Why are fairy tales needed? And should your child read them? The answer is clear: you need to read. For example different fairy tales children learn to live, learn to distinguish between good and evil. Thanks to these rather simple and short stories children learn how to behave in different life situations learn not to be afraid of difficulties and life problems. A fairy tale is a kind of model of the world around us. It talks about many of life's difficulties and problems using very simple and understandable examples for children. The fairy tales that we read to children affect their psyche, help to bring up certain character traits in them, help to build a specific line of behavior in different life situations.
These simple stories teach our children to distinguish good from bad, good from evil. Therefore, it is very important to choose the "correct" fairy tales, fairy tales in which good wins and evil loses, or is punished for its bad deeds. Thus, children begin to understand that if they do evil to others, then someday, this evil will return to them. They understand that by doing good deeds, treating others well, they will receive kindness in return, they will be loved and respected, they will have many friends. In order for children to understand the meaning inherent in a particular fairy tale, it must certainly be discussed after reading. Let the child talk about his understanding of the fairy tale, about what this fairy tale taught him, about what he can and cannot do. Thus, the child learns to think, trains memory and attention, develops imagination. Fairy tales help children learn cause and effect relationships, training the still fragile child's psyche and developing a self-confident personality.
Another important reason why it is worth reading fairy tales to children is that reading is a joint pastime for the child and parents. Reading another story at night, you communicate with the child, give him such important time and the attention he needs. It is important for children to communicate with their parents, to spend time with them in order to learn the necessary behavior patterns in order to receive warmth, care and positive emotions. For those parents who spend the whole day at work, not being able to take a walk or chat with own child, a fairy tale is an opportunity to catch up, to understand how their child thinks and what is important for him in life.
Fairy tales are particles of goodness and happiness that have been passed down from generation to generation for many years, this is an invaluable experience acquired by generations and passed on to us and our children in a simple and accessible form.
Why do children need fairy tales? Some parents ask this question. Wouldn't it be better if the child read something useful, not about the magical, but about the real world? Yet the wisest adults come from children who have listened to fairy tales. Let's say more: adults who can see the beauty of the world love fairy tales all their lives. What is the use of fairy tales?
The benefits of fairy tales in awakening the soul!
Fairy tales are an ancient tradition of knowledge transfer
Let today's people it seems that fairy tales are entirely fictional stories. Northern old people know: true story is like tar, and fiction is like water. Fairy tales that do not find reflection in the soul of the people die quickly, just as drops of water roll down from a tree trunk. Only true stories With deep meaning are like resin that solidifies and forever preserves the magical moment of a fairy tale.
Do you know that at the beginning of the 20th century they tried to create stories reminiscent of Russian epics, only their heroes were leaders and tsars? How many similar stories do you remember yourself? Artificially created epics, even resembling real northern legends in form, did not take root among the people. Only the story that touches something in the souls of people becomes a fairy tale. This is the real benefit of fairy tales: by reading them, you can catch what was most important for our Ancestors, what values the Slavs preserved, what lessons they passed on from father to son.
Why are fairy tales needed? There are two answers here: about the benefits of magical stories for children and for adults.
Why do children need fairy tales?
Now many parents are trying to awaken the mind of the child before awakening his soul. Toddlers are taken to math classes and foreign languages even before the child learns to walk and talk. In olden times, child care was different. Mother, grandmothers and older sisters sang lullabies to the baby, and father or grandfather told fairy tales. So gradually the soul of the child began to awaken. Still not knowing much about the world, he felt in his heart the difference between good and evil, learned about the most important thing: that there is friendship, love, honor in the world.
Why do children need fairy tales?
Why are fairy tales needed? To teach a child to dream, to strive for more, to find their own way. A person who felt the spark of his soul in childhood will remember this in the darkest moments of life, and Inner Light show him the right path. That is why, in the old days, people themselves strove for knowledge, and now children, with early years those who study complex sciences, when they grow up, no longer want to know anything. Is it surprising if they do not feel the light of their own soul?
