The story of Ekimov's night of healing. Extracurricular reading lesson based on story B
And they said everything passes
And will be forgotten in due time.
But the pain of war is alive among the people
And it ferments like juice in a birch.
S. Seleznev
Class type: literature lesson on modern domestic prose
Technology: problem-based learning.
Model: personal.
Goal setting:
Formation of fragment analysis skills artwork
Formation and expansion of knowledge about ideological sense work of art: revealing the meaning of the title of the work and comprehending moral lessons included in the content of the story.
Development of skills of argumentation of one's own point of view, discussion skills, development of a culture of communication.
Cause an emotional response to the work, bring students to comprehension tragic fate a person during the Great Patriotic War, to evoke the desire to treat a suffering person humanely, to teach warmth towards helpless old age, to share someone else's pain.
During the classes
1. Greeting
2. introduction teachers:
Today in class extracurricular reading we will talk about people who need our attention, our care. About people who survived the war, went through a long life path experienced difficulties, and now often feel forgotten and alone. This topic is especially relevant in the year of the 68th anniversary of the Victory of our people in the Great Patriotic War. Boris Ekimov's story "The Night of Healing" speaks of the war not directly, but indirectly. The work is based on the inner drama of the heroine, connected with the experience during the long-ended war. Among the already few front-line soldiers awarded military decorations, we see women. Without them, there would be no Victory. These are women who, having shouldered the whole burden of men's work, also brought our Victory closer. It was they who saved the children and preserved their homes and families. Here's what and more short story Boris Ekimov "Night of Healing".
3. Writing in notebooks the date, topic of the lesson, epigraph.
Before analyzing the story, let's listen to a report about the writer Boris Ekimov himself, our contemporary.
4. Interview of trained students:
Tell us about yourself, your roots.
I was born on November 19, 1938, in far northern Igarka, Krasnoyarsk Territory where my parents - fur specialists - came to work. My father, Pyotr Alexandrovich, soon fell seriously ill and died in May 1939, in Irkutsk, in his homeland. My mother, Antonina Alekseevna, but soon left for Kazakhstan, to the Ili station, not far from Alma-Ata, where her own sister, my aunt, Anna Alekseevna, the wife of the “enemy of the people”, was sent with her young son. The sisters decided to live together. And they lived their whole lives. So my second mother is Aunt Nyura. Her husband, fortunately, returned alive from the camp, and at the end of the war they allowed us to return to Russia, without the right to live in regional centers. So I ended up in the village of Kalach-on-Don, Volgograd region, the former region of the Don army, from the Don Cossacks. This is where I live in the warm season.
Did you start reading early?
Yes, four years. But not because the family was so educated. I don't remember my father, he died when I was very young. And my mother was not up to reading. It's just a happy accident: a neighbor girl taught me to read.
What was your favorite thing you read as a child?
Fairy tales. Notes of travelers, "Dersu Uzala". Historical narratives. Before I fell in love with something, I still had to read a lot, and then there was reading everything. Books were consumed quite spontaneously. Speaking of shock, this is, of course, a Russian classic. But she came later. At school, they rather fought off love for her, and everything turned out not in joy. Now, sometimes visiting schools, I meet excellent teachers. We have a teacher of literature in Volgograd, Inna Markelova. She recently invited me to her school, and I was pleased to talk with the guys. Their level, it seems to me, is higher than that of the students of our university, where I also visited.
And how do you feel about the talk that children do not read anything and the book is dying?
It is not true. There is such an Italian-Russian literary prize"Penne - Moscow". A venerable jury selects three authors, and half a thousand young readers - schoolchildren and students - read all the works selected for the competition for three months. Then they get together and vote. I had the honor of being the laureate of this award, and after that I went to Moscow schools and talked to the kids.
What was asked?
About everything. Both about the book and about life. After all, a book is life. I remember how one boy after the meeting said: “Thank you for your optimism. They try to convince us all the time that we live in a lost time, and we all - lost generation". And I just reminded them: my dears, how lost you are if you are alive.
It turns out that such simple words no one to tell the kids.
Real literature always says this, and does not get tired of repeating it, and must repeat it. Here is "War and Peace" on my desk. Remember the scene where Andrei Bolkonsky on the field of Austerlitz thinks: they want to kill me so that I don’t see this sky. And a few pages later - Nikolai Rostov: how I want to live, but they want to kill me. All real literature- about it. Otherwise, there is no point in writing.
What drivesa person who decides to choose a professionthis writer?
Someone said that every good literature is longing for good man. Literature should encourage good thinking and creation, and it is born, probably, when a person sees and wants to say that humanity can live much better. For example, from century to century people complain about poverty. Rarely spiritual. More often than not, there is not enough "gold". But a person needs very little: bread and water. But to understand this wisdom is not enough. Although even Christ taught: "Live like the birds of God."
Academician Legasov was once asked why planes began to fall and ships sink so often in our country. He said Great words: "We raised Gagarin on the shoulders of Pushkin and Tolstoy, and now there is no such basis." We rose above all on the achievements of Russian culture. And now we are trying to reject it.
When mathematician Nikita Moiseev, also an academician, was asked what needs to be changed in our school, he replied: “We need to increase the number of literature lessons.” Because first of all you need to be a man, and then a mathematician, a physicist. And if there is no soul, no culture, neither physics, nor mathematics, nor a tractor driver will turn out. Literature is engaged in this - the creation of the soul. Sometimes it works...
What is literature for you?
All real literature about human life. There are no other topics in the literature. My heroes live around me and in me. And the tree is my hero, and the sky. The writer must see everything that surrounds him more sharply than others, and try to be a wise person who understands that all the beauty that surrounds him is transitory. He must appreciate everything: the smile of nature, a tree, a woman. We were given a beautiful, wonderful, but very short life. It has a lot happy days, minutes, moments. But how often do we notice them? Cherry blossom, apple tree, dandelion; flight of a butterfly, dragonfly; taste of well, spring water; the babbling of a child, the radiance of his eyes; the smile of a loved one (not necessarily a young one); rain and thunder; the quiet lake Nekrasikha and the mighty Don; the night sky and the morning dawn... The world of God and the human world in all its fullness and beauty. Is this not enough? But, unfortunately, it is said about us: “I was in the world, but I didn’t know the world” ...
5. Story analysis
- What is the story "Night of Healing" about? Who would you call the main character of the story?
(From the story we learn about an old woman Dunya and her grandson Grisha, about how the grandson found a way to heal his grandmother from terrible dreams, because of which she suffered a lot.
The main character of the work is Grisha, since it is he who changes during the story, he grows up, becomes wiser. Grandma, of course important character, but it is from her grandson that she receives the help she so desperately needs.)
- What impression did the story make on you, what feelings did you experience while reading?
(For the first time I thought about the fact that maybe my loved ones need my help.
I was afraid that the war still torments people.
I felt sorry for lonely people who have no loved ones, and relieved when Grisha was able to heal his grandmother.)
Yes, Boris Ekimov raises very important issues in his story: a humane attitude towards a suffering person, teaches him to warmly relate to helpless old age, to share someone else's pain. Thus, the writer speaks of mercy.
- How do you understand the words "mercy", "compassion"?
(Mercy is the willingness to help or forgive out of compassion, philanthropy.
Compassion - pity, sympathy, caused by someone's misfortune, grief.
(“Dictionary of the Russian language” by S.I. Ozhegov)
- Mercy and compassion is one of the major topics Russian literature. Let's turn to the text.
- Baba Dunya lives alone. What does loneliness mean for an older person?
(She feels abandoned, sometimes even useless.)
- What has changed in the life of grandmother Dunya with the arrival of her grandson?
("... Baba Dunya, having revived at once, briskly fussed around the house: she cooked cabbage soup, made pies, took out jams and compotes and looked out the window if Grisha was running." Even when Grisha ran away with the guys to go skiing, and Baba Dunya was left alone , "... it was not loneliness. The grandson's shirt was lying on the sofa, his books were on the table, the bag was thrown at the threshold - everything was out of place, at odds. And the house was filled with a lively spirit."
“Today, with Grisha’s arrival, she forgot about the illness.”)
We can say that before the arrival of her grandson, the grandmother experienced loneliness. Pay attention to the words "alone", "lonely", "loneliness". Why does the author repeat these cognate words?
(“One” - without others, separately.
- "Lonely" - not having a family, loved ones.
- "Loneliness" - the state of a lonely person.
And this condition is not only physical, but also spiritual. It can be experienced when there are people around, but no one who is close in spirit.)
But we know that Baba Dunya has a family. Grisha's parents live in the city. Why did she rarely visit them?
(“The son and daughter built a nest in the city and rarely ran into - well, if once a year. Baba Dunya visited them no more often and returned to the house in an ordinary evening. On the one hand, she was afraid for the hut: whatever it was, but the household, with another…
The second reason was more important: for some time now Baba Dunya had been sleeping uneasily, talking, and even screaming in her sleep. In your hut, at home, make noise at least for the whole White light. Who will hear! But on a visit ... As soon as they lie down and fall asleep, Baba Dunya will mutter, she will speak out loud. He convinces someone, asks so clearly in the silence of the night, and then shouts: “Good people! Save!!" Of course, everyone wakes up - they will give valerian and disperse. And an hour later the same thing: “Forgive me for Christ's sake! Sorry!!")
