Deal with social anxiety

Moscow Training Center, Moscow

Reflection of disappeared years

The relief of everyday yoke,

Eternal truths are unfading light –

This is a book. Long live the book!

Relentless pursuit

The joy of each new shift,

Indicating future roads –

This is a book. Long live the book!

Pure pleasures light source,

Anchorage of the happy moment,

Best friend, if you’re alone, –

This is a book. Long live the book!

After emptying the pot, Vanya wiped it dry with a crust. With the same crust, he wiped off a spoon, ate the crust, stood up, bowed sedately to the giants and said, lowering his eyelashes:

– Much grateful. Many are pleased with you.

– Maybe you want more?

– And then we can put another pot in your hands, – said Gorbunov, winking not without boasting. – For us, this is nothing. Oh, shepherd?

“I’m not getting into me anymore,” said Vanya shyly, and his blue eyes suddenly threw a quick, mischievous look from under his eyelashes.

– Do not want – as you want. Your will. We have a rule: we do not force anyone, ”said Bidenko, famous for his justice.

But the vain Gorbunov, who loved all people to admire the life of intelligence officers, said:

– Well, Vanya, so how did you see our grub?

“Good grub,” said the boy, putting the spoon in a pot with the handle down and collecting bread crumbs from the Suvorov’s onslaught spread out instead of the tablecloth.

– Right, good? – Gorbunov perked up. “You, brother, will not find such a grub from anyone in the division.” The famous grub. You, brother, the main thing, hold on to us, for the scouts. With us you will never be lost. Will you hold on to us?

“I will,” the boy said cheerfully.

– That’s right, and you will not perish. We’ll wash you in the bathhouse. Patly you cut. Uniform some sort out, so that you have the proper military look.

– And in the exploration of me, uncle, will you take?

– Yves will take you. Make you a famous scout.

– I, uncle, small. I will crawl everywhere, – Vanya said with joyful readiness. “I know every bush around here.”

– And from the automatic machine to fire me teach?

– From what. The time will come – we will teach.

– I would, uncle, just one time to shoot, – said Vanya, eagerly looking at the machines, swaying on their belts from the incessant cannon firing.

– You shoot. Do not be afraid. This will not be. We will teach you all military science. The first duty, of course, is to enroll you in all kinds of allowances.

– How is it, uncle?

– This is, brother, very simple. Sergeant Yegorov will report to you lieutenant

Gray. Lieutenant Sedykh will report to the battery commander, Captain Enakiev, captain Enakiev will order you to be given in the order of your admission. From that, means, numbers on you and all kinds of allowances will go: clothing, welding, money. Do you understand?

“This is how it is done by us, the scouts … Wait!” Where are you going?

– Wash the dishes, uncle. Mother always ordered us to wash dishes after herself, and then to clean the cabinet.

“Correctly ordered,” said Gorbunov sternly. – The same is true in military service.

“There are no doormen in the military service,” the fair Bidenko cautiously remarked.

“However, wait and wash the dishes, we’ll have tea now,” said Gorbunov smugly. – Respect drinking tea?

– I respect, – said Vanya.

– Well, doing it right. We, the scouts, have to put it this way: as we eat, we have to drink tea now. It is impossible! – said Bidenko. – We drink, of course, in the tab, – he added indifferently. – We do not consider this.

Soon a large copper kettle appeared in the tent – a source of special pride for the intelligence officers, who is also the source of the eternal envy of the other battery men.

It turned out that the scouts did not really count with sugar. Silent Bidenko untied his duffle bag and put a huge handful of refined sugar on the “Suvorov onslaught”. Before Vanya had time to blink an eye, Humpback swam two large breasts of sugar in his mug, however, noticing an expression of delight on the boy’s face, he finally opened the third breast. Know, they say, us scouts!

Vanya grabbed a tin cup with both hands. He even closed his eyes with pleasure. He felt like in an extraordinary, fantastic world. Everything was fabulous. And this tent, as if illuminated by the sun on an overcast day, and the rumble of a close battle, and good giants, throwing handfuls of refined sugar, and mysterious “all kinds of contentment” promised to him — clothing, welding, money — and even the words “pig stew”, in black letters printed on the mug.

– Like? – asked Gorbunov, proudly admiring the pleasure with which the boy pulled the tea with gently stretched lips.

Vanya could not even answer this question sensibly. His lips were busy fighting tea, hot as fire. The heart was full of tumultuous joy because he would live with the scouts, these wonderful people who promise to mow, uniform, teach him to fire from an automatic rifle.

All the words mingled in his head. He only nodded his head gratefully, raised his eyebrows with a house and rolled his eyes, expressing the highest degree of pleasure and gratitude.

(In Kataev “Son of the Regiment”)

If you think that I study well, you are mistaken. I study does not matter. For some reason everyone thinks that I am capable, but lazy. I do not know whether I am capable or not. But only I know for sure that I am not lazy. I sit on tasks for three hours.

For example, now I am sitting and I want to solve the problem with all my might. And she does not dare. I tell mom:

– Mom, but my problem does not work.

– Do not be lazy – says mom. – Think carefully and everything will work out. Just think carefully!

She leaves on business. And I take the head with both hands and tell her:

– Think, head. Think carefully … “From point A to point B two pedestrians came out …” Head, why don’t you think? Well, head, well, think, please! Well worth it to you!

A little cloud is floating outside the window. It is light as fluff. Here it has stopped. No, it floats further.

Head, what do you think ?! Aren `t you ashamed. “From point A to point B two pedestrians came out …” Lyuska probably also left. She is already walking. If she came to me first, I would, of course, forgive her. But does it fit, so bad?

“… From point A to point B …” No, it does not fit. On the contrary, when I go out into the yard, she will take Lena by the hand and whisper with her. Then she will say: “Flax, send to me, I have something”. They will leave, and then they will sit on the window-sill and will laugh and nibble at the seeds.

“… From point A to point B two pedestrians came out …” And I will do something. And then I will call Kohl, Petka and Pavlik to play lapta. And what will she do? Yeah, she put on the Three Fat Men record. So loudly, that Kolya, Petka and Pavlik will hear and run to ask her to let them listen. We listened a hundred times, everything is not enough for them! And then Lyuska will close the window, and there they will all listen to the record.

“… From point A to point … to point …” And then I’ll take and blow something directly into her window. Glass – ding! – and scatter. Let him know.