Why does modern man need a fairy tale?
“Children, laughing, biting off slices of fragrant cookies, rushed in a flock to last home in the village to sprinkle crumbs on the field. And they stood up as if rooted to the spot when they saw a tall, long-haired old man who had already stepped onto the wooden pavements.
- And I know who it is, - whispered the older blond girl, whom everyone called Vesnyanka. - But I won’t tell you, I’ll invite him to stay with us, in the evening and find out! The old man, as he heard everything, came closer, took the narrow girl's hand in his and said in an unexpectedly thick melodious voice;
- Well, lead, beauty, to your father, I haven’t seen him for a long time, there is something to talk about together!
- Boyan has come, - the wives joyfully called to each other, and the men twisted their mustaches and smiled. In the evening, whoever came first to the headman in the hut, he occupied the benches, and whoever came late, remained standing embarrassed.
- Will you sing dear guest, will you play your harp for us? - this is Starostina Zhonka, mother Vesnyanka, added another lingonberry pie to the guest and poured tea.
- How not to sing, if you want to listen!
We are calling spring today, sing about love, sweet-voiced Boyan! Or whatever you choose.
And the harp rang with an iridescent ringing, and in front of the enchanted listeners it was no longer an old man in a white robe embroidered with red patterns, but magic pictures past…”This is how storytellers were met in the North in olden times. The ability to sing epics and tell magic stories was valued on a par with the skill of artisans or hunters. Entire dynasties of storytellers are known in the Russian North. When scientists discovered the miracle of the northern fairy tale, our grandparents, singers of epics, even came to the capital and collected whole theater halls. Can you imagine a hall full of people gathered to listen fairy tale?
In the old days they understood the benefits of fairy tales not only for children, but also for an adultWhy adults needed fairy tales educated people? Northern epics, long and measured, tuned in a special way, calmed the mind. Stories Slavic Gods and heroes are often closer to adults than to children. Where a child hears only a fairy tale, an adult can notice wise lesson. The use of a fairy tale is that it helps to see your life differently, to look at your path from a height where the soul rises following the words of the narrator, and to see the right path where there used to be a dead end.
Why do you need fairy tales?
Here everyone will have their own answer. Someone wants to meet folk traditions, ancient customs, the description of which has been preserved in northern tales. Someone wants to teach children wisdom and from childhood to introduce Slavic myth. And someone does not even realize why he likes fairy tales so much, but every time after reading them he feels that he is ready to live joyfully and do good.
And also read:
No generation has grown up without fairy tales. Russian folklore is created from the very beginning of the formation of speech. Distinctive feature of this genre in that it is created common people. Life in each of our eras rich history undoubtedly superimposed on the legends. But what gives us the old good fairy tale? On the this question gives the answer in his text.
In the text presented to us, Ivan Alexandrovich, a Russian philosopher and writer, raises an exciting problem. The problem of the presence of a fairy tale in our life. In the text, the author begins his reasoning with questions: “What does a person ask a fairy tale about and what exactly does it answer him? What draws them there (to the world of fairy tales)? A person, asking himself questions, can find the answer to them in fairy tales. The author claims that "the fairy tale generously suggests how to be a person ... in trouble and misfortune." The author continues his reasoning with, again, questions that arise in a person, even a very young one: “Is it true that the possible is only possible, and the impossible is really impossible?” And the author confidently answers that “wise antiquity blesses Russian infancy for ... difficulties life path».
I fully share the position of the author. After all, indeed, a fairy tale contains answers to those questions that are always relevant. Fairy tales play a huge role in the education of a person. So, for example, in the distant past, already in the 13th century, during the invasion of Batu, almost the entire population was subject to defeat. But a hero appeared, whose name everyone knows to this day - this is Evpaty Kolovrat. He was a Ryazan boyar who rallied Russian heroes around him, and fought with all his might against Tatar-Mongol yoke. His courage, courage, patriotism were the reason for the composition of many fairy tales, for example, "The Legend of Kolovrat", which were passed down from generation to generation.