- How did Baba Dunya, close to the disease, feel?
(“Of course, everyone understood that old age and the unsweetened life that Baba Dunya had led were to blame. With war and famine. They understood, but that didn’t make it any easier. .
They took her to the doctors. They prescribed medicines. Nothing helped.
And Baba Dunya began to go to the children less and less, and then only an ordinary thing: she would shake for two hours on the bus, ask about her health and return.
And to her, parental home, came only on vacation, in the summer.
One understanding of the "disease" was not enough, this should not be treated with drugs.)
And how did Baba Dunya herself feel about what was happening? Find in the text the words that most accurately convey the attitude of the heroine to her illness.
(“Ashamed, I felt ... guilty”, “mourned”;
“Here I am making noise, you old fool. I can't do anything.)
- What happened to Baba Dunya during the war? What, decades later, makes her suffer so much?
(During the war, she lost her bread cards, and she has three small children at home.
“- Cards ... Where are the cards ... In a blue handkerchief ... Good people. Children... Petyanya, Shurik, Taechka... I'll come home, they'll ask for something... Give me some bread, mother! And their mother ... - Baba Dunya stammered, as if stunned, and shouted: - Good people! Don't let me die! Petyanya! Shura! Taechka! “She seemed to sing out the names of the children, subtly and painfully.”
(To feed the children, she goes after the Don for acorns. She took two sacks. And on the ferry, the foresters began to take it away, it seems not supposed to be. and we'll get by with our stomachs. Don't take it away, for Christ's sake... Don't take it away!" she shouted. "Give me the sacks! The sacks!"
- Guys, what are the cards and what did they mean during the war?
(A card is a form with tear-off coupons that give the right to receive products. Usually they were not restored in case of loss. Loss of cards in war time is like death. Needless to say, what torment a mother experiences, not knowing how to feed her children.
“He knew about the cards. They were given bread. Long ago, during the war and after. And Petyanya, about whom the grandmother grieved, is the father.
A new trouble was approaching - a harsh winter, and the children were undressed and undressed:
“What kind of tweets to sew. I don’t need anything… The kids are barefoot…”
To get to my husband in the hospital, I needed a pass, a special document. All around war, danger, suspicions arose everywhere.
“There is a document, there is a document ... here it is ... - she said in a trembling voice. - I'm going to the hospital to see my husband. And the night is outside. Let me sleep.")
- What was Grisha's first reaction to grandmother's screams at night?
(“Waking up, he didn’t understand anything in the darkness, and fear seized him.” Grisha tries to wake up his grandmother, asks her to lie on her other side.
“- You, woman, lay on the wrong side, on the heart.
On the heart, on the heart ... - Baba Dunya obediently agreed.
Can't be in the heart. You lie on the right.
I'll lie down, I'll lie down..."
- How later does the grandson react to the screams of his grandmother in a dream?
(He begins to understand what his grandmother went through. He talks to her about what he heard from her in a dream. And he is amazed that dreams could cause real tears.
“- Baba…” Grisha gasped. Are you really crying? So it's all a dream.
I'm crying, old fool. In a dream, in a dream...
But why are tears real? After all, the dream is not true. You're awake, that's all.
Yes, it's awake now. And there…
What did you dream about?
Did you dream? Yes, bad. As if for acorns, I went beyond the Don, to the mountains. Got it in two bags. And the foresters on the ferry take away. Like it's not supposed to. And they don't give bags.
Why do you need acorns?
Feed. We pounded them, added a little bit of flour, and baked and ate the chureks.
Baba, are you just dreaming or was it? Grisha asked.
Dreaming, - answered Baba Dunya. - Dreaming - and it was. Do not bring, Lord. Don’t bring…”)
Please note: after the first sleepless night, the author describes how Grisha skis, how good he is, and then these descriptions are missing. At first, the boy perceives his grandmother's past in a detached way, and then it becomes his own pain.
(“- Grisha waited, listened to his grandmother’s even breathing, got up. He was shivering. Some kind of cold penetrated to the bones. And it was impossible to warm up. The stove was still warm. He sat by the stove and cried. Tears rolled and rolled. They came from heart, because the heart ached and ached, pitying Baba Dunya and someone else ... He did not sleep, but was in an old oblivion, as if in distant years, other, and in someone else's life, and he saw there, in this life, such bitter, such misfortune and sadness that he could not help but cry. And he wept, wiping his tears with his fist.")
- "The Night of Healing" - this is the name of Boris Ekimov's story. Synonyms for the word "healing" are the words "recovery, return to life." To heal Baba Dunya, Grisha has to choose one of two ways. The first one is offered by the mother. Let's turn to the text.
(“he went to the post office, to call the city. In a conversation, his mother asked:
Does Baba Dunya let you sleep? - And she advised: - She will only start talking in the evening, and you shout: “Be silent!” She stops. We tried".)
Did the boy take his mother's advice?
(“How to help her? How did her mother advise? She says it helps. It may well be. It’s a psyche, after all.
Grisha slowly walked and walked, thinking, and in his soul something warmed and melted, something burned and burned.)
No, the boy found his own way of healing Baba Dunya. “The boy’s heart was flooded with pity and pain. Forgetting what he had thought about, he knelt down in front of the bed and began to convince, softly, affectionately:
Here are your cards, grandma ... In a blue handkerchief, right? Are yours in a blue scarf? It's yours, you defended. And I raised it. You see, take it, - he insistently repeated. - All whole, take care ...
Baba Dunya was silent. Apparently, there in a dream, she heard and understood everything. The words didn't come right away. But they came:
Mine, mine... My handkerchief, blue. People will say. My cards, I dropped. Save Christ, a kind person…
Don't cry, he said loudly. - The cards are whole. Why cry? Take some bread and bring it to the kids. Bring, have dinner and go to bed, - he said, as if ordering. - And sleep peacefully. Sleep.)
How is the first method different from the second?
(He is more humane. The boy does not think about himself, but about his grandmother. But this method is also more difficult.)
Why doesn't Grisha tell his grandmother about what happened at night?
(“Grisha went to bed, anticipating how tomorrow he would tell his grandmother and how they were together ... But suddenly he was burned by a clear thought: you can’t speak. He clearly understood - not a word, not even a hint. This should remain and die in him. You need to do and be silent. Tomorrow night and the night after it. You must do and be silent. And healing will come.")
How do you understand the meaning of the title of the story? Whose healing are we talking about?
(With kindness and affection, you can heal Baba Dunya: “And healing will come.” The boy’s sensitivity, attentiveness, and care did what doctors and adults could not do.
Grisha was also healed. Healed from callousness, from indifference. The writer draws, as it were, two
lives that Grisha lives. In the afternoon - a happy time school holidays: fishing, skiing. At night, he seems to be transported back several decades, to wartime, and participates in his grandmother's heavy dreams. And this "night" life became more important for him.)
6. Comparative analysis of the images of heroes (quotes from the text, draw a conclusion)
| Children | Grandson |
|
|
| “made nests in the city”; “rarely ran into - well, if once a year”; “And to her, in the parental home, they came only on vacation, in the summer.” | “... having entered the years, I began to travel more often: on winter holidays, on October holidays and May holidays. He fished in the Don in winter and summer, collected mushrooms, skated and skied, made friends with street guys - in a word, he did not get bored. |
| Conclusion Children moved away not only from their native places, but also from their mother. | The grandson is drawn to his native roots, to his own person. |
|
|
| “And again Baba Dunya was left alone.” She runs the household alone, it is physically difficult for her. But more importantly, she is alone. And this loneliness weighs heavily on her. Life flows the same way. She has nothing to distract from the difficult memories, and they take over her. | “The grandson arrived ... And Baba Dunya, having revived at once, briskly fussed around the house: she cooked cabbage soup, made pies, got jams and compotes ... The grandson’s shirt was lying on the sofa, his books were on the table, the bag was thrown at the threshold - everything was not in place, out of place. And a living spirit blew in the house.” |
| Conclusion She really misses her children. She raised them with such love, put her whole soul into them, fought for them, saved them in difficult military and post-war years. | With Grishkin's arrival, she forgot about the ailment. The day flew by without seeing, in the hustle and bustle. With the arrival of her grandson, she was transformed, younger in soul. There was someone to talk to, someone to cook for, someone to take care of. |
|
|
| “Of course, everyone understood that old age and an unsweetened life were to blame ... With war and famine. They understood, but that didn't make it any easier. Baba Dunya came, and adults, consider, did not sleep all night long. Not much good." | To the grandmother’s warning, she replies: “I can’t hear anything. I sleep like a dead dream." When his grandmother worries that she woke him up twice at night, Grisha says: “Don't take it into your head. I'll sleep, what are my years ... ". |
| Conclusion The arrival of their mother is a burden to them. | It is not a burden for him to wake up at night from the alarming cries of his grandmother. He thinks not of himself, but of his grandmother. |
|
|
| “They took her to the doctors, they prescribed medicines. Nothing helped." | “Now, from the outside, she seemed so weak and lonely. And then there are the nights in tears...” He asks: “Are you really crying?”. “... is it just a dream, or was it?”. Tries to understand her. Thinking about how to help her. |
| Conclusion They don't understand her condition. They are limited to going to the doctor, to medicines. | He regrets, loves his grandmother. He understands her heart. |
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| “She will only start talking in the evening, and you shout:“ Be silent! She'll stop. We've tried." “We” are Grisha’s parents: Baba Dunya’s daughter-in-law, not her native person, and Petyan’s son, apparently completely trusting his wife. | “... knelt down in front of the bed and began to convince gently, affectionately ...”. “Grisha seemed to see a dark street and a woman in the darkness...”. “... persistently repeated” the words. |
| Conclusion They acted in the spirit of that cruel wartime. With their cry - an order, they only increased her fear, bitterness, heartache. | Grisha does not shout, but acts hypnotically, with the help of suggestion. He seems to be transferred to the disturbing world of his grandmother, getting used to the image. He really loves and wants to free a loved one from a painful state of mind. |
|
|
| “Father recalled the old years. But for him they passed.” "All people have lived bitter and forgotten." | “Tears rolled and rolled ... His heart ached and ached, pitying Baba Dunya and someone else ... He did not sleep, but was in a strange oblivion, as if in distant, other years, and in someone else's life, and he saw him there , in this life it is so bitter, such misfortune and sadness that he could not help but cry ... |
| Conclusion Apparently, the son did not fully feel the past bitter life. All the burdens and sorrows of that life the mother took on her shoulders. She took care of the children as much as she could. She even went to the gathering of acorns alone. | The grandson is endowed with a keen sense of love and pity, the ability to sympathize with the grief of a loved one. |
As a result of the comparative analysis, the students come to the conclusion that Grisha, unlike his parents, understands his grandmother with all his heart. The boy has a sympathetic, sensitive soul. No wonder the author uses the word “heart” several times in the text in relation to Grisha.