So. I’m tired of thinking. Think not to think – the task does not work. Just awful what a difficult task! Here I will walk a little and again I will think.

I closed the problem book and looked out the window. In the yard walked alone Lyuska. She jumped to the classics. I went out into the yard and sat on the bench. Lyuska didn’t even look at me.

– Seryozhka! Vitka! – screamed right away Lyuska. – Go play in lapta!

The Karman brothers looked out the window.

“We have a throat,” both brothers said hoarsely. – We will not be allowed.

– Lena! – screamed Lyuska. – Linen! Come out!

Instead of Lena, her grandmother looked out and shook Lyuska with a finger.

– Pavlik! – screamed Lyuska.

No one appeared in the window.

– Pe-Eta-ka-a! – Luska was implanted.

– Girl, what are you yelling ?! – someone’s head popped out of the vents. – A sick person is not allowed to rest! There is no peace from you! – And the head stuck back in the window.

Lyuska peeked at me and blushed like a cancer. She tugged at her pigtail. Then she removed the thread from the sleeve. Then she looked at the tree and said:

– Luce, let’s classics.

“Come on,” I said.

We jumped to the classics, and I went home to solve my problem.

As soon as I sat down at the table, mother came:

“But you have been sitting above her for two hours already!” It’s just awful what it is! Give the children some puzzles. Well, let’s show your task! Maybe I will succeed? I still graduated from the institute. So. “From point A to point B two pedestrians came out …” Wait, wait, this task is familiar to me! Listen, why, you decided it last time together with your dad! I remember very well!

– How? – I was surprised. – Really? Oh, really, this is the forty-fifth task, and we have the forty-sixth task.

Here mom terribly angry.

– It’s outrageous! – said mom. – This is unheard of! This mess! Where is your head ?! What is she just thinking about ?!

(Irina Pivovarova “What my head is thinking about”)

Irina Pivovarova. Spring rain

I did not want to learn lessons yesterday. There was such a sun outside! Such a warm yellow sun! Such branches swayed outside the window. I wanted to stretch out my hand and touch every sticky green leaf. Oh, how the hands will smell! And your fingers stick together – you can not pull them apart. No, I did not want to learn lessons.

I went outside. The sky above was fast. Clouds hurried along it, sparrows chirping loudly in the trees, and a big fluffy cat was warming on the bench, and it was so good that spring!

I walked in the yard until the evening, and in the evening mom and dad went to the theater, and I, having not done my homework, went to bed.

The morning was dark, so dark that I did not want to get up at all. That’s always the case. If the sun, I immediately jump. I dress quickly, quickly. And the coffee is delicious, and mom does not grumble, and dad jokes. And when the morning is the same as today, I dress barely, my mother drives me up and gets angry. And when I have breakfast, dad comments to me that I’m sitting crookedly at the table.

On the way to school, I remembered that I had not done a single lesson, and that made me even worse. Without looking at Lyuska, I sat at the desk and took out textbooks.

Vera Evstigneevna entered. The lesson has begun. Now they will call me.

– Sinitsyna, to the board!

I shuddered. What should I go to the board?

“I didn’t learn,” I said.

Vera Evstigneevna was surprised and gave me a deuce.

Why do I live so badly in the world? Better I will take and die. Then Vera Evstigneevna regret that she gave me a deuce. And mom and dad will cry and talk to everyone:

“Oh, why did we go to the theater ourselves, and left her completely alone!”

Suddenly they pushed me in the back. I turned around. I put a note in my hands. I unwrapped a long narrow paper ribbon and read:

Two – it’s nothing.

You will correct the two!

I will help you! Let’s be friends with you! Only this is a secret! Not a word to anyone.

Immediately it seemed to me that something warm was poured. I was so happy that I even laughed. Lyuska looked at me, then at the note and proudly turned away.

Has anyone written this to me? Or maybe this note is not for me? Maybe she Lyuske? But on the reverse side stood: LUSA SYNITSYNAYA.

What a wonderful note! I have never received such wonderful notes in my life! Well, of course, the deuce is nothing! What are you talking about?! Deuce I just fix it!

I read twenty times:

“Let’s be friends with you.” “

Well, of course! Of course, let’s be friends! Come be friends with you !! You are welcome! Very happy! I love terribly when they want to be friends with me.

But who writes this? Some YALO-KVO-KYL. Incomprehensible word. I wonder what it means? And why this YALO-KVO-KYL wants to be friends with me. Maybe I’m still beautiful?

I looked at the desk. There was nothing beautiful.

Probably, he wanted to be friends with me, because I am good. And what, I’m bad, or what? Of course, good! After all, no one wants to be friends with a bad person!

To celebrate, I nudged Lyuska.

– Luce, and with me one person wants to be friends!

– Who? – Immediately asked Lyuska.

– I don’t know who. Here it is somehow incomprehensibly written.

“Show me, I’ll sort it out.”

– Honestly, you will not tell anyone?

Lyusa read the note and twisted her lips:

– Some fool wrote! Couldn’t tell your real name.

– Or maybe he is shy?

I looked at the whole class. Who could write a note? Well, who. It would be nice, Kolya Lykov! He is the smartest in our class. Everyone wants to be friends with him. But I have so many triples! No, he is unlikely.

Or maybe it was Yurka Seliverstov. No, we are already friends with him. Would he unexpectedly send me a note!

At recess I went out into the corridor. I stood by the window and waited. It would be nice, this YALO-KVO-KYL immediately became friends with me!

Pavlik Ivanov came out of the class and immediately went to me.

So, it means Pavlik wrote it? Only this is not enough!

Pavlik ran to me and said:

– Sinitsyna, give ten kopecks.

I gave him ten kopecks so that he would quickly get rid of it. Pavlik immediately ran to the buffet, and I stayed by the window. But no one else came up.

Suddenly Burakov started walking past me. It seemed to me that he was looking at me in a strange way. He stopped by and looked out the window. So, then, the note was written by Burakov ?! Then I’d better go right away. I can not stand this Burakova!

“The weather is terrible,” said Burakov.

I did not have time to leave.

“Yes, the weather is bad,” I said.

“The weather is the worst,” said Burakov.

“The weather is terrible,” I said.

Then Burakov took an apple out of his pocket and bit off half with a crunch.

– Burakov, give a bite, – I could not stand it.