Also known to all of us heroes: Ilya Muromets, Alyosha Popovich, Dobrynya Nikitich, also appeared "by ear" thanks to the victories and exploits of the Russian people. Creating tales and legends that were told simple people to each other, sitting by the fire in the evening after have a hard day, instilled in a person faith in the best.
So, having thought a little about the problem, I want to say that fairy tales teach us goodness and peace. Thanks to the fairy tales that we hear or read, we form an internal guide in life. We know what should be valued in life: love, friendship, honor... We naively believe that good always triumphs over evil... But who can argue now that this is not so?..
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Updated: 2018-03-26
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The word spoken at the evening of the Russian fairy tale in Berlin on May 3, 1934
My lords, Russian people! Whatever shadow may come over your life - whether anxiety about the fate of Russia will visit you, whether black thoughts about your personal fate will come to you, or life will simply seem like an unbearable wound - remember the Russian fairy tale and listen to its quiet, ancient, wise voice . Do not think that a fairy tale is child's play, a frivolous matter for smart person: an adult de invents, tells a small one; but the little ones listen and believe; they believe that there was one that did not exist, as if there really was something that could not be. And don't think that adults are smart and children are stupid; and that an adult needs to become dull on purpose in order to tell a fairy tale to children; but in order to read or create a fairy tale for yourself, an adult and intelligent, it’s not worth getting dull ... Isn’t it the other way around? Is it not from the mind that a good half of our grief is born?
And what is stupidity? And is all stupidity harmful and shameful? Or maybe there is not stupid stupidity, not harmful and not shameful, but sharp-sighted and faithful, desirable and blessed, beginning in a stupid way and ending in a smart way? Maybe there are two different stupidities: one is stupid and the other is instructive? One from dust and dirt, and the other from black soil? One from blind complacency, and the other from experiencing bewilderment? One is stupid with pride and leads to vulgarity; and the other foolish from humility and leads to wisdom ... And so, this is precisely the folk and especially Russian, folk tale. She does not claim anything, she does not impose herself on anyone, she does not start anything. - Do not listen - do not listen ...
She is like a flower; but not a garden flower, not deliberately and skillfully grown, but like a wild flower that itself sows, takes root on its own, kicks out the leaves and unfolds the cup, God's sun eels, God's rain is watered, God's bird is sung. He will give his honey to God's bee. And that honey - wonderfully fragrant - will not be given to a proud wise man from the educated, but will be given from a bee only to a simple and wise beekeeper. And so, the Russian folk tale is like the color of imperceptible and unknown wildflowers; a spiritual meaning hers is like fine and fragrant honey: you will taste and hear in your tongue all the inexpressible nature native nature- and smell native land, and heat native sun, and the breath of native flowers, and something subtle and rich, eternally young and eternally ancient - all in combinations of indescribable taste and aroma.
For hundreds of years this fragrance has been accumulating in imperceptible and unknown human souls, in Russian souls imperceptibly blooming and unknown fading on the plains of our homeland. Hundreds and thousands of years of this sediment of national spiritual experience, hidden and unfolded in Russian folk tales. Let the history of our people total only one thousand years; but the age of a people is not determined by the memory of its history. After all, it was a thousand years ago that our people came to their senses and began to somehow remember themselves - they came to their senses by adopting Christianity and retaining something pre-Christian in their memory. But this pre-Christian past of him, lost by his memory, was not lost in his experience and in his spirit. All his former, forgotten in the form of authentic events, unremembered and forgotten, he took with him and transferred into his conscious history. This is not a chronicle, not an epic and not a byvalshchina; not a life and not a legend; - it's a teardrop. So it wasn't; all of this never happened. These princes and bogatyrs have never been and lived anywhere, these Gray wolves and kashchei, these Ivans-Fools and talking horses, these Baba-Yagas and Serpents of Gorynychi, All this was not. And the one who swore historical science but broke with the science of spiritual experience; who worships a proven fact and has forgotten how to contemplate the shown situation, who wants to see with the earthly bodily eye and therefore gouged out his spiritual eye; whoever, from excessive cleverness, has blotted out the prophetic simplicity and abstruse depth in himself, who has brought his rational sobriety to the point that he has lost the ability to get drunk along with his people at the feast of an all-transforming imagination - let the folk tale be dead and let it seem stupid to him ...
