout curling under the ceiling. (48) He simply forgot, apparently, that a shell could fall on us, explode in the dugout, and bury us alive underground. (49) No, he only thought about the pale green branch stretching under the ceiling of our hut. (50) He was only worried about her. (51) And often now, when I meet demanding, very busy, dry and callous at first glance, seemingly unfriendly people at the front and in the rear, I remember the technician-quartermaster Tarasnikov and his green branch. (52) Let the fire roar overhead, let the dank dampness of the earth penetrate into the very bones, all the same - as long as the timid, shy green sprout survives, if only it reaches the sun, the desired exit. (53) And it seems to me that each of us has our own treasured green branch. (54) For her sake, we are ready to endure all the ordeals and hardships of the wartime, because we know for sure: there, behind the exit, hung today with a damp raincoat, the sun will certainly meet, warm and give new strength to our branch that has reached out, grown and saved. (According to L.A. Kassil*) * Lev Abramovich Kassil (1905-1970) - a prominent Russian prose writer, one of the founders of Russian children's and youth literature. Prishvin "Blue Dragonfly". During that First World War in 1914, I went to the front as a war correspondent dressed as a medical orderly and soon found myself in a battle in the west in the Augustow Forests. I wrote down all my impressions in my brief way, but I confess that not for one minute did the feeling of personal uselessness and the impossibility of my words catch up with the terrible things that were happening around me. I walked along the road towards war and played with death: a shell stomped, exploding a deep crater, then a bullet buzzed like a bee, but I still walked, curiously looking at the flocks of partridges flying from battery to battery. “You’re crazy,” a stern voice from underground told me. I looked and saw the head of Maxim Maksimych: his bronze face with a gray mustache was stern and almost solemn. At the same time, the old captain managed to express to me both sympathy and patronage. A minute later, I was slurping down his cabbage soup from the dugout. Soon, when the matter heated up, he shouted to me: “How come you, you such-and-such a writer, aren’t you ashamed to be busy with your trifles at such moments?” - What should I do? - I asked, very pleased with his decisive tone. - Run immediately, pick up those people, order them to drag benches out of the school, pick up and lay down the wounded... I lifted people, dragged benches, laid down the wounded, forgot all about the writer, and suddenly I finally felt like a real person, I was so happy that I was here, in the war, not only a writer. At this time, one dying man whispered to me: - Here’s some water... At the first word of the wounded man, I ran to the factory. But he didn’t drink and repeated to me: “Water, water, stream…” I looked at him in amazement, and suddenly I understood everything: he was almost a boy with sparkling eyes, with thin, trembling lips that reflected the trembling of his soul.
17. 17. The orderly and I took a stretcher and carried him to the bank of the stream. The orderly left, I was left eye to eye with the dying boy on the bank of the forest stream. In the slanting rays of the evening sun, a special green light, as if emanating from the inside of the plants, shone with minaret leaves, kelp leaves, water lilies, and a blue dragonfly circled above the creek. And very close to us, where the creek ended, the streams of the stream, uniting on the pebbles, sang their usual beautiful song. The wounded man listened, closing his eyes, his bloodless lips convulsively moved, expressing a strong struggle. And the struggle ended with a sweet childish smile, and my eyes opened. “Thank you,” he whispered. Seeing a blue dragonfly flying in the creek, he smiled again, said thank you again, and closed his eyes again. Some time passed in silence, when suddenly the lips moved again, a new struggle arose, and I heard: “What, is she still flying?” The blue dragonfly was still spinning. “It flies,” I answered, “and how!” He smiled again and fell into oblivion. Meanwhile, little by little it became dark, and with my thoughts I too flew far away and became forgotten. When suddenly I heard him ask: “Is he still flying?” “It flies,” I said, without looking, without thinking. - Why don’t I see? - he asked, opening his eyes with difficulty. I was afraid. I once happened to see a dying man who suddenly lost his sight before his death, and he still spoke to us quite reasonably. Isn’t that the case here too: his eyes died earlier. Noah himself looked at the place where the dragonfly was flying, but saw nothing. The patient realized that I had deceived him, was upset by my