“It’s bitter,” said Burakov and walked along the corridor.

No, he did not write a note. And thank God! You will not find the second such greedy around the world!

I scornfully looked after him and went to class. I entered and was stunned. It was written in huge letters on the blackboard:

SECRET. YALO-KVO-KYL + SINITSYNA = LOVE. NO ONE WORD!

In the corner I was whispering with the girls Lyuska. When I entered, they all stared at me and began to giggle.

I grabbed a rag and rushed to wipe the board.

Then Pavlik Ivanov jumped up to me and whispered in my ear:

“I wrote you a note.”

Then Pavlik laughed like a fool and shouted to the whole class:

– Oh, scream! Yes, why be friends with you? All in freckles, like a cuttlefish! Tit stupid!

And then I did not have time to look back, when Yur Seliverstov jumped up to him and hit this boob with a wet rag right on the head. Pavlik howled:

– Ah well! I will tell everyone! I will tell everyone, everyone, everyone about her, how she receives notes! And I will tell everyone about you! You sent her a note! – And he ran out of the class with a stupid cry: – Yalo-quo-kyl! Yalo-whining!

The lessons are over. No one came up to me. All quickly collected textbooks, and the class was empty. Kolya Lykov and I remained alone. Kohl still could not tie a shoelace.

The door creaked. Yurka Seliverstov stuck his head in the classroom, looked at me, then at Kohl and, without saying anything, left.

But what if? Suddenly it’s still Kolya wrote? Is it Kolya ?! What happiness, if Kohl! My throat was dry right away.

– Kohl, say, please, – I barely managed to squeeze myself out, – it’s not you, by chance.

I didn’t finish it because suddenly I saw how Kollins painted their ears and neck.

– Oh you! – Said Kolya, not looking at me. – I thought you. And you.

– Kolya! – I screamed. – So I am.

“You chatterbox, that’s who,” said Nick. – You have a tongue like a broomstick. And I don’t want to be friends with you anymore. What else was missing!

Kohl finally coped with the cord, got up and left the classroom. And I sat in my place.

I will not go anywhere. Outside there is such a terrible rain. And my fate is so bad, so bad that it cannot be worse! So I will sit here until night. And I will sit at night. One in a dark class, one in the whole dark school. That’s what I need.

Aunt Nyura came in with a bucket.

“Go home, dear,” said Aunt Nyura. – Mother waited at home.

“No one waited for me at home, Aunt Nyura,” I said, and dragged myself out of class.

Bad my fate! Lyuska is no longer my friend. Vera Evstigneevna gave me a deuce. Kolya Lykov. I didn’t want to remember about Kolya Lykov.

I slowly put on my coat in the dressing room and, hardly dragging my legs, I went out into the street.

Outside, there was a wonderful, the best spring rain in the world.

Along the street, with collars up, fun wet pedestrians ran.

And on the porch, right in the rain, stood Kolya Lykov.

“Let’s go,” he said.

(Irina Pivovarova “Spring rain”)

The front was far from the village of Nechaev. Nechaev kolkhozniks did not hear the roar of guns, did not see how the planes were beating in the sky and how the glow of fires blazed in the night where the enemy was passing through Russian soil. But from there, where there was a front, the refugees came through Nechaevo. They dragged the sleeves with knots, hunched under the weight of bags and sacks. Clinging to the dress of mothers, the children went and got stuck in the snow. The homeless people stopped, warmed themselves in the huts, and moved on. Once at dusk, when the shadow of the old birch reached out to the very granary, they knocked at the hut to Shalikhin. The reddish, agile girl Taiska rushed to the side window, buried her nose in the thistle, and both her pigtails had fun ridden up. – Two aunts! She cried. – One young, in a scarf! And the other is quite an old woman, with a wand! And yet … look – girl! The pear, the elder sister of Taiskin, laid down her stocking, which was knitting, and also went to the window. – And the truth is the girl. In the blue hood … “So go open,” said the mother. – What are you waiting for? Pear pushed Taiscu: – Go, what are you! Should all the elders? Taiska ran to open the door. People entered, and in the hut smelled of snow and frost. While the mother was talking to the women, while asking where they were from, where they were going, where the Germans were and where the front was, Pear and Taiska looked at the girl. – Look, in the little boots! – A stocking ragged! – Look, in his bag as he clutched, even his fingers do not unclench. What does she have there? – And you ask. – And you ask yourself. At this time came from the street Romanok. Frost kicked his cheeks. Red as a tomato, he stopped against a stranger girl and stared at her. Even his legs are forgotten. And the girl in the blue hood was sitting motionless on the edge of the shop. With her right hand, she pressed a yellow handbag that hung over her shoulder to her chest. She silently looked somewhere in the wall and seemed not to see or hear anything. Mother poured hot soup to the refugees, cut off a piece of bread. – Oh, yes, and the unfortunate! – she sighed. “And it’s not easy, and the child is in trouble … Is this your daughter?” “No,” the woman replied, “a stranger.” “They lived on the same street,” the old woman added. Mother was surprised: – A stranger? Where are your relatives, girl? The girl looked gloomily at her and did not answer. “She has no one,” the woman whispered, “the whole family died: the father was at the front, and the mother and brother were here.”