It remains to add that the story "The Night of Healing" is published in the "Echoes of War" section. Let's return to the epigraph of our lesson:
And they said everything passes
And will be forgotten in due time.
But the pain of war is alive among the people
And it ferments like juice in a birch.
S. Seleznev
The words of the poet perfectly reveal the content of the story. Indeed, the pain is alive. For the lesson, we designed a stand "And Barefoot Memory - a little woman walks the Earth."
Here we see the beautiful faces of your loved ones: grandmothers and great-grandmothers, who also had a lot of life's trials. Look into these dear faces, every day and every minute be merciful and compassionate towards them. Remember: pain is not someone else's! Don't be sorry affectionate word, a warm look for these people. They deserve it.
6. Students' messages about their loved ones, about what they experienced during the war.
The first story "Honey"
Before the Patriotic War with the Nazis, my great-grandmother - Maria Alexandrovna Sharlaimova - was pregnant with my grandmother, and my great-grandfather fought on Finnish war and then with the Nazis. Since the great-grandmother was pregnant, she wanted honey. Honey from wild bees in the Urals used to be in the forest on Christmas trees in wooden logs. My great-grandmother with two girlfriends went to the forest. One of the girlfriends climbed a fir tree and threw a deck of honey on the ground. While our grandfathers fought in the war, soviet militia fought with pregnant women. As it turned out, the police followed the girls and arrested them. So my great-grandmother was sent to prison in Sverdlovsk for a spoonful of honey. There she gave birth to a daughter - my grandmother, who grew up in an orphanage at the prison for three years. They were rarely allowed to see each other. Maria Alexandrovna cried at night, knowing that no one really looked after her daughter. This torture of the mother lasted for three whole years! Later, the relatives were allowed to take the girl home, and the "enemy of the people" was in prison for another year. After her release, my great-grandmother continued to work on the collective farm, and my grandmother was still small. Great-grandfather went through three wars (Japanese, Finnish, Patriotic), but at the end of the third he died.
The second story "Forest"
My great-grandmother is Elena Andreevna Vtorushina. Born in 1922 in the village of Chembakchino Khanty-Mansiysk Okrug. After graduating from school (7 classes) she went to work in Salekhard. When the war started, she returned home. At the beginning of 1942, when she was 20 years old, she was sent to logging in the Kondinsky district, the village of Vachkur. Young girls had to cut down huge trees on a par with men, cut off branches, despite winter frosts and summer heat. Then she was transferred by the seller to the grocery store. In 1944 she married a policeman (Aleksey Afanasyevich Chukomin). They raised 5 children. Great-grandmother was awarded various medals and orders. She is a home front veteran, a labor veteran, and a heroic mother. The war years left an unforgettable and indelible mark on my grandmother's life. I love her very much, quiet, affectionate and kind.
The third story "Orange"
My great-grandmother - Turlakova Elizaveta Emmanuilovna - was born in Romania in 1931. The family was friendly, large - 12 children grew up in it. On June 22, it was announced that the war had begun. At the family council, they decided to run away from the war to a safe place in order to escape the Germans. All the women and children were gathered on a cargo ferry that was carrying a lot of oranges. And sent by sea to where they thought there would be no war. When they sailed to Odessa, a bomb hit their ferry, and it sank very quickly. A terrible panic began, confusion, many people died. Great-grandmother Lisa woke up on the shore. How she swam out among the wreckage of the ferry, she does not remember. Opening her eyes, she saw an orange beach, because it was strewn with oranges. Rising with difficulty, she went along the shore to look for people who had survived. And she found her three sisters and her brother. They lived for three days on the shore and ate oranges, hoping that someone would find them. But no one was looking for them. Then they themselves came to the village of Berezino near Odessa and stayed to live there. No belongings or documents have been preserved. They had to give themselves years to get hired. Since then, she has not liked oranges. After the war, she worked for a long time as an educator in kindergarten.
The fourth story "Blockade"
The war found Evdokia Ivanovna Chugina (nee Nikitina) in Leningrad. She was then 18 years old. Behind her was already a seven-year school, a factory school, where she received the profession of a turner. From the first days of the war, she became a militia, digging trenches. Everyone now knows what a blockade is: it is a severe famine, and a terrible cold, and terrible shelling of the Nazis. The houses had no water or electricity. An adult working person was given a ration of bread up to 250 grams and a little cereal, and even less for children. She experienced all of this. The military plant where Evdokia Ivanovna worked produced shells for aircraft. The Germans often entered the city. At the end of 1942, together with a military plant, she was evacuated to Kazan. In 1943 she was sent near Stalingrad to dig anti-tank ditches. And in 1944. she volunteered for the front, and after a three-month driver's course she began to transport shells. After the war, she married Vasily Ivanovich Chugin, whom she met at the front.
Fifth story "Ukrainian"
Lidia Andreevna Efimenko, my grandmother on my mother's side, is still remembered in Igrim. She was born in 1937 in Ukraine in the Luhansk region. The Germans quickly occupied their village. The family had to move to a cold barn, because the Germans lived in the hut. One day over their village began air battle. Residents with bated breath followed its outcome. But here from Soviet aircraft black smoke poured, and the pilot jumped with a parachute. The Germans drove to the crash site on motorcycles, took the pilot away, and no one knows what happened to him next. My grandmother remembered for the rest of her life how, after the liberation of Ukraine, German prisoners restored the mines that they had destroyed. But now they were miserable and unarmed. One day she went to exchange bread for soap. The grandmother exchanged with the German, but then changed her mind and returned the German to his soap: her hatred for them was so strong. Turning around, she saw that he was crying. But the child's heart remembered the evil that they caused to the entire Ukrainian people, and there was no forgiveness in it.
Five different stories about the fate of women... They are united by war, universal grief and the desire to survive, to save themselves and their children, to wait for victorious husbands. The heroines have had many life trials. Let's be merciful and compassionate towards them every minute. Let us not spare a kind word, a warm look for these people. They deserve it.
7. I would like to finish the lesson with an excerpt from Yegor Isaev’s poem “The Court of Memory” and a poem by A.D. Dementieva.
An excerpt from Yegor Isaev's poem "The Court of Memory":
And walks the earth
Barefoot memory - a small woman.
She goes.
Crossing ditches -
She does not need any visas or residence permits,
In the eyes - that loneliness of the widow,
That is the depth of maternal sadness.
She goes,
Leaving your comfort
Not about yourself - worrying about the world.
And the monuments honor her,
And the obelisks bow at the waist.
A. Dementiev:
The importance of being on time
Say a kind word to someone
What would the heart tremble from excitement!
After all, death can ruin everything.
The importance of being on time
Congratulate or congratulate
Shoulder reliable substitute!
And know that it will continue to be so.
But sometimes we forget
Fulfill someone's request on time
Not noticing how bloody resentment
Invisibly alienates us.
And belated guilt
Then it torments our souls.
All you need to do is learn to listen.
The one whose life is exposed.
7. Summing up the lesson. Estimates.
8. Homework: write an essay based on the story “Night of Healing” on the topic: “... There are no victims of the war at all ...” (N. Struchkova).