So, let the fairy tale be stupid. But in her stupidity she is modest; and for her modesty, that she does not claim anything, and does not start anything, and does not impose herself on anyone, her stupidity is forgiven her ... Let the fairy tale be considered stupid. But she has the courage to be stupid. And for her courage - that she does not hide her unreliability, that she is not ashamed of hers. simpleness, that she is not afraid of strict questions and contemptuous smiles - her stupidity is forgiven her ... And her stupidity is also forgiven her for her selfless gullibility, for the fact that she believes her vision, that she peers with serious reverence at the unfolding events of her tale, that she lives by her images and expects the last from them - a sigh that unleashes, releases and forgives ... And her stupidity is also forgiven her for her sincerity: for as sparks fly from a fire and illuminate the darkness, so fabulous visions fly directly from the heart of the people, from his love and hate, out of his fear and hopes; and, flying out, illuminate everyday life, its dullness and hopelessness. And therefore - it is a sin and a shame to talk about stupidity folk tales.
The themes of fairy tales live in the wise depths of human instinct, somewhere out there, in sacred cellars, under seven or ten iron pillars, where the knots of national existence and national character and where they await permission, fulfillment, and freedom. Neither the proud, nor the coward, nor the lack of faith, nor the crooked soul can penetrate into these cellars of national spiritual experience. But a trusting and sincere simpleton, but a modest and brave contemplator in his poetic seriousness - penetrate these vaults and bring out a swarm of folk tales from there, resolving, accomplishing and liberating. And for him, these tales are not fiction and not fiction, but poetic insight, real reality and initial philosophy. And it is not a fairy tale that has outlived its time if we have forgotten how to live it; and we have distorted our mental and spiritual way of life, and we weather and die if we have lost access to our folk tale.
What is this approach to a fairy tale? What needs to be done so that a fairy tale, like a hut on chicken legs, becomes its back to the forest, and its front to us? How can we see it and live it, so that its prophetic depth is revealed to us and its true spiritual meaning becomes clear? To do this, one must first of all not cling to the sober mind of daytime consciousness with all its observations, generalizations and laws of nature. The tale sees something other than the daytime consciousness of man; she sees something else and differently: both less and more. And less, because she sees only short, simplified, concentrated snippets from the life of heroes. This brevity is the result of artistic reduction: a fairy tale is told for twenty minutes, and spans, perhaps, twenty years. (That's why - soon the fairy tale is told - but the deed is not done soon); a fairy tale is told somewhere around the corner, on the stove, and the hero will visit the thirtieth state two and three times. This brevity of the tale is artistic; its simplicity is stylistic; its concentration is symbolic. For a fairy tale is a fragment of folk and popular art. A fairy tale is already an art: for it hides and reveals behind words the whole world images, and beyond the images it understands, artistically and symbolically, deep spiritual circumstances. And at the same time, a fairy tale is not yet quite an art: for it lives, being passed from mouth to mouth, and does not have a single, complete composition - neither in words, nor in images, now and then ready to fall apart into various options and modifications, artistically unequal, and end with a new, unexpected denouement, not always making ends meet. Everyone is free to tell the tale in his own way, as it seems best to him, and persuasion better than money: do not interfere with lying. Therefore, there is a fairy tale national theme for a personal dream, and this theme seems to say to every person: here I am - take me, if you want, and dream of me in your own way ... And in this a fairy tale is like a myth, a song, and a pattern for embroidery or for decorating a hut and the palace.