Killed … Mother looked at the girl and could not come to his senses. She looked at her lightweight coat, which, probably, was blown through by the wind, at her torn stockings, at the thin neck whitening plaintively from under the blue hood … Killed. All killed! And the girl is alive. And one is in the whole world! Mother went to the girl. – What is your name, daughter? – She asked gently. “Valya,” answered the girl indifferently. “Valya … Valentina …” the mother repeated thoughtfully. – Valentine … Seeing that the women took up the sacks, she stopped them: – Stay overnight you sleep tonight. It is already late in the yard, and the snowing has gone – just as it sweeps up! And in the morning go. Women remained. Mother was bedding people tired bed. To the girl she made a bed on a warm couch – let her warm up well. The girl undressed, took off her blue hood, poked into the pillow, and the dream immediately overcame her. So, when the grandfather came home in the evening, his usual place on the stove bench was taken, and that night he had to lie down on the trunk. After dinner, everyone calmed down very soon. Only the mother tossed and turned in her bed and could not sleep. At night, she got up, lit a small blue light bulb, and quietly walked over to the stove bench. The faint light of the lamp lit up the girl’s tender, slightly burnt face, large fluffy eyelashes, dark hair with chestnut tint, scattering along a colorful pillow. – Orphan you are poor! – mother sighed. – Only opened my eyes to the light, and how much grief overwhelmed you! On such a small. For a long time the mother stood beside the girl and kept thinking about something. She took her boots from the floor, looked at them – thin, wet. Tomorrow this little girl will put them on and go somewhere again … And where? Early, early, when a little had dawned in the windows, the mother got up and flooded the stove. Grandfather rose too: he did not like to lie long. In the hut it was quiet, only I could hear sleepy breath and Romanok snuffled on the stove. In this silence, under the light of a small lamp, the mother quietly talked to her grandfather. “Let’s take the girl, father,” she said. – I really feel sorry for her! The grandfather put off his boots, which repaired, raised his head and looked thoughtfully at his mother. – Take the girl. Will it be okay? – he answered. – We are rural, and she is from the city. “Does it matter, father?” And in the city people, and in the village people. After all, she is an orphan! Our Taisa girlfriend will be. Next winter they will go to school together … The grandfather came up, looked at the girl: – Well, well … Look. You know better. Let’s take it though. Just look, then she herself will not cry with her! – E. Probably not cry. Soon the refugees rose and began to get ready to go. But when they wanted to wake up the girl, the mother stopped them: – Wait a minute, do not wake up. Leave Valentine with me! If there are relatives, tell me: he lives in Nechaev, at Darya Shalikhina’s. And I had three guys – well, there will be four. Perhaps we will live! The women thanked the owner and left. And the girl stayed. “I have one more daughter,” said Daria Shalihinha thoughtfully, “Valentine’s daughter … Well, let’s live.” So a new man appeared in the village of Nechaev.

(Lyubov Voronkova “Girl from the city”)

Not remembering how to leave the house, Assol already ran to the sea, caught up by an irresistible

the wind of the event; on the first corner she stopped almost exhausted; her legs gave way,

Deal with social anxiety

breathing broke out and went out, consciousness held in the balance. Out of fear of losing

will, she stamped her foot and recovered. At times, the roof and the fence were hidden from it.

Scarlet Sails; then, fearing that they had disappeared like a simple ghost, she was in a hurry

avoiding the painful obstacle and, seeing the ship again, stopped relieved

In the meantime, there was such confusion in Kaperna, such excitement, such

polling distemper, which will not yield to the effect of the famous earthquakes. Never before

a large ship did not approach this shore; the ship had the same name sails

which sounded like mockery; now they are clearly and irrefutably glowing with

the innocence of a fact that refutes all the laws of being and common sense. Men,

women, children in a hurry rushed to the shore, who was in what; residents called to

courtyard, attacked each other, screamed and fell; soon the water was formed

the crowd, and Assol rushed into the crowd.

While she was gone, her name flew among people with nervous and sullen anxiety, with

vicious fright. Men spoke more; choked up with a snake hiss

stunned women sobbed, but if that was already beginning to pop – poison

climbed into the head. As soon as Assol appeared, everyone was silent, all with fear departed from

her, and she was left alone in the depths of the sultry sand, confused, ashamed, happy, her face no less scarlet than her miracle, helplessly stretching out her hands to the tall

A boat full of tanned rowers separated from him; among them stood the one whom as her

it seemed now, she knew, vaguely remembered from childhood. He looked at her with a smile

which warmed and hurried. But thousands of the latest ridiculous fears overpowered gonna;

mortally fearing everything – mistakes, misunderstandings, mysterious and harmful interference –

she ran to the waist in the warm wave of waves, shouting: “I’m here, I’m here! It’s me!”

Then Zimmer waved his bow – and the same melody burst through the nerves of the crowd, but on

this time a full, triumphant chorus. From excitement, movement of clouds and waves, shine

water and gave the girl almost could not distinguish what was moving: she, the ship or

the boat — everything was moving, spinning and falling.

But the paddle splashed sharply near her; she looked up. Gray bent down, her hands

grabbed his belt. Assol closed her eyes; then, quickly opening his eyes, bravely

smiled at his beaming face and, out of breath, said:

– And you, too, my child! – taking out a wet jewel from the water, said Gray. –

Here I come. Did you recognize me?

She nodded, holding on to his belt, with a new soul and quiveringly squinted eyes.

Happiness sat in her fluffy kitten. When Assol decided to open her eyes,

rocking the boat, the brilliance of the waves, approaching, powerfully tossing and turning, the board of the “Secret” –

everything was a dream where the lights and the water swayed, spinning like a game of sunbeams on

streaming wall. Not remembering how, she climbed the ladder in Gray’s strong hands.

The deck, covered and hung with carpets, in scarlet splashes of sails, was like a heavenly garden.

And soon Assol saw that she was standing in the cabin — in a room that could no longer

Then from above, shaking and burying the heart in her triumphant cry, rushed again

great music Again Assol closed her eyes, fearing that all this would disappear if she was

watch. Gray took her hands, and, already knowing where to go safely, she hid

a face wet from tears on the chest of a friend who came so magically. Carefully, but with a laugh,

himself shocked and surprised that the inexpressible came, not accessible to anyone

precious minute, Gray lifted his chin up is a long, long-standing

the face, and the eyes of the girl, finally, clearly opened. They had all the best man.

“Will you take my Longren to us?” – she said.

– Yes. – And he kissed her so tightly after his iron “yes” that she

By the end of the school year, I asked my father to buy me a two-wheeled bicycle, a submachine gun with batteries, a plane with batteries, a flying helicopter and table hockey.

– I so want to have these things! – I said to my father. – They constantly spin around in my head like a merry-go-round, and this makes my head so spinning that it is difficult to stay on my feet.

“Hold on,” said my father, “do not fall and write me all these things on a piece of paper so that I will not forget.”

– Yes, why write, and so they sit firmly in my head.

“Write,” said the father, “because it costs you nothing.”

“In general, it’s worth nothing,” I said, “just an extra hassle.” – And I wrote in big letters on the whole sheet:

Then I thought and decided to write an ice cream, went to the window, looked at the sign opposite and added:

Father read and says:

“I’ll buy you some ice cream for the time being, and wait for the rest.”

I thought he had no time now, and asked:

– Until what time?

– Until better times.

– Until the next school year.