Literature:
Ekimov B. "Solonich", - M .: Children's literature, 1989
Ozhegov S.I. Dictionary of the Russian language. – M.: Fiction, 1991
Dementiev A.D. Lyrics, - M .: Eksmo, 2003
Literature lessons, No. 8 - 2005
Khanty-Mansiysk Autonomous Okrug-Yugra, Berezovsky district
Municipal budgetary educational institution
IGRIMSKAYA SECONDARY EDUCATIONAL SCHOOL № 2
"The importance of being on time"
(extracurricular reading lesson in 11th grade based on Boris Ekimov's story "The Night of Healing")
DEVELOPED
TEACHER OF RUSSIAN LANGUAGE
AND LITERATURE KIRICHEK G.B.
Before moving on to a brief summary of Boris Ekimov's Night of Healing, let's talk about the author of this work.
about the author
Boris Ekimov (born 1938) is one of the oldest Russian prose writers. He wrote such works as "The Girl in the Red Coat", "Officer", "At Our Own", "Arrived Safely", etc. The story "Night of Healing" was written in 1986.
The story takes place in the 1970s and 1980s. Many years have passed since the end of the Great Patriotic War, returned home with a victory soviet soldiers, but the memories are still alive in the hearts of people who survived this terrible time.
In the summary of the "Night of Healing" by B. Ekimov, we note that in the story there are no descriptions of battle scenes, explosions do not rumble, people do not die. The work does not seem to be about the war. But also about the war at the same time. About its grave consequences, about how much suffering those who did not fight, but worked and lived for the future victory, raised children, and believed in the best had to endure.
About heroes
Baba Dunya is an elderly woman who suffers from restless dreams. She screams in her sleep, calls for help, wails that she has lost bread cards. Her screams wake up those around her. They calm her down, give her valerian to drink, but soon, when Baba Dunya falls asleep, everything repeats again.
Her daughter and son live in the city, both with their families, but Baba Dunya does not even want to visit them. She understands the anxiety her "noisy" dreams bring to the household. Of course, they also understand that all this was formed from the anxieties and fears of military and post-war life - hunger, disorder, tireless work for wear and tear. But a lot of time has passed since then. Baba Dunya has grown old, and in a dream she seems to be returning to the past.
They took Baba Dunya to the doctors, they prescribed medicines for her, but they did little to help. And the night did not get quieter. Therefore, the old woman, not wanting to burden anyone, lives alone. And if he comes to visit the children, then a short time- "ordinary".
Her grandson Grisha is a tall, ungainly teenager, who until recently, as his grandmother thinks, was a "clubfoot" child. Cheerful and active. On holidays and vacations he visits his grandmother Dunya.
Let's move on to a brief summary of Ekimov's Night of Healing.
Plot
Grisha, her grandson, came to Baba Dunya, who lives in the village. Skiing, skating, fishing. The old woman is happy - she starts pies, borscht and compote cooks, hosts. Her old man's loneliness temporarily disappeared, the house became more cheerful. And although the grandson rushed off to nature with rural friends, Grisha's things - clothes, books - are everywhere, reminding him that he will return soon.
The plot of the plot, as it should be noted in the summary of the Night of Healing, is that on the very first night upon arrival, Grisha jumped up from the cry of grandmother Dunya: “Help, good people! ... I lost my cards! ... In a blue handkerchief! " The boy jumped up, woke the screaming woman, and ordered her to lie down on her other side.
The old woman was ashamed that she woke her grandson, she was upset, but soon fell asleep again. And in a dream she spoke again and even cried. She dreamed that she went to the Don to collect acorns, and when she began to cross back on the ferry, the ferrymen took away the bags of acorns. It was with them that Baba Dunya quarreled in a dream, conscienced them. And she cried. Grisha was especially struck by her tears - he had never seen people take dreams so close to their hearts. But Baba Dunya was re-experiencing in a dream what had already happened to her, and that was the whole point. She could not forget the bitter, difficult past. Someone may have forgotten, but she did not. Every night old troubles revived and returned to her.
Grisha went fishing, brought bershes in his ear and zharekha. A couple more days passed. Once Grisha went to the post office, talked to his mother, and she, having learned that Baba Dunya still did not sleep well and made noise at night, advised: “She will just start talking, and you shout:“ Be silent! She will stop. We tried."
Grisha really wanted to help his grandmother, and he decided to follow his mother's advice. Evening came, he struggled to keep himself awake. And when Grandma Dunya went to bed, he sat on the bed and waited.
Last episode of the story
Finally, Baba Dunya stirred, muttered uneasily, saying that she lost her bread cards, how can she survive now? Grisha wanted, on the advice of his mother, to shout and stomp, he already dialed full chest air and lifted his leg... But there was such agony on the old woman's face and such bitter tears in her eyes that the boy knelt next to the bed and quietly said: "Here they are, your cards, grandmother... In a blue handkerchief, right? yours in a blue handkerchief? You dropped it, but I picked it up. Here, take it ... "And Baba Dunya calmed down.
And after some time, she suddenly spoke again: she was making her way to her husband in the hospital, here are the documents, they would let her spend the night, she would only have to change somewhere until the morning. Grisha "took the documents", said that everything was in order and she could stay until the morning. And grandmother Dunya calmed down, peaceful.
And in the morning he wanted to tell his grandmother these nightly stories, to brag about how smart he was, but he realized: you can’t talk. This must be his secret. He will still be with his grandmother. And the next night, and the one after it. Will "enter" her dream again. "Find" the cards she lost, "protect" from those who take the last, "return" what was stolen. And then healing will come to her.
Takovo summary story "The Night of Healing" Ekimov.
What a story?
The main idea of this work: attention and compassion for a person is the main thing in life. It is very important to find the strength in yourself to understand and sympathize with another, especially an old man - after all, he has a difficult life behind him, filled with losses and hardships. The author leads the reader to the conclusion that the desire to help one's neighbor must be disinterested, come from the heart. And this is not only about relatives, although they are also about them. After all, much in life begins with the family, with the relationship of close people to each other.
Another story about growing up. Grisha realized what pain his grandmother still has in her soul, how her past torments her, and he, unable to pass by, makes an important decision without telling anyone about it.
All this should be noted, setting out a summary of the "Night of Healing".
Boris Ekimov
"Night of Healing"
- Baba, I say, and you can be sure. There will be an ear and a fever. The company does not knit brooms. Take into account.
Grisha laughed.
- I'm talking about fish.
Grisha waved it off:
- Cards ... Where are the cards ... In a blue handkerchief ... Good people. Children... Petyanya, Shurik, Taechka... I'll come home, they'll ask for something... Give me some bread, mother. And their mother ... - Baba Dunya stammered, as if stunned, and shouted: - Good people! Don't let me die! Petyanya! Shura! Taechka! - She seemed to sing out the names of the children, subtly and painfully.
She woke up, tossed and turned:
- Lie down, lie down...
Grisha jumped out of bed.
– What did you dream about?
- Why do you need acorns?
At dinner, Baba Dunya grieved:
Baba Dunya was silent.
- Everything fits. Come on in.
1986
Boris Ekimov
"Night of Healing"
The grandson came and ran away with the guys to go skiing. And Baba Dunya, having revived at once, briskly fussed around the house: she cooked cabbage soup, made pies, got jams and compotes, and looked out the window to see if Grisha was running.
By lunchtime, the grandson showed up, ate as he swept, and rushed off again, now to the log, with skates. And again Baba Dunya was left alone. But it wasn't loneliness. The grandson's shirt was lying on the sofa, his books were on the table, the bag was thrown at the threshold - everything was out of place, in discord. And a living spirit blew in the house. The son and daughter built a nest in the city and rarely came over - well, if once a year. Baba Dunya did not visit them more often and returned to the house in an ordinary evening. On the one hand, I was afraid for the hut: whatever it is, and the economy, on the other ...
The second reason was more important: for some time now Baba Dunya had been sleeping uneasily, talking, and even screaming in her sleep. In your hut, at home, make noise even for the whole wide world. Who will hear! But as a guest ... As soon as they lie down and fall asleep, Baba Dunya mutters, speaks out loud, convinces someone, asks so clearly in the silence of the night, and then shouts: “Good people! Save!!" Of course, everyone wakes up - and to Baba Dunya. And she has such a disturbing dream. They will talk, calm down, give valerian and disperse. And an hour later the same thing: “Forgive me for Christ's sake! Sorry!!" And again the apartment is on end. Of course, everyone understood that old age and the unsweetened life that Baba Dunya had led were to blame. With war and famine. They understood, but that didn't make it any easier.
Baba Dunya came - and adults, consider, did not sleep all night long. Good is not enough. They took her to the doctors. They prescribed medicines. Nothing helped. And Baba Dunya began to go to the children less and less, and then only an ordinary thing: she would shake for two hours on the bus, ask about her health and return. And to her, in the parental home, they came only on vacation, in the summer. But Grisha's granddaughters, having entered the years, began to travel more often: the winter vacation, for October holidays and May holidays.
He fished in the Don in winter and summer, picked mushrooms, skated and skied, made friends with street guys - in a word, he did not get bored. Baba Dunya was happy.