Thus, the myth says to the poet: take me into your contemplation and give me the final form and body of art; and Homer, and Ovid, and Goethe, and Wagner, and Pushkin respond to this. So, folk song says to all the singers and to each of us: Receive me with your ears in the singing of your soul and sing me from the depths, as God puts on your soul; and all the minstrels, and minnesingers, and button accordions, and folk composers. And in the same way, the pattern (canvas, and carpentry, and marble) seems to say to the master and craftswoman: Here I am! Create me from me, decorating your life and your being with my plexuses; and national embroiderers, joiners and carvers, the great Florentines, and Sienese, and Bergamasks in Italy, and glorious Russian architects from Arkhangelsk to Transcaucasia, from Kyiv to Vladivostok ... Here is the psychological place of a fairy tale: this is art, akin to myth, song and pattern ; creatively born in the depths where dreams, forebodings and insights live in a person. That is why the birth of a fairy tale is both artistic and magical. She not only paints and narrates, but also sings. And the more melodious the tale is, the more singsongly it enters the soul, the stronger its magical, incantatory and convincing effect, the more completely it captures the soul, the more it calms, arranges, frees and makes it wiser.
A fairy tale will be born from the same sources as the incantatory songs of magicians, with their inspiring, commanding-healing power; and this is where these rhythmically insistent repetitions of phrases, verbal figures and images come from in fairy tales ... That is why our great artists, Zhukovsky and Pushkin, sang their favorite fairy tales in verse, saturating the national myth with the power of a magical song and laying the fairy tale into the most perfect and forever unchanged word pattern. Thus, a fairy tale gives both much less and at the same time much more than daytime consciousness.
Nature and day-consciousness have their natural necessity and their natural impossibilities; and the tale is bound neither by this necessity nor by these impossibilities. It has its own need. Its need is different, soul-spiritual, internal, mysterious. This is the necessity of innermost thought, foreboding and dreaming; and at the same time it is the necessity of national destiny, national character and national struggle. A fairy tale does not obey the laws of matter and gravity, time and space. It obeys the laws of artistic dreams and the laws of the national-heroic (sometimes heroic-class) epic. She obeys the laws of omnipotent magic and the demands of the superhuman national strength: it is composed according to the indications of a prophetic dream, a strong-willed impulse and a contemplative comprehension. These laws are mysterious; they can be indulged in, but they are not easy to formulate. Their power is infinite and world-transforming. And it is by them that the fairy tale lives, is composed and breathes.
But listen: my homeland,
Between the desert fishermen
Science is amazing.
Under the roof of eternal silence
Among the forests, in the wilderness
Gray-haired sorcerers live;
To the objects of high wisdom
All their thoughts are directed;
Everyone hears their terrible voice,
What was and what will be again
And they are subject to their formidable will
And the coffin, and love itself.
(Pushkin)
Nothing is impossible for this power; in this world, much is possible that the sober-day consciousness of man does not know and does not take into account. Therefore, to go into a fairy tale means to get away from this daytime consciousness, and from the hateful necessities, and from the accursed impossibilities of the outside world ... Do not listen to a fairy tale in the light of day or a prosaic and wingless consciousness. A fairy tale should be listened to in the evening or at night, in the magical darkness, which removes their familiar and mysterious look from things and gives them the new kind, unexpected and mysterious. A fairy tale must be listened to with a twilight consciousness on the verge of being half asleep and half awake. The cellars and caves of the unconscious must open up to meet the fairy tale, where the soul lives like an infant, combining a child with a sage; where she is childishly stupid and not ashamed of her stupidity; where she is childishly trusting and sincere, helplessly asks and is perplexed, helplessly fears and is horrified; where she no longer invents on purpose and does not play, but goes into a fairy tale with all the seriousness and passion of hope and despair; and no longer remembers that this is a game, because in fact it is no longer a game, but life, life itself - and struggle, and victory, and accomplishment. And whoever really wants to hear a fairy tale must break through the thickness of his soulful prose and petrified sobriety; or, if you like, dissolve it; or, even better, extinguish it the way a candle is blown out — and go into the dark depths of spiritual night. Listen differently - in a different way; new - in a new way; mysterious - mysterious ...