– Yes, because the letters in your head spin like a merry-go-round, this makes you feel dizzy and the words are not on your feet.

As if words have legs!

And I already bought ice cream a hundred times.

(Victor Galyavkin “Carousel in the head”)

The last days of August. Autumn was coming. The sun was setting. A sudden gusting downpour, without thunder and without lightning, had just flown over our wide plain. The garden in front of the house was burning and smoking, all drowned in fire and the flood of rain. She sat at the table in the living room and with persistent thoughtfulness looked into the garden through a half-open door. I knew what was happening then in her soul; I knew that after a short, though painful, struggle, at that very moment, she gave herself up to a feeling with which she could no longer cope. Suddenly she got up, quickly went out into the garden and disappeared. struck another; she did not come back. Then I got up and, coming out of the house, went along the avenue along which — I had no doubt — went and she. Everything darkened around; the night had already come. But on the wet sand of the track, brightly shining even through the spilled darkness, there was a roundish object. I leaned over. It was a young, slightly dissolved rose. Two hours ago, I saw this very rose on her chest. I carefully picked up a flower that had fallen into the dirt and, returning to the living room, put it on the table, in front of her chair. So she returned at last – and, walking lightly through the entire room, sat down at the table. Her face was pale and alive; quickly, with cheerful embarrassment, they ran down the sides, dropping like small eyes. She saw a rose, grabbed it, looked at her crumpled, soiled petals, looked at me, – and her eyes, suddenly stopped, began to shine with tears. – What are you crying about? – I asked. – Yes, that’s about this rose. Look at what has become of her. Then I decided to show profound thoughts. “Your tears will wash away this dirt,” I said with considerable expression. “They don’t wash tears, they burn tears,” she turned to the fireplace and threw a flower into the dying flame. “The fire will burn even better tears,” she exclaimed, not without a distance, “and the cross-eyes, still glistening with tears, laughed boldly and happily. I realized that she too was burned. (

I SEE YOU, PEOPLE!

– Hello, Bezhana! Yes, it’s me, Sosoyya … For a long time I was not with you, my Bezhana! I’m sorry. Now I’ll put everything in order here: I’ll clear the grass, fix the cross, repaint the bench … Look, the rose has already faded … Yes, the time has passed considerably … And how much news I have for you, Bejan! I do not know where to start! Wait a moment, pull out this weed and tell you everything in order …

Well, my dear Bejan: the war is over! Do not know our village now! The guys are back from the front, Bezhana! Gerasim’s son returned, Nina’s son returned, Minin Yevgeny returned, and Nodar Tadpole’s father returned, and Otia’s father. True, he is without one leg, but what does it matter? Just think, foot. But our Kukuri, Lukayin Kukuri, did not return. The son of Mashiko Malkhaz also did not return … Many did not return, Bezhan, and yet in our village we have a holiday! Salt, corn appeared … Ten weddings were played after you, and on each one I was among the honored guests and drank great! Do you remember George Tsertsvadze? Yes, yes, father of eleven children! So, George, too, returned, and his wife Taliko gave birth to the twelfth boy, Shukriya. That was fun, Bezhana! Taliko was on a tree, collecting plums, when her childbirth began! Hear, Bezhana? I almost was not resolved on the tree! I managed to go down yet! The child was named Shukriya, but I call him Slivovic. Wow, really, Bezhana? Slivovich! The worse Georgievich? In total, we had thirteen children after you … Yes, one more news, Bezhana, – I know, she will please you. Khatia father drove to Batumi. She will have an operation and she will see! Then? Then … You know, Bezhana, how much I love Khatia? So marry her! Of course! I will celebrate the wedding, a great wedding! And we will have children. What? What if she does not see the light? Yes, Aunt also asked me about it … I’m getting married anyway, Bezhana! You can’t live without me … And I can’t live without Khatia … Did you love Minador? So I love my Khatia … And my aunt loves him … Of course, she loves, otherwise she would not have asked the postman every day if there was a letter for her … She is waiting for him! You know who … But you know that he will not return to her … And I am waiting for my Khatia. For me it doesn’t matter what she comes back – sighted, blind. And what if she doesn’t like me? What do you think, Bezhana? True, my aunt says that I have matured, prettier that it is difficult to even know me, but … what the hell is not joking. However, no, it cannot be that I did not like Khatia! She knows what I am, she sees me, she has spoken about this more than once … I graduated from ten classes, Bezhana! I think to go to college. I will become a doctor, and if Khatii does not help in Batumi now, I will cure her. So, Bezhana?

– Absolutely our Sosoya went crazy? Who are you talking to?

– Ah, hello, Uncle Gerasim!

– Hello! What are you doing here?

– So, I came to look at the grave of Bezhan …

– Go to the office … Vissarion and Khatia returned … – Gerasim lightly patted my cheek.

My breath stopped.

– Run, run, son, meet … – I did not let Gerasim finish speaking, jumped, started, and rushed down the slope.

Quick, Sosoya, quick. So – far away, cut the road for this beam! Jump. Quick, Sosoya. I run like I never ran in my life. Ringing in the ears, the heart is ready to jump out of your chest, your knees give way away … Do not even think about stopping, Sosoya. Run! If you jump over this ditch, it means that everything is all right with Khatia … He jumped over. If you reach that tree without breathing, it means that everything is all right with Khatia … So … A little more … Two more steps … I ran. If you count to fifty without taking a breath, it means that everything is all right with Khatia … One, two, three … ten, eleven, twelve … Forty-five, forty-six … Oh, how difficult …

Gasping, I ran to them and stopped. I couldn’t say a word more.

– Soso! – said Khatia quietly.

I looked at her. Khatia’s face was white as chalk. She looked with her huge, beautiful eyes off into the distance, smiling past me.

Vissarion stood with his head down and was silent.

– Well, Uncle Vissarion? Vissarion did not answer.

– The doctors said that it is impossible to do the operation. They ordered to come next spring … calmly said Khatia.

My God, why did I not count to fifty ?! My throat tickled. I covered my face with my hands.

– How are you, Sosoya? Do you have some new?

I hugged Khatia and kissed her cheek. Uncle Vissarion took out a handkerchief, wiped dry eyes, coughed and left.

– How are you, Sosoya? – repeated Khatia.

– Well … And do not be afraid, Khatia … In the spring, after all, they will have an operation? – I stroked Khatia in the face.