And now, with Grisha's arrival, she forgot about the ailment. The day flew by without seeing, in vanity and worries. I didn’t have time to look back, and it was already turning blue outside the window, evening was approaching. Grisha showed up brightly. Rumbled on the porch
a red-cheeked man with a frosty spirit flew into the hut and declared from the threshold:
- Go fishing tomorrow! Bersh takes over the bridge. Fool!
“That’s good,” Baba Dunya approved. - Let's enjoy the ear.
Grisha had supper and sat down to sort out the gear: he checked the jigs and baubles, spreading his wealth halfway through the house. And Baba Dunya settled down on the sofa and looked at her grandson, asking him about this and that. The grandson was small and small, and in the last year or two he suddenly stretched out, and Baba Dunya hardly recognized in this long-legged, big-armed teenager with a black fluff on his lip the clubfoot Grishatka.
- Baba, I say, and you can be sure. There will be an ear and a fever. The company does not knit brooms. Take into account.
“It’s really bad with brooms,” Baba Dunya agreed. - Up to three rubles at the market.
Grisha laughed.
- I'm talking about fish.
- About the fish ... My uncle was fishing. Uncle Avdey. We lived in Kartuly. I got married from there. So there are fish...
Grisha was sitting on the floor, among the spinners and woods, long legs across the room, from bed to sofa. He listened and then concluded:
- Nothing, and tomorrow we'll catch: on the ear and roast.
Outside the window, the sun had long since set. The sky was pink for a long time. And the half moon was already shining, but it was so good, clear. Went to bed. Baba Dunya, ashamed, said:
- At night, maybe I'll make noise. So you wake up.
Grisha waved it off:
“Baby, I can’t hear anything. I sleep dead.
- Well, thank God. And then I'm making noise, you old fool. I can't do anything.
Both Baba Dunya and her grandson fell asleep quickly.
But in the middle of the night Grisha woke up screaming:
– Help! Help, good people!
Waking up, in the darkness he did not understand anything, and fear seized him.
- Kind people! Lost cards! The cards in the blue handkerchief are tied up! Maybe someone picked it up? - And she was silent.
Grisha understood where he was and what. This was Baba Dunya screaming. In the darkness, in the silence, grandmother's heavy breathing was so clearly heard. She seemed to breathe, gaining strength. And again she wailed, until she spoke out loud:
- Cards ... Where are the cards ... In a blue handkerchief ... Good people. Children... Petyanya, Shurik, Taechka... I'll come home, they'll ask for something... Give me some bread, mother. And their mother ... - Baba Dunya stammered, as if stunned, and shouted: - Good people! Don't let me die! Petyanya! Shura! Taechka! - She seemed to sing out the names of the children, subtly and painfully.
Grisha could not stand it, got out of bed, went into his grandmother's room.
- Granny! Baba! he called. - Wake up...
She woke up, tossed and turned:
- Grisha, are you? Woke you up. Sorry, for Christ's sake.
- You, woman, lay on the wrong side, on the heart.
- In the heart, in the heart ... - Baba Dunya obediently agreed.
- It is impossible in the heart. You lie on the right.
- Lie down, lie down...
She felt so guilty. Grisha returned to his room and went to bed. Baba Dunya tossed and turned and sighed. What came in a dream did not immediately recede. The grandson also did not sleep, lay, warming himself. He knew about cards. They were given bread. Long ago, during the war and after. And Petyanya, about whom her grandmother grieved, is her father.
In the liquid darkness of the half-light of the moon, a cupboard and a bookcase darkened. He began to think about the morning, about fishing, and already half asleep Grisha heard his grandmother's muttering:
“Winter is coming… Stock up on stomachs… For kids, kids…” Baba Dunya muttered. - There is not enough bread, and we will manage with stomachs. Don't take it away, for Christ's sake... Don't take it away! she screamed. - Give me the bags! Bags! And the sobs cut off the cry.
Grisha jumped out of bed.
- Granny! Baba! he shouted and turned on the light in the kitchen. - Grandma, wake up!
Baba Dunya woke up. Grisha bent over her. Tears shone on Grandmother's face in the light of the electric bulb.
“Babanya…” Grisha gasped. Are you really crying? So it's all a dream.
I'm crying, you old fool. In a dream, in a dream...
But why are tears real? After all, the dream is not true. You're awake, that's all.
- Yes, she's awake now. And there…
– What did you dream about?
- Did you dream? Yes, bad. As if for acorns, I went beyond the Don, to the mountains. Got it in two bags. And the foresters on the ferry take away. Like it's not supposed to. And they don't give bags.
- Why do you need acorns?
- Feed. We pounded them, added a little bit of flour, and baked and ate the chureks.
- Grandma, are you just dreaming or was it? Grisha asked.
“I’m dreaming,” Baba Dunya answered. - Dreaming - and it was. Do not bring, Lord. Don't bring me... Well, lie down, go lie down...
Grisha left, and a sound sleep overcame him, or Baba Dunya no longer screamed, but until late in the morning he did not hear anything. In the morning I went fishing and, as I promised, I caught five good bershes, one for fish soup and one for roast.
At dinner, Baba Dunya grieved:
- I don’t let you sleep ... I blubbered up to two times. Old age.
“Don’t take it into your head, Grandmother,” Grisha reassured her. - I'll sleep, what are my years ...
He had lunch and immediately began to pack. And when he put on a ski suit, he became even taller. And he was handsome, in a ski cap, such a sweet face, boyish, swarthy, with a blush. Baba Dunya seemed quite old next to him: her bent, sagging body, her gray head was shaking, and something unearthly was already seen in her eyes. Grisha briefly but distinctly remembered her face in the semi-darkness, in tears. The memory cut to the heart. He hastened to leave.
Friends were waiting outside. The steppe lay nearby. A little further away planting pines were green. It was so good to ski there. The resinous spirit penetrated the blood with a life-giving chill and seemed to lift an obedient body over the track. And it was easy to rush, as if to soar. Behind the pines rose mounds of sand - kuchugurs, overgrown with red thorn. They walked in a hilly ridge all the way to the Don. There, to the high Zadonsk hills, also covered with snow, it was drawn. It beckoned to steepness, when the emery wind cuts a tear from your eyes, and you fly, crouching a little, with narrow slits of your eyes tenaciously catching in front of every bump and hollow to meet them, and your body numb in the shaky summer. And finally, like a bullet, you fly out onto the smooth tablecloth of a snow-covered river and, relaxing, exhaling all your fear, roll and roll calmly, until the middle of the Don.
That night Grisha did not hear the woman Dunya's cries, although in the morning he could tell by her face that she was restlessly sleeping.
- Didn't wake you up? Well, thank God…
Another day passed and another. And then one evening he went to the post office, to call the city. During the conversation, the mother asked:
- Does Baba Dunya let you sleep? - And she advised: - She will only start talking in the evening, and you shout: “Be silent!” She stops. We tried.
On the way home, I started thinking about my grandmother. Now, from the side, she seemed so weak and lonely. And then there are these nights in tears, like a punishment. Father reminisced about the old days. But for him they passed. Not for grandma. And with what, no doubt, she waits for the night. All people have lived bitter and forgotten. And she has it again and again. But how to help?
It's late afternoon. The sun disappeared behind the coastal Don hills. The pink border lay behind the Don, and along it - a rare, distant forest of patterned niello. It was quiet in the village, only small children laughed, riding on a sled. It hurt to think about my grandmother. How to help her? What was your mother's advice? He says it helps. It may well be. It's the psyche. Order, shout - and stop. Grisha slowly walked and walked, thinking, and in his soul something warmed and melted, something burned and burned. All evening at dinner, and then over a book, at the TV, Grisha no, no, yes, and he remembered the past. He remembered and looked at his grandmother, thought: "If only not to fall asleep."
At dinner, he drank strong tea, so as not to overdo it. He drank a cup, another, preparing himself for a sleepless night. And the night came. They put out the light. Grisha did not lie down, but sat up in bed, biding his time. The moon shone outside the window. The snow was white. Black sheds. Baba Dunya soon fell asleep, snoring. Grisha was waiting. And when at last another indistinct muttering came from his grandmother's room, he got up and went. Light in the kitchen lit, got up
next to the bed, feeling an involuntary trembling seize him.
- Lost ... No ... No cards ... - Baba Dunya muttered still quietly. - Cards ... Where ... Cards ... - And tears, tears rolled up.
Grisha took a deep breath to shout louder, and even raised his foot to stomp. To be sure.
- Bread ... cards ... - in heavy flour, with tears, Baba Dunya uttered.
The boy's heart was flooded with pity and pain. Forgetting what he had thought about, he knelt down in front of the bed and began to convince, softly, affectionately:
- Here are your cards, woman ... In a blue handkerchief, right? yours in a blue scarf? It's yours, you dropped it. And I raised it. You see, take it,” he repeated insistently. - All whole, take ...
Baba Dunya was silent. Apparently, there, in a dream, she heard and understood everything. The words didn't come right away. But they came:
- My, my ... My handkerchief, blue. People will say. My cards, I dropped. God bless you good man...
Grisha realized from her voice that she was about to cry.
"Don't cry," he said loudly. - The cards are whole. Why cry? Take some bread and bring it to the kids. Bring it, have dinner and go to bed,” he said, as if commanding. - And sleep peacefully. Sleep.