... What does a person ask a fairy tale about? And what exactly does she say to him? A person asks a fairy tale about what always and all people, from century to century, will ask their parents, shepherds and God; about what is important and necessary for all of us, without which it is difficult to live life and without which we still, in labor and suffering, live it; and we leave life without understanding and comprehending much; and at the end of life we sigh... A man asks a fairy tale, and she answers him - about the meaning of earthly life. But he asks like a being who has not yet seen and comprehended God. He asks like a child, helplessly, perplexedly, touching the evil and fear on earth, but not touching or barely touching the robe of God; like a frightened and thoughtful child asks his mother or nanny, with wide-open eyes, in which there is fear, and anxiety, and curiosity, and reverence; as if the answer were easy and simple; and in order to immediately believe... And the answer is given not from religion, but from the pre-religious, magical depths, where instinct, art and life experience have accumulated some national, but not the last, but the penultimate superstitious-pagan wisdom...
What is happiness? Is it wealth? Or in love with freedom? Or maybe in kindness and righteousness? AT sacrificial love good heart?…What is destiny? What does it mean: grief for the smart, and happiness for the fools? And what kind of fools are they? Maybe they are not fools at all? ... Is it possible to live and live falsely in the world? Where does the lie lead? Isn't it stronger, isn't it more profitable than the truth? Or is the truth better and always wins in the end? And what then is the understandable mysterious power of truth? Why does the evil done always or almost always return to the head of the culprit? And if not always, then where is the justice? And why does it happen that the sown goodness, even a small seed of goodness, then blooms on the path of the person who sowed with fragrant flowers of either gratitude and reciprocal kindness, or lifelong devotion, or directly salvation from a terrible misfortune? And if this is not always the case, then why? Isn't some mysterious good power ruling the world, and what are its laws?..
This is what a person, and especially a Russian person, asks about his fairy tale. And all these questions: about happiness, about fate, about truth and evil, about the meaning and ways of life. And the fairy tale answers ... The fairy tale is the first, pre-religious philosophy of the people, its life philosophy set out in free mythical images and in art form. These philosophical answers are hatched by each nation independently, in its own way, in its unconscious national-spiritual laboratory. In Russian fairy tales, the Russian people tried to unravel and untie the knots of their national character, to express their national worldview, to instruct their children in a primitive, but deep life wisdom, - resolving the life, moral, family, household and government issues. A fairy tale is the answer of antiquity, which has experienced everything, to the questions of a child's soul entering the world. Here, Russian antiquity will anoint Russian infancy on the yet untested hard life contemplating from the ancient national bosom always new difficulties of the life path. And it is good for us if, having kept the eternal child in our souls, we can both ask and listen to the voice of our fairy tale ... All people are divided into those who live with a fairy tale and live without a fairy tale. People who live with a fairy tale have the gift and happiness to question their people like a child about the first and last wisdom of life and, like a baby, listen to the answers of its primordial prehistoric philosophy. Such people live in harmony with their national fairy tale. And Russian fairy tales are simple and deep, like the Russian soul itself. They are always young and naive like a child; and always ancient and wise, like a great-grandmother; - as a questioning child and as an answering old woman; both are contemplative babies.
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And eight more stories
This story happened a long time ago, about last Friday. One smart and decent man, yes, a very smart and obscenely decent man, woke up one early morning, at eight, to be exact, looked at his wife sniffing at his side, got up, washed himself, kissed his children (and he had three of them) , drank a cup of morning tea with two spoons of sugar and, having put on a suit, left the house. He caught a taxi and went to Sheremetyevo Airport, for example, two. There he took a ticket for the next plane to Australia. There was still an hour and a half left before the plane, so he went to a bar, had a glass of tequila there, met a beautiful girl, borrowed her phone, smoked five cigarettes and one Havana cigar, and waited for the moment when his plane was called to board. On the plane, he sat down by the window and, having asked the stewardess for whiskey, looked out the window for a long time and thoughtfully. When the plane crashed somewhere in the ocean, he did not become nervous, took a parachute and jumped out without saying goodbye to passengers and crew members. He fell into the water just a couple of kilometers from one uninhabited island. Having swum to the island, the man undressed, lay down on a white sandy beach, looked around a couple of times and after that, with a clear conscience, went crazy.