She narrowed her eyes and became so beautiful, such that the Mother of God herself would envy her …

– Do not worry, Khatia!

– And I’m not afraid, Sosoya!

– And if they can not help you, I will do it, Khatia, I swear to you!

– If not even … So what? Can you see me?

– What else do you want?

– Nothing more, Sosoya!

Where are you going, road, and where are you leading my village? Do you remember? In one of the June days, you took away everything that was dear to me in the world. I asked you, dear, and you returned to me everything you could return. I thank you, dear! Now came our turn. You will take us, me and Khatia, and lead you to where your end should be. But we don’t want you to have an end. Hand in hand, we will walk with you ad infinitum. You will never again have to deliver news of us in our village in triangular letters and envelopes with printed addresses. We will be back yourself, dear! We will be facing east, we will see the rising of the golden sun, and then Khatia will tell the whole world:

– People, it’s me, Khatia! I see you people!

(Nodar Dumbadze “I see you, people! …”

Near the big city, an old, sick man was walking along a wide road.

He reeled on the move; his emaciated legs, tangling, dragging and stumbling, walked heavily and weakly, as if

strangers; his clothes hung in rags; uncovered head fell on his chest. He was exhausted.

He sat down on a roadside stone, leaned forward, leaned over, covered his face with both hands – and through curved fingers, tears flowed onto dry, gray dust.

He recalled how he was once healthy and rich – and how he spent his health, and gave wealth to others, friends and foes. And now he does not have a piece of bread – and everyone left him, his friends were even earlier enemies. Is he down to begging for alms? And his heart was bitter and ashamed.

And tears all dripped and dripped, mottled gray dust.

Suddenly, he heard someone calling him by name; he raised his tired head – and saw a stranger in front of him.

The face is calm and important, but not stern; eyes are not radiant, but bright; gaze piercing, but not angry.

“You have distributed all your wealth,” came a steady voice. – But you do not regret what good did?

“I don’t regret,” the old man answered with a sigh, “only now am I dying.”

“And there would not have been beggars in the world who extended their hands to you,” continued the stranger, “who couldn’t show your virtue to you, could you practice in it?”

The old man did not answer – and thought.

“So now you are not proud, poor man,” the stranger spoke again, “go, stretch out your hand, and you, too, will give other good people the opportunity to show that they are kind.”

The old man gave a start, raised his eyes. but the stranger has already disappeared; and in the distance a pedestrian appeared on the road.

The old man approached him – and stretched out his hand. This passerby turned away with a stern look and did not give anything.

But another followed him, and he gave the old man small alms.

And the old man bought bread for himself for these pennies – and the eaten out piece seemed sweet to him – and there was no shame in his heart, but on the contrary: quiet joy came over him.

Yes, once I was happy. I have long defined what happiness is, a long time ago at six years old. And when it came to me, I did not immediately recognize it. But I remembered how it should be, and then I realized that I was happy. * * * I remember: I am six years old, my sister is four. We spent a long time after lunch running along the long hall, chasing each other, screaming and falling. Now we are tired and quiet. Nearby, we look out the window at the dull-spring twilight street. Twilight spring is always anxious and always sad. And we are silent. We listen to how the chandeliers of the candelabra shake from the carts passing down the street. If we were big, we would think about human malice, hurt feelings, about our love that we offended, and about the love we offended ourselves, and about happiness no. But we are children, and we know nothing. We are only silent. We look terrible. It seems to us that the hall has already completely darkened and darkened the whole of this large, echoing house in which we live. Why is he so quiet now? Maybe everyone left him and forgot us, little girls, who were pressed against the window in a dark huge room? (* 61) I see my scared, round eye of my sister near my shoulder. She looks at me – to cry to her or not? And then I remember my day impression today, so bright, so beautiful, that I forget at once the dark house and the dimly dreary street. – Lena! – I speak loudly and cheerfully. – Lena! Today I saw a show jumping! I can not tell her all about the immensely joyful impression that the horse made on me. The horses were white and ran soon, soon; the car itself was red or yellow, beautiful, there were a lot of people in it, all strangers, so that they could get to know each other and even play some quiet game. And there was a conductor standing on the footboard, all in gold — or maybe not all, but only a little, on buttons — and he blew the golden pipe: “Ррам-рра-ra! The sun itself rang in this pipe and flew out her golden splashes. How can you tell it all! You can only say: – Lena! I saw the show jumping! Yes, and nothing more is needed. In my voice, in my face, she understood all the infinite beauty of this vision. And can anyone really jump into this chariot of joy and rush to the chiming of the solar pipe? – Rram-pp-ra! No, not everyone. Fraulein says you have to pay for it. That’s why they don’t take us there. We are locked into a boring, musty carriage with a rattling window, smelling of morocco and patchouli, and they do not even allow us to press our nose to the glass. But when we are big and rich, we will only ride a horse. We will, we will, we will be happy!

Kitten of the Lord God

One grandmother in the village got sick, bored and gathered in the next world.

Her son didn’t come, didn’t answer the letter, so grandmother prepared to die, let the cattle go to the flock, put a clean water bottle by the bed, put a piece of bread under the pillow, put the vile bucket closer and lay down to read the prayers, and the guardian angel stood up her in their heads.

And a boy came to this village with his mother.

They had everything quite well, their own grandmother functioned, kept the garden, goats and chickens, but this grandmother was not particularly welcomed when the grandson tore up berries and cucumbers in the garden: it all matured and ripened for winter stocks, jams and pickles to the same grandson, and if necessary, the grandmother herself will give.

This kicked out grandson walked around the village and noticed a kitten, small, big-headed and big-bellied, gray and fluffy.

The kitten strayed to the child, began rubbing on his sandals, casting sweet dreams on the boy: how could the kitten be fed, sleep with him, play.

And the boys, the guardian angel rejoiced, standing behind his right shoulder, because everyone knows that the Lord himself equipped the kitten in the white light, as he equips his children all of us. And if the white light receives another being sent by God, then this white light continues to live.

And every living creature is a test for those already settled: will they accept a new one or not.

So, the boy grabbed the kitten in his arms and began to stroke it and gently press it to itself. And behind his left elbow there was a demon, who was also very interested in the kitten and the mass of possibilities associated with this particular kitten.