Baba Dunya was silent.
Grisha waited, listened to his grandmother's even breathing, and got up. He was shivering. Some cold penetrated to the bones. And you couldn't get warm. The oven was still warm. He sat by the stove and wept. Tears rolled and rolled. They came from the heart, because the heart ached and ached, pitying Baba Dunya and someone else ... He did not sleep, but was in a strange oblivion, as if in distant years, other, and in someone else's life, and he saw life, so bitter, such misfortune and sadness that he could not help but cry. And he wept, wiping his tears with his fist. But as soon as Baba Dunya spoke, he forgot about everything. The head became clear, and the trembling left the body. He approached Baba Dunya just in time.
- There is a document, there is a document ... here it is ... - she said in a trembling voice. - I'm going to the hospital to see my husband. And the night is outside. Let sleepover.
Grisha seemed to see a dark street and a woman in the darkness, and flung open the door to meet her.
- Of course we will. Please pass. Come on in. Your document is not needed.
- There is a document! Baba Dunya shouted.
Grisha realized that he had to take the document.
- Okay, let's go. So… I see. A very good document. Right. With photo card, printed.
- Correct ... - Baba Dunya sighed with relief.
- Everything fits. Come on in.
- I'd like to be on the floor. Only until the morning. Wait it out.
- No gender. Here is the bed. Sleep well. Sleep. Sleep. On the side and sleep.
Baba Dunya obediently turned on her right side, put her hand under her head and fell asleep. Now until morning. Grisha sat over it, got up, put out the light in the kitchen. The crooked moon, sinking, looked out the window. The snow was white, sparkling with live sparks. Grisha went to bed, anticipating how tomorrow he would tell his grandmother and how they were together ... But suddenly a clear thought burned him: you can’t talk. He clearly understood - not a word, not even a hint. It must stay and die in it. You need to do and be silent. Tomorrow night and the night after it. You need to do and be silent. And healing will come.
1986
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Boris Yekimov's story "The Night of Healing".
Lesson objectives: To learn a page of the history of Russia during the Second World War. Improve your comparative analysis skills. Learn to generalize and draw conclusions. Get a sample of sensitivity, responsiveness in relation to loved ones.
Type of lesson: lesson-thinking.
Lesson equipment:
Table “Plot elements”.
Painting “View of the Don”.
5 portraits of mothers of the war years.
Photocopies of the text of B. Ekimov's story "The Night of Healing".
Leading homework:
General: Read the story. Prepare to retell the main episodes. Conduct comparative analysis images of heroes on 6 questions and draw the appropriate conclusions. Write in a notebook a description of the appearance of the main characters.
Individual: The student prepares a report about the author.
Lesson plan:
I. The word of the teacher.
II. Author's note.
III. Conversation to identify the assimilation of the content.
IV. Retellings of the main episodes.
V. Description of the appearance of the main characters.
VI. Comparative analysis.
VII. creative work according to the text - disclosure spiritual wealth Grisha.
VIII. Generalizing conversation - reflection.
IX. Lesson conclusion.
X. Homework.
The lesson begins with the announcement by the teacher of the topic, the objectives of the lesson. The teacher sets up students for reflection, analysis; calls to penetrate into the very heart of the heroes, to look into human souls. Further, he notes that among famous writers there are names that are completely little known - such is the author of the story “The Night of Healing” Boris Ekimov. The teacher asks to listen to the student's message about the author:
“Boris Petrovich Ekimov was born in 1938 in the city of Igarka, Krasnoyarsk Territory. After graduating from high school, he worked as an electrician at the factories of Volgograd. He is the author of 4 collections of short stories. He was a member of the Union of Writers of the Soviet Union. Until 1987 he lived in the city of Kalach-on-Don, Volgograd Region. Much to his regret, future fate we don't know anything."
After that, the teacher conducts a short conversation to find out how the students perceived the content of the story. Students list the names of the characters, indicate the place and time of action. An assumption is made that the action takes place in the 70s - 80s of the XX century, given that during the war Baba Dunya was a woman of 35-40 years old with three children and now has a teenage grandson. But in parallel with this time, the guys are transferred to the past, to hard years Great Patriotic War.
The teacher explains that the author uses a dream technique, with which he wants to show that the memory of the war is inextricably linked with the consciousness of people who survived the Great Patriotic War. The war, even in a dream, does not leave old people alone, makes them not forget those terrible years.
Then a table “Plot Elements” is posted, following which students retell the main episodes. The guys named the main stages of the plot:
The plot is the disturbing dreams of Baba Dunya.
The development of the action - the arrival of the grandson, his various activities; grandma's joy anxiety about sleep.
The climax is finding the only sure way to heal the grandmother.
The denouement is the hope for the complete healing of the grandmother.
“Baba Dunya was quite old: a bent, sagging body; his gray head was shaking, and something unearthly was already seen in his eyes. “With the arrival of Grisha, Baba Dunya, having revived at once, briskly fussed around the house: she cooked cabbage soup, started pies, got jams and compotes. I even forgot about the illness.
Hanging portraits of old Russian women. The students are asked the question: “Which one of these portraits do you think is suitable for our woman Dunya? Why?"
After a motivated choice of one of the portraits, Grisha's appearance is described:
“The grandson was small and small, and in the last year or two he suddenly stretched out, and Baba Dunya hardly recognized in this long-legged, big-armed teenager with a black fluff on his lip the clubfoot Grishatka.”
“Grisha was sitting on the floor, among the baubles and woods, his long legs across the whole little room, from bed to sofa.”
“And when I put on a ski suit, I became even taller. And he was handsome, such a sweet face, boyish, swarthy, with a blush.
To the question: “How many years can you give Grisha?”, The guys answer: “15-16 years old. He is already almost an adult, childishness left behind. Left behind and children's fun, games, no empty pastime. Grisha entered the time of youth, he thinks about many things. Classes are serious, useful - strengthens health, fishes. Firmly stands on this word, as promised, he caught 5 large bershes in his ear and zharekha. And since he firmly stands on what he has said, then he will finish the work he has begun.
Teacher: At home you should have been thoughtful, with research approach follow the characters of the characters, compare them on 6 questions. Thus, we turn to a comparative analysis, along the way making brief relevant conclusions.
1. Do they support Baba Dunya? |
|
Children moved away not only from their native places, but also from their mother. |
“... having entered the years, I began to travel more often: on winter holidays, on October holidays and May holidays. He fished in the Don in winter and summer, collected mushrooms, skated and skied, made friends with street guys - in a word, he did not get bored. The grandson is drawn to his native roots, to his own person. |
2. How does this affect the life of Baba Dunya? |
|
“And again Baba Dunya was left alone.” She runs the household alone, it is physically difficult for her. But more importantly, she is alone. And this loneliness weighs heavily on her. Life flows the same way. She has nothing to distract from the difficult memories, and they take over her. She really misses her children. She raised them with such love, put her whole soul into them, fought for them, saved them in the difficult war and post-war years. |
“The grandson arrived ... And Baba Dunya, having revived at once, briskly fussed around the house: she cooked cabbage soup, made pies, got jams and compotes ... The grandson’s shirt was lying on the sofa, his books were on the table, the bag was thrown at the threshold - everything was not in place, out of place. And a living spirit blew in the house.” With Grishkin's arrival, she forgot about the ailment. The day flew by without seeing, in the hustle and bustle. With the arrival of her grandson, she was transformed, younger in soul. There was someone to talk to, someone to cook for, someone to take care of. |
3. How do they endure Baba Dunya's disturbing dream? |
|
“Of course, everyone understood that old age and an unsweetened life were to blame ... With war and famine. They understood, but that didn't make it any easier. Baba Dunya came, and adults, consider, did not sleep all night long. Not much good." The arrival of their mother is a burden to them. |
To the grandmother’s warning, she replies: “I can’t hear anything. I sleep like a dead dream." When his grandmother worries that she woke him up twice at night, Grisha says: “Don't take it into your head. I'll sleep, what are my years ... ". It is not a burden for him to wake up at night from the alarming cries of his grandmother. He thinks not of himself, but of his grandmother. |
4. How do they show concern? |
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“They took her to the doctors, they prescribed medicines. Nothing helped." They don't understand her condition. They are limited to going to the doctor, to medicines. |
“Now, from the outside, she seemed so weak and lonely. And then there are the nights in tears...” He asks: “Are you really crying?”. “... is it just a dream, or was it?”. Tries to understand her. Thinking about how to help her. He regrets, loves his grandmother. He understands her heart. |
5. How did they calm Baba Dunya? |
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“She will only start talking in the evening, and you shout:“ Be silent! She'll stop. We've tried." “We” are Grisha’s parents: Baba Dunya’s daughter-in-law, not her native person, and Petyan’s son, apparently completely trusting his wife. They acted in the spirit of that cruel wartime. With their cry - an order, they only increased her fear, bitterness, mental pain. |
“... knelt down in front of the bed and began to convince gently, affectionately ...”. “Grisha seemed to see a dark street and a woman in the darkness...”. “... persistently repeated” the words. Grisha does not shout, but acts hypnotically, with the help of suggestion. He seems to be transferred to the disturbing world of his grandmother, getting used to the image. He really loves and wants to free a loved one from a painful state of mind. |
6. How do they relate to the past? |
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“Father recalled the old years. But for him they passed.” "All people have lived bitter and forgotten." Apparently, the son did not fully feel the past bitter life. All the burdens and sorrows of that life the mother took on her shoulders. She took care of the children as much as she could. She even went to the gathering of acorns alone. |
“Tears rolled and rolled ... His heart ached and ached, pitying Baba Dunya and someone else ... He did not sleep, but was in a strange oblivion, as if in distant, other years, and in someone else's life, and he saw him there , in this life it is so bitter, such misfortune and sadness that he could not help but cry ... " The grandson is endowed with a keen sense of love and pity, the ability to sympathize with the grief of a loved one. |
As a result of the comparative analysis, the students come to the conclusion that Grisha, unlike his parents, understands his grandmother with all his heart. The boy has a sympathetic, sensitive soul. No wonder the author uses the word “heart” several times in the text in relation to Grisha. And on the instructions of the teacher, the children find these sentences:
“Grisha briefly but clearly remembered the face of his grandmother in the semi-darkness, in tears. Memory cut to the heart...”