2. Tale about a boy and life
There lived a boy. He was so light that in childhood, his parents tied a rope to him so that he would not fly away, and so they took him out for a walk, on a rope. Of course, it was difficult for the boy to communicate with his peers, they all strove to let go of the rope and see what would happen. Therefore, he did not communicate almost. I only walked with my parents.
Then it was time for the boy to go to school. And parents could not be with him all the time. Then they gave him a brick and strictly forbade letting this brick out of his hands. So the boy went to school for ten years, with a brick. Which, by the way, was occasionally useful, because with this same brick you could beat hooligans and crack nuts for the girl Nastya with big blue eyes. The boy got used to the brick and, in general, even somehow became related to it. But with age, the boy became lighter, and one brick could no longer hold him. Therefore, I had to pick up new bricks or just carry a briefcase to Nastya's house, it was also quite heavy.
So the boy would have lived on, if not for one case. When he had already finished school, and even college, and had already become almost a big man at his place of work, he met a strange girl. It happened late in the evening, when he was walking home, pressing his chin on the bricks, of which there were already quite a few. And then, out of nowhere, an incredible beautiful girl.
Hello, she said.
Hello,” he replied, trying not to drop the bricks.
I am Life, said the girl. - Do you like me?
Very much, he replied.
But I can be with you. You just have to agree. Then you won't have any more bricks. They will just be in you. You will feel good and comfortable. And we will live with you in a small apartment, listen to music and drink mint tea. Tell me, do you agree?
At first, the boy really wanted to answer that he agreed, but then he thought about it. So he still stands, clutching the bricks to himself, and thinks. And Life is sitting next to him, with his head on his knees, waiting for him to answer.
3. Tale of fear
Once upon a time - well, of course! - again a boy. The boy really wanted to become an astronaut. Every day he approached his mother and asked: “Mom, will I become an astronaut?” And his mother was very honest, so she answered: “No, son, you won’t, there are overloads, centrifuges, and you even feel sick on carousels.” The boy was upset and went into the yard, where he looked with hatred at the carousel and at the children riding on it. He could sit for hours near the carousel and bore it with his eyes. It seemed to him that the carousel was to blame for the fact that he would not be taken as an astronaut.
Then the boy got tired of just looking at the carousel, and he began to ride on a swing. And even the very first in the yard was able to make a “sun”. Everyone was very jealous of him, but anyway, sometimes late in the evening, when all the children were already called home, he got out into the yard and tried to ride on the carousel.
One day, when he was walking home after another failed attempt he met Fear. Fear stood near the swing and looked at it in horror.
And what are you doing here? the boy asked.
I'm afraid here.
Is it interesting? the boy asked.
Yes, of course, said Fear.
And I can do the “sun”, the boy boasted and climbed onto the swing.
What are you, - shouted Fear. - It's very dangerous, you can fall and break.
What is it like to fall and break? the boy asked. He had never had to crash before.
This is, well, like astronauts sometimes, - answered Fear. - They fly, and then they fall and break. Or they explode.
What nonsense, - the boy answered. - The astronauts all ride on carousels, and I'm on a swing.
And he began to sway, and scrolled as many as two “suns” in a row. Fear first closed his eyes, and then disappeared altogether. And the boy got off the swing and went home. That's just about the astronauts, he no longer asked his mother. He quite enjoyed swinging.
4. Fairy tale about teddy bear
Once upon a time there was a teddy bear. And he went somehow around the world to look for the truth. No one could understand why he, a teddy bear, really, but they didn’t interfere either. And suddenly find.