The guardian angel got worried and began drawing magic pictures: the cat sleeps on the boy’s pillow, plays the piece of paper, goes for a walk like a dog at the foot … And the devil pushed the boy under his left elbow and suggested: it would be nice to tie a kitten on the tail can! It would be nice to throw him into the pond and watch, dying with laughter, how he will try to swim out! These bulging eyes! And many other different proposals brought the demon into the hot head of the ousted boy, while he was walking home with a kitten in his arms.

And at home, the grandmother immediately cursed him, why did he carry the flea into the kitchen, then his cat is sitting in the hut, and the boy objected that he would take him with him to the city, but then the mother entered into conversation, and everything was over, the kitten was told take it from where it went and throw it over the fence.

The boy walked with the kitten and threw him over all the fences, and the kitten cheerfully jumped out to meet him in a few steps and again rode and played with him.

So the boy reached the fence of that grandmother, who was about to die with a supply of water, and again the kitten was thrown, but then he immediately disappeared.

And again the demon pushed the boy under his elbow and pointed him to someone else’s good garden, where hung ripe raspberries and black currants, where the gooseberry gilded.

Bes reminded the boy that the local grandmother was sick, the whole village knew about it, the grandmother was already bad, and the demon told the boy that no one would stop him from eating raspberries and cucumbers.

The guardian angel began to persuade the boy not to do this, but the raspberries were so alae in the rays of the setting sun!

The guardian angel wept that theft would not bring to the good, that thieves throughout the land were despised and put in cages like pigs and that it was a shame on a person to take someone else’s – but it was all in vain!

Then the guardian angel finally began to scare the boy at the fear that his grandmother would see from the window.

But the demon had already opened the garden’s gate with the words “he saw, that it should not come out,” and laughed at the angel.

And the grandmother, lying in bed, suddenly noticed a kitten, who climbed into her window, jumped on the bed and turned on her little motor, smearing herself in her grandmother’s frozen legs.

Grandma was glad to him, her own cat poisoned, apparently, rat poison from the neighbors in the garbage.

The kitten mumbled, rubbed his head against the grandmother’s feet, received a slice of black bread from her, ate it and immediately fell asleep.

And we already said that the kitten was not simple, but he was the kitten of the Lord God, and the magic happened at the same moment, immediately knocked on the window, and an old woman with his wife and child hung with backpacks and bags: having received a maternally letter that came very late, he did not answer, no longer hoping for mail, but demanded leave, grabbed his family and set off on a journey along the route bus – train station – train – bus – bus – an hour on foot through two small rivers, forest yes field, and finally arrived.

His wife, rolling up his sleeves, began to disassemble the bags with supplies, cook dinner, he himself took the hammer and moved to repair the gate, their son kissed the grandmother’s nose, picked up the kitten and went to the garden along the raspberry, where he met an outside boy, and here the guardian angel of the thief clutched at his head, and the devil stepped back, speaking his tongue and smiling brazenly, the unfortunate thief also behaved in the same way.

The host boy carefully planted the kitten on the overturned bucket, and he himself gave the thief around the neck, and he rushed faster than the wind to the gate, which the Babkin’s son had just begun to repair, shielding the entire space with his back.

Bes usmygnul through the fence, the angel closed his sleeve and wept, but the kitten eagerly stood up for the child, and the angel helped to compose, that de boy did not use the raspberry, but for his kitten, who de escaped. Or it is the devil composed, standing behind the fence and talking his tongue, the boy did not understand.

In short, the boy was released, but the adult did not give him a kitten, ordered him to come with his parents.

As for the grandmother, she was still left to live: she got up to meet the cattle in the evening, and cooked jam in the morning, worrying that they would eat everything and have nothing to give my son in the city, and at midday she shaved a sheep and a ram to have time to tie mittens to the whole family and socks.

Here our life is needed – here we live.

And the boy, left without a kitten and without raspberries, walked gloomy, but that evening he received a bowl of strawberries with milk from his grandmother who did not know why, and his mother read him a fairy tale for the night, and the guardian angel was immensely pleased and settled in the sleeping in their heads like all six year old children.

Kitten of the Lord God

One grandmother in the village got sick, bored and gathered in the next world.

Her son didn’t come, didn’t answer the letter, so grandmother prepared to die, let the cattle go to the flock, put a clean water bottle by the bed, put a piece of bread under the pillow, put the vile bucket closer and lay down to read the prayers, and the guardian angel stood up her in their heads.

And a boy came to this village with his mother.

They had everything quite well, their own grandmother functioned, kept the garden, goats and chickens, but this grandmother was not particularly welcomed when the grandson tore up berries and cucumbers in the garden: it all matured and ripened for winter stocks, jams and pickles to the same grandson, and if necessary, the grandmother herself will give.

This kicked out grandson walked around the village and noticed a kitten, small, big-headed and big-bellied, gray and fluffy.

The kitten strayed to the child, began rubbing on his sandals, casting sweet dreams on the boy: how could the kitten be fed, sleep with him, play.

And the boys, the guardian angel rejoiced, standing behind his right shoulder, because everyone knows that the Lord himself equipped the kitten in the white light, as he equips his children all of us.

And if the white light receives another being sent by God, then this white light continues to live.

And every living creature is a test for those already settled: will they accept a new one or not.

So, the boy grabbed the kitten in his arms and began to stroke it and gently press it to itself.

And behind his left elbow there was a demon, who was also very interested in the kitten and the mass of possibilities associated with this particular kitten.

The guardian angel got worried and began to draw magic pictures: the cat sleeps on the boy’s pillow, here he plays with a piece of paper, here he goes for a walk like a little dog at his foot.

And the demon pushed the boy under his left elbow and suggested: it would be good to tie a tin can to the kitten on the tail! It would be nice to throw him into the pond and watch, dying with laughter, how he will try to swim out! These bulging eyes!

And many other different proposals brought the demon into the hot head of the ousted boy, while he was walking home with a kitten in his arms.

And at home, the grandmother immediately cursed him, why did he carry the flea into the kitchen, then his cat is sitting in the hut, and the boy objected that he would take him with him to the city, but then the mother entered into conversation, and everything was over, the kitten was told take it from where it went and throw it over the fence.

The boy walked with the kitten and threw him over all the fences, and the kitten cheerfully jumped out to meet him in a few steps and again rode and played with him.

So the boy reached the fence of that grandmother, who was about to die with a supply of water, and again the kitten was thrown, but then he immediately disappeared.