lack of attention, and silently closed his eyes. I felt pain, and suddenly I saw the reflection of a flying dragonfly in the clear water. We could not notice it against the background of the darkening forest, but these eyes of the earth remain light even when it gets dark: these eyes seem to see in the darkness. - It flies, it flies! - I exclaimed so decisively, so joyfully that the patient immediately opened his eyes. And I showed him the reflection. And he smiled. I will not describe how we saved this wounded man - apparently, the doctors saved him. But I firmly believe: they, the doctors, were helped by the song of the streams and my decisive and excited words because the blue dragonfly flew over the creek in the dark. Soloukhin Vladimir. The story "White Grass". Option 32. Text. (1) On our river there are such deaf and secluded places, that when you make your way through tangled forest thickets, also filled with nettles, and sit down near the water, you will feel as if you are in a world fenced off from the rest of the earthly space. (2) At the most crude, superficial glance, this world consists of only two parts: greenery and water. (3) Let us now increase our attention drop by drop. (4) At the same time, almost simultaneously with water and greenery, we will see that, no matter how narrow the river is, no matter how densely the branches are intertwined over its bed, yet the sky takes no small part in the creation of our little
18. 18. peace. (5) It is sometimes gray when it is still the earliest dawn, sometimes gray-pink, sometimes bright red - before the solemn emergence of the sun, sometimes golden, sometimes golden-blue and, finally, blue, as it should be at the height of a clear summer day. (6) In the next moment of attention, we will already discern that what seemed to us just greenery is not just greenery at all, but something detailed and complex. (7) And in fact, if we were to stretch an even green canvas near the water, then there would be wondrous beauty, then we would exclaim: “Earthly grace!” (8) Passionate fisherman Anton Pavlovich Chekhov was not so right when he said that while fishing, bright, good thoughts come to mind. (9) Looking at the white lush piles of flowers, I often thought about the absurdity of the situation. (10) I grew up on this river, they taught me something at school. (11) I see these flowers every time, and I don’t just see them, I distinguish them from all other flowers. (12) But ask me what they are called - I don’t know, for some reason I have never heard their names from other people who also grew up here. (13) Dandelion, chamomile, cornflower, plantain, bellflower, lily of the valley - we still have enough for that. (14) We can still call these plants by name. (15) However, maybe I’m the only one who doesn’t know? (l6) No, no matter who I asked in the village, showing white flowers, everyone shrugged: - Who knows! (17) There are plenty of them growing: both on the river and in forest ravines. (18) What are they called? (19) What do you care? (20) Actually, I would say, we are a little indifferent to everything that surrounds us on earth. (21) No, no, of course, we often say that we love nature: these copses, and hills, and fontanelles, and fire-filled, warm summer sunsets halfway across the sky. (22) And, of course, collect a bouquet of flowers, and, of course, listen to the singing of the birds, to their chirping in the golden forest tops at a time when the forest itself is still full of dark green, almost black coolness. (23) Well, go mushroom picking, and fish, and just lie on the grass, looking up at the floating clouds. (24) “Listen, what is the name of the grass on which you are now lying so thoughtlessly and so blissfully?” - (25) “That is, how is it like? (26) Well there... some wheatgrass or dandelion.” - (27) “What kind of wheatgrass is this? (28) Take a closer look. (29) In the place that you occupied with your body, about two dozen different herbs grow, and each of them is interesting in some way: either for their way of life, or for their healing properties for humans. (30) However, this seems to be a subtlety incomprehensible to our minds. (31) Let at least the experts know about this. (32) But, of course, it wouldn’t hurt to know the names.” (33) Of the two hundred and fifty species of mushrooms that grow everywhere in our forests, from April to frost (by the way, almost all of them are edible, with the exception of only a few species), we know by sight and by name hardly a fourth. (34) I’m not talking about birds. (35) Who can confirm for me which of these two birds is a mockingbird, which is a wren, and which is a pied flycatcher? (36) Someone, of course, will confirm, but everyone? (37) But is it every third, but is it every fifth - that is the question! (According to V. Soloukhin).