“When Grisha went home after talking with his mother, he thought about his grandmother,” “and it was hard to think about her hurt”.
“Grisha walked, thinking, and in his soul something warmed and melted, something burned and burned...”
"The boy's heart sank pity and pain."
“Tears were coming from the heart, because heart ached and ached, regretting Baba Dunya and someone else...”
Teacher: How do you understand: “... pitying Baba Dunya and someone else...”?
(Grisha, with his sympathetic heart, loves and pities not only his own grandmother. His pity extends to other mothers whose fates were swept by the war.)
Teacher: So Grisha, with all his big heart and soul, understands and keenly feels all the pain that many wartime mothers endured.
At the end of the work done, a general discussion is held.
Teacher: How to explain that Grisha found the only the right way grandmother's healing
(The fact that he is much closer to his grandmother than his father, her son. The boy loves his grandmother and understands her condition well, gets used to her soul).
Teacher: How is he behaving? What is its role, intonation?
(Grisha behaves like a person who really loves and wants to help his loved one. Grisha does not scream, but acts hypnotically, with the help of suggestion, speaks as he commands, but at the same time calmly, gently and convincingly).
Teacher: Why did Grisha decide that he should “do and be silent”?
(If he tells, the grandmother will stop believing in his sleep, and healing will never come. So he decides to remain silent. “It must remain and die in him.”)
Teacher: What does the title of the story tell you? How do you understand the meaning of the title?
(Baba Dunya is tormented at night. She suffers from disturbing dreams. Grisha acts at night. And he will act, relieve grandmother of torment for more than one night. But someday she will come, the last night, when Baba Dunya completely calms down, heals.)
Teacher: Healing is a complete recovery not only from physical pain, suffering, but also from a moral, spiritual wound. Grisha acts as a healer, one who cures with the power of suggestion. And most importantly, he believes in himself, hopes for a better outcome. And whoever believes, he achieves a lot.
Teacher: So, what conclusion can be drawn at the end of our analysis? We realized that close native person- mother - should not be left alone with living children and grandchildren. She gave them her whole life. Now it was their turn to take care of their mother in gratitude for her care for them. There must be a person nearby - support, support in difficult times.
The power of war plays a huge role. The hard time, the grief experienced during the war does not let Baba Dunya go, it firmly settled in her memory, in her soul.
The pain of Baba Dunya is not physical, but mental (doctors and medicines did not help her). A spiritual wound can only be healed with love, affection, soft, sensitive attitude. Will Grisha be able to become her support, support? Will he retain his best spiritual qualities?
(Yes, we are sure that Grisha will remain so sensitive and responsive in the future, he will carry the warmth of his heart through his whole life and will give love to all the people around him.)
Teacher: Let Grisha serve as an example of sensitivity, responsiveness, kindness. Learn from him. Read more about your peers, think about their actions, about life ...
Homework: write a review about the read work and illustrate the episode you like.
The lesson showed that such a work with a deep content did not pass by children's souls, it really left a mark on their hearts. The students realized that street games and empty pastime end with childhood, that with youth comes the time to think about the future, take care of relatives. We understood what native expanses are, a dear person, boundless love for him and a desire to help, to come to the rescue in difficult times.
BOOKSHELF FOR USE SUCCESSORS IN THE RUSSIAN LANGUAGE
Dear applicants!
After analyzing your questions and essays, I conclude that the most difficult thing for you is the selection of arguments from literary works. The reason is that you don't read much. I will not say unnecessary words for edification, but I will recommend SMALL works that you will read in a few minutes or an hour. I am sure that in these stories and novels you will discover not only new arguments, but also new literature.
Give us your opinion on our bookshelf >>
Ekimov Boris "Night of Healing"
The grandson came and ran away with the guys to go skiing. And Baba Dunya, having revived at once, briskly fussed around the house: she cooked cabbage soup, made pies, got jams and compotes, and looked out the window to see if Grisha was running.
By lunchtime, the grandson showed up, ate as he swept, and rushed off again, now to the log, with skates. And again Baba Dunya was left alone. But it wasn't loneliness. The grandson's shirt was lying on the sofa, his books were on the table, the bag was thrown at the threshold - everything was out of place, in discord. And a living spirit blew in the house. The son and daughter built a nest in the city and rarely came over - well, if once a year. Baba Dunya did not visit them more often and returned to the house in an ordinary evening. On the one hand, I was afraid for the hut: whatever it is, and the economy, on the other ...
The second reason was more important: for some time now Baba Dunya had been sleeping uneasily, talking, and even screaming in her sleep. In your hut, at home, make noise even for the whole wide world. Who will hear! But as a guest ... As soon as they lie down and fall asleep, Baba Dunya mutters, speaks out loud, convinces someone, asks so clearly in the silence of the night, and then shouts: “Good people! Save!!" Of course, everyone wakes up - and to Baba Dunya. And she has such a disturbing dream. They will talk, calm down, give valerian and disperse. And an hour later the same thing: “Forgive me for Christ's sake! Sorry!!" And again the apartment is on end. Of course, everyone understood that old age and the unsweetened life that Baba Dunya had led were to blame. With war and famine. They understood, but that didn't make it any easier.
Baba Dunya came - and adults, consider, did not sleep all night long. Good is not enough. They took her to the doctors. They prescribed medicines. Nothing helped. And Baba Dunya began to go to the children less and less, and then only an ordinary thing: she would shake for two hours on the bus, ask about her health and return. And to her, in the parental home, they came only on vacation, in the summer. But Grisha's granddaughters, having entered the years, began to travel more often: for the winter holidays, for the October and May holidays.
He fished in the Don in winter and summer, picked mushrooms, skated and skied, made friends with street guys - in a word, he did not get bored. Baba Dunya was happy.
And now, with Grisha's arrival, she forgot about the ailment. The day flew by without seeing, in vanity and worries. I didn’t have time to look back, and it was already turning blue outside the window, evening was approaching. Grisha showed up brightly. Rumbled on the porch
a red-cheeked man with a frosty spirit flew into the hut and declared from the threshold:
- Go fishing tomorrow! Bersh takes over the bridge. Fool!
“That’s good,” Baba Dunya approved. - Let's enjoy the ear.
Grisha had supper and sat down to sort out the gear: he checked the jigs and baubles, spreading his wealth halfway through the house. And Baba Dunya settled down on the sofa and looked at her grandson, asking him about this and that. The grandson was small and small, and in the last year or two he suddenly stretched out, and Baba Dunya hardly recognized in this long-legged, big-armed teenager with a black fluff on his lip the clubfoot Grishatka.
- Baba, I say, and you can be sure. There will be an ear and a fever. The company does not knit brooms. Take into account.
“It’s really bad with brooms,” Baba Dunya agreed. - Up to three rubles at the market.
Grisha laughed.
- I'm talking about fish.
- About the fish ... My uncle was fishing. Uncle Avdey. We lived in Kartuly. I got married from there. So there are fish...
Grisha was sitting on the floor, among the baubles and woods, his long legs across the whole little room, from bed to sofa. He listened and then concluded:
- Nothing, and tomorrow we'll catch: on the ear and roast.
Outside the window, the sun had long since set. The sky was pink for a long time. And the half moon was already shining, but it was so good, clear. Went to bed. Baba Dunya, ashamed, said:
- At night, maybe I'll make noise. So you wake up.
Grisha waved it off:
“Baby, I can’t hear anything. I sleep dead.
- Well, thank God. And then I'm making noise, you old fool. I can't do anything.
Both Baba Dunya and her grandson fell asleep quickly.
But in the middle of the night Grisha woke up screaming:
– Help! Help, good people!
Waking up, in the darkness he did not understand anything, and fear seized him.
- Kind people! Lost cards! The cards in the blue handkerchief are tied up! Maybe someone picked it up? - And she was silent.