And again the demon pushed the boy under his elbow and pointed him to someone else’s good garden, where hung ripe raspberries and black currants, where the gooseberry gilded.

Bes reminded the boy that the local grandmother was sick, the whole village knew about it, the grandmother was already bad, and the demon told the boy that no one would stop him from eating raspberries and cucumbers.

The guardian angel began to persuade the boy not to do this, but the raspberries were so alae in the rays of the setting sun!

The guardian angel wept that theft would not bring to the good, that thieves throughout the earth were despised and put in cages like pigs, and that it was a shame on a person to take someone else’s – but it was all in vain!

Then the guardian angel finally began to scare the boy at the fear that his grandmother would see from the window.

But the demon had already opened the garden gate with the words "he will see" and laughed at the angel.

Grandma was fat, wide, with a soft, melodious voice. “I filled the whole apartment with myself. Grumbled Borkin’s father. And his mother timidly objected to him: “Old man. Where can she go? ”“ Healed in the world. – the father sighed. “Her place in the invalid home is where it is!”

Everyone in the house, including Borka, looked at her grandmother as a completely unnecessary person.

Grandma slept on the chest. All night long she tossed from side to side, and in the morning she got up before everyone else and thundered in the kitchen with dishes. Then she woke her son-in-law and daughter: “The samovar is ripe. Get up! Drink some hot on the track. “

She approached Borka: “Get up, my dear, it’s time to go to school!” “Why?” Borka asked in a sleepy voice. “Why school? The dark man is deaf and dumb – that’s why! ”

Borka hid his head under the blanket: “You go, Grandma. “

In the hall, father shuffled with a broom. “Where are you, mother, galoshes delhi? Every time you poke into all corners because of them! ”

Grandma rushed to his aid. “Why, here they are, Petrusha, in plain sight. Yesterday I was very dirty, I washed them and set them. ”

. He came from the school of Borka, dumped his overcoat and hat into the hands of the grandmother, threw a bag with books on the table and shouted: “Grandma, eat!”

Grandma hid her knitting, hastily set the table and, crossing her arms over her belly, watched Borka eat. In these hours, somehow involuntarily, Borka felt his grandmother with his close friend. He willingly told her about the lessons, comrades. Grandma listened to him lovingly, with great attention, saying: “Everything is fine, Boryushka: both good and bad are good. From a bad person is done stronger, from a good soul he blooms. “

After eating, Borka pushed the plate away from him: “Delicious jelly today! Have you eaten, grandma? ”“ Eaten, eaten, ”grandma nodded with her head. “Do not care about me, Borjushka, I, thank you, are fed up and healthy.”

Comrade came to Borka. A comrade said: “Hello, grandmother!” Borka cheerfully nudged him: “Come on, come on! You can not greet her. She is our old lady. ” Grandma pulled up her jacket, straightened her handkerchief and quietly moved her lips: “Hurt – what to hit, caress – you have to look for words.”

And in the next room, comrade Borka said: “And they always say hello to our grandmother. And their own, and others. She’s our main. “How is this the main one?” Borka became interested. “Well, old one. all raised. She can not be offended. And what are you with your way? Look, father will take it up. ” “It will not get hot!” – frowned Borka. – He does not greet her. “

After this conversation, Borka often unexpectedly asked his grandmother: “Are we insulting you?” And his parents said: “Our grandmother is better than everyone, and she lives worse than everyone — no one cares about her.” Mother was surprised, and father was angry: “Who taught you to condemn your parents? Look at me – still small! ”

Grandma, smiling softly, shook her head: “You would be silly to rejoice. For you, the son grows! I have outlived my life, and your old age is ahead. What you kill, you will not return. “

Borka was generally interested in the face of the grandmother. There were different wrinkles on this face: deep, small, thin, like strings, and wide, dug over the years. “Why are you so painted? Very old? ”He asked. Grandma thought. “By wrinkles, darling, human life, like a book, can be read. Grief and need signed here. Children buried, crying – lay on the face of wrinkles. She suffered need, struggled – again wrinkles. My husband was killed in the war – there were many tears, many wrinkles remained. Big rain and he digs holes in the ground. ”

Borka listened and looked in the mirror with fear: did he really scream in his life — would his whole face be dragged out with such threads? “Go, Grandma! He grumbled. – Saying is always nonsense. “

For the last time, the grandmother suddenly stooped, her back became round, she walked more quietly and everything sat down. “It grows into the ground,” the father joked. “Do not laugh at the old man,” the mother took offense. And to the grandmother in the kitchen, she said: “What is this, you, mother, how do the turtle move around the room? You will send for something and you will not wait back. “

Grandmother died before the May holiday. She died alone, sitting in a chair with a knit in her hands: an unfinished sock lay on her lap, a ball of thread on the floor. I waited, apparently, Borka. Standing on the table is the finished device.

The next day, the grandmother was buried.

Returning from the courtyard, Borka found his mother sitting in front of the opened chest. On the floor was dumped all junk. It smelled of stale things. Mother took out a crumpled red shoe and gently straightened it with her fingers. “Mine is still,” she said, and bent low over the chest. – Mine. “

At the very bottom of the chest the casket rattled – the same treasured one that Borka always wanted to look into. Casket opened. The father took out a tight bundle: he had warm gloves for Borka, socks for his son-in-law, and a sleeveless jacket for his daughter. They were followed by an embroidered shirt of antique faded silk – also for Borka. In the corner lay a bag of candy, tied with a red ribbon. Something was written on the bag in block letters. My father turned it over in his hands, squinted and loudly read: “To my grandson, Boria.”

Borka suddenly turned pale, snatched the package from him and ran into the street. There, crouching at the front of the gate, he peered for a long time at the grandmother’s scribbles: “To my grandson, Borjushka.” The letter “sh” was four sticks. “I did not learn!” Thought Borka. How many times did he explain to her that there are three sticks in the letter “sh”. And suddenly, as if alive, the grandmother stood before him – quiet, guilty, who had not learned the lesson. Borka looked at his house in bewilderment and, holding the bag in his hand, walked along the street along another’s long fence.

He came home late in the evening; his eyes were swollen with tears, fresh clay stuck to his knees. Babkin’s bag he put under his pillow and, covering his head with a blanket, he thought: “Grandma will not come in the morning!”

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