Grisha understood where he was and what. This was Baba Dunya screaming. In the darkness, in the silence, grandmother's heavy breathing was so clearly heard. She seemed to breathe, gaining strength. And again she wailed, until she spoke out loud:
- Cards ... Where are the cards ... In a blue handkerchief ... Good people. Children... Petyanya, Shurik, Taechka... I'll come home, they'll ask for something... Give me some bread, mother. And their mother ... - Baba Dunya stammered, as if stunned, and shouted: - Good people! Don't let me die! Petyanya! Shura! Taechka! - She seemed to sing out the names of the children, subtly and painfully.
Grisha could not stand it, got out of bed, went into his grandmother's room.
- Granny! Baba! he called. - Wake up...
She woke up, tossed and turned:
- Grisha, are you? Woke you up. Sorry, for Christ's sake.
- You, woman, lay on the wrong side, on the heart.
- In the heart, in the heart ... - Baba Dunya obediently agreed.
- It is impossible in the heart. You lie on the right.
- Lie down, lie down...
She felt so guilty. Grisha returned to his room and went to bed. Baba Dunya tossed and turned and sighed. What came in a dream did not immediately recede. The grandson also did not sleep, lay, warming himself. He knew about cards. They were given bread. Long ago, during the war and after. And Petyanya, about whom her grandmother grieved, is her father.
In the liquid darkness of the half-light of the moon, a cupboard and a bookcase darkened. He began to think about the morning, about fishing, and already half asleep Grisha heard his grandmother's muttering:
“Winter is coming… Stock up on stomachs… For kids, kids…” Baba Dunya muttered. - There is not enough bread, and we will manage with stomachs. Don't take it away, for Christ's sake... Don't take it away! she screamed. - Give me the bags! Bags! And the sobs cut off the cry.
Grisha jumped out of bed.
- Granny! Baba! he shouted and turned on the light in the kitchen. - Grandma, wake up!
Baba Dunya woke up. Grisha bent over her. Tears shone on Grandmother's face in the light of the electric bulb.
“Babanya…” Grisha gasped. Are you really crying? So it's all a dream.
I'm crying, you old fool. In a dream, in a dream...
But why are tears real? After all, the dream is not true. You're awake, that's all.
- Yes, she's awake now. And there…
– What did you dream about?
- Did you dream? Yes, bad. As if for acorns, I went beyond the Don, to the mountains. Got it in two bags. And the foresters on the ferry take away. Like it's not supposed to. And they don't give bags.
- Why do you need acorns?
- Feed. We pounded them, added a little bit of flour, and baked and ate the chureks.
- Grandma, are you just dreaming or was it? Grisha asked.
“I’m dreaming,” Baba Dunya answered. - Dreaming - and it was. Do not bring, Lord. Don't bring me... Well, lie down, go lie down...
Grisha left, and a sound sleep overcame him, or Baba Dunya no longer screamed, but until late in the morning he did not hear anything. In the morning I went fishing and, as I promised, I caught five good bershes, one for fish soup and one for roast.
At dinner, Baba Dunya grieved:
- I don’t let you sleep ... I blubbered up to two times. Old age.
“Don’t take it into your head, Grandmother,” Grisha reassured her. - I'll sleep, what are my years ...
He had lunch and immediately began to pack. And when he put on a ski suit, he became even taller. And he was handsome, in a ski cap, such a sweet face, boyish, swarthy, with a blush. Baba Dunya seemed quite old next to him: her bent, sagging body, her gray head was shaking, and something unearthly was already seen in her eyes. Grisha briefly but distinctly remembered her face in the semi-darkness, in tears. The memory cut to the heart. He hastened to leave.
Friends were waiting outside. The steppe lay nearby. A little further away planting pines were green. It was so good to ski there. The resinous spirit penetrated the blood with a life-giving chill and seemed to lift an obedient body over the track. And it was easy to rush, as if to soar. Behind the pines rose mounds of sand - kuchugurs, overgrown with red thorn. They walked in a hilly ridge all the way to the Don. There, to the high Zadonsk hills, also covered with snow, it was drawn. It beckoned to steepness, when the emery wind cuts a tear from your eyes, and you fly, crouching a little, with narrow slits of your eyes tenaciously catching in front of each bump and hollow to meet them, and your body freezes in a shaky summer. And finally, like a bullet, you fly out onto the smooth tablecloth of a snow-covered river and, relaxing, exhaling all your fear, roll and roll calmly, until the middle of the Don.
That night Grisha did not hear the woman Dunya's cries, although in the morning he could tell by her face that she was restlessly sleeping.
- Didn't wake you up? Well, thank God…
Another day passed and another. And then one evening he went to the post office, to call the city. During the conversation, the mother asked:
- Does Baba Dunya let you sleep? - And she advised: - She will only start talking in the evening, and you shout: “Be silent!” She stops. We tried.
On the way home, I started thinking about my grandmother. Now, from the side, she seemed so weak and lonely. And then there are these nights in tears, like a punishment. Father reminisced about the old days. But for him they passed. Not for grandma. And with what, no doubt, she waits for the night. All people have lived bitter and forgotten. And she has it again and again. But how to help?
It's late afternoon. The sun disappeared behind the coastal Don hills. The pink border lay behind the Don, and along it - a rare, distant forest of patterned niello. It was quiet in the village, only small children laughed, riding on a sled. It hurt to think about my grandmother. How to help her? What was your mother's advice? He says it helps. It may well be. It's the psyche. Order, shout - and stop. Grisha slowly walked and walked, thinking, and in his soul something warmed and melted, something burned and burned. All evening at dinner, and then over a book, at the TV, Grisha no, no, yes, and he remembered the past. He remembered and looked at his grandmother, thought: "If only not to fall asleep."
At dinner, he drank strong tea, so as not to overdo it. He drank a cup, another, preparing himself for a sleepless night. And the night came. They put out the light. Grisha did not lie down, but sat up in bed, biding his time. The moon shone outside the window. The snow was white. Black sheds. Baba Dunya soon fell asleep, snoring. Grisha was waiting. And when at last another indistinct muttering came from his grandmother's room, he got up and went. Light in the kitchen lit, got up
next to the bed, feeling an involuntary trembling seize him.
- Lost ... No ... No cards ... - Baba Dunya muttered still quietly. - Cards ... Where ... Cards ... - And tears, tears rolled up.
Grisha took a deep breath to shout louder, and even raised his foot to stomp. To be sure.
- Bread ... cards ... - in heavy flour, with tears, Baba Dunya uttered.
The boy's heart was flooded with pity and pain. Forgetting what he had thought about, he knelt down in front of the bed and began to convince, softly, affectionately:
- Here are your cards, woman ... In a blue handkerchief, right? yours in a blue scarf? It's yours, you dropped it. And I raised it. You see, take it,” he repeated insistently. - All whole, take ...
Baba Dunya was silent. Apparently, there, in a dream, she heard and understood everything. The words didn't come right away. But they came:
- My, my ... My handkerchief, blue. People will say. My cards, I dropped. God bless you good man...
Grisha realized from her voice that she was about to cry.
"Don't cry," he said loudly. - The cards are whole. Why cry? Take some bread and bring it to the kids. Bring it, have dinner and go to bed,” he said, as if commanding. - And sleep peacefully. Sleep.
Baba Dunya was silent.
Grisha waited, listened to his grandmother's even breathing, and got up. He was shivering. Some cold penetrated to the bones. And you couldn't get warm. The oven was still warm. He sat by the stove and wept. Tears rolled and rolled. They came from the heart, because the heart ached and ached, pitying Baba Dunya and someone else ... He did not sleep, but was in a strange oblivion, as if in distant years, other, and in someone else's life, and he saw life, so bitter, such misfortune and sadness that he could not help but cry. And he wept, wiping his tears with his fist. But as soon as Baba Dunya spoke, he forgot about everything. The head became clear, and the trembling left the body. He approached Baba Dunya just in time.
- There is a document, there is a document ... here it is ... - she said in a trembling voice. - I'm going to the hospital to see my husband. And the night is outside. Let sleepover.
Grisha seemed to see a dark street and a woman in the darkness, and flung open the door to meet her.
- Of course we will. Please pass. Come on in. Your document is not needed.
- There is a document! Baba Dunya shouted.
Grisha realized that he had to take the document.
- Okay, let's go. So… I see. A very good document. Right. With photo card, printed.
- Correct ... - Baba Dunya sighed with relief.
- Everything fits. Come on in.
- I'd like to be on the floor. Only until the morning. Wait it out.
- No gender. Here is the bed. Sleep well. Sleep. Sleep. On the side and sleep.
Baba Dunya obediently turned on her right side, put her hand under her head and fell asleep. Now until morning. Grisha sat over it, got up, put out the light in the kitchen. The crooked moon, sinking, looked out the window. The snow was white, sparkling with live sparks. Grisha went to bed, anticipating how tomorrow he would tell his grandmother and how they were together ... But suddenly a clear thought burned him: you can’t talk. He clearly understood - not a word, not even a hint. It must stay and die in it. You need to do and be silent. Tomorrow night and the night after it. You need to do and be silent. And healing will come.
Two heads and six legs; four walk, and two lie still
Self-esteem - what is it: concept, structure, types and levels
Cassandra's Path, or Pasta Adventures War on Earth and Underground