The bear went into toy stores and asked the dolls and drums if they had seen the truth. But they only blinked their toy eyes and did not answer him. They were all waiting for someone to buy them. They had one goal in life - to be bought by someone. And the frustrated bear walked on.
And since he was a bear, and even a plush, it never occurred to him that he could go anywhere else, except for a toy store. He didn't know there was anything else besides shops. And somehow, when he sadly wandered to Children's world, found it a little boy. The boy grabbed the bear and dragged it along. The bear decided that this was a sign from above, and that they would definitely show him where the truth was. Therefore, he did not even resist. The boy brought it home, washed it and began to drag the bear around with him. Because the bear was painfully beautiful, with button eyes, a bow around his neck. The boy even went to bed with this bear. And the bear at night got out of the boy's bed and went again to look for his truth. Now he asked all the toys that the boy had in the room about her. But they also did not answer him, because they were happy - after all, they had already been bought.
In the end, the bear realized that this whole story was not a sign from above, but just an accident. And then he left the boy. And he did not care that the boy was upset and then cried for three days and could not eat. After all, the bear really needed to find the truth.
He still walks and searches to this day. So if you meet a teddy bear on the street, this is it. You explain to him then where to find the truth, if you know, otherwise he will continue to roam in toy stores and children's shops.
5. The Tale of the Yellow Taxi
The yellow taxi is generally a terrible thing. If at night he meets in the yard, but does not stop at the same time, he will go further. And you go somewhere, even to the store, and you come back - it's right there, quietly turning around the corner and shining its headlights at you. You just wanted to buy cigarettes or put some night guest in the car, send it home, and here it is for you. Standing, standing quietly, not moving, waiting for you to come up. Or maybe disappear altogether. And you’re walking, your hamstrings are already shaking, nervously dropping those very cigarettes from a pack, you think, either you just missed something wonderful, or something very terrible. But you get home, and even go to bed.
But if it does not disappear, then the worst begins. Wherever you go, it always appears in front of you. And shines. And you seem to have already turned left and right, and even went to the playground, it seems that taxis don’t drive around playgrounds. And it's still worth it. And there is nothing left but to approach this very taxi. And it already opens the door, waiting. And, of course, there is no one behind the wheel. You are standing near him, thinking, maybe run away or slam the door there or do something else. But you don't, you sit in the back seat. And you stop even thinking about what will happen to you next. You just look out the window. The taxi is leaving. Together with you.
6. The tale of the rabbit that no one bought
In a small pet shop, which miraculously survived in the building of an old department store, there lived a rabbit. At first, the rabbit was also small. So, fluffy, cheerful and all the rest. And he was comforting. Little rabbits are simply destined to evoke tenderness. This is what he did for the first half of his life.
And people came, they were touched, of course, but they were in no hurry to buy a rabbit. Because the animal is unknown, by and large, not a cat, not a dog, and how to behave with him is not clear. Even more unclear is how the rabbit will behave with you. Therefore, people affectionately poked their fingers at the rabbit and bought another pack of "Pedigrey Pal" or "Royal Canina" for their understandable pets.
The rabbit was very flattered by people's attention, but he could not understand why no one was buying him, so fluffy and wonderful. After all, they all like him, the rabbit felt it. But to buy - well, no way. And even if your forehead is against the bars of the cage, it will not help.
The rabbit grew up and slowly began to understand that no one would ever buy him. Especially now that he was healthy, fat and clumsy. And it's not as fluffy as it used to be. Just a big fat rabbit. And no empathy. And, of course, from this situation, the rabbit fell into his own, rabbit depression. He began to look with disgust at the carrot, biting the fingers of the owners of the pet store and in various other ways expressed his dissatisfaction with the way things were in this world. And getting old. Rabbits age very quickly, such is their fate.
And everything would have ended very badly, or rather, simply naturally, if Kind fairy. Or evil wizard. Now you don't know for sure who it was. One way or another, this someone looked at the suffering of the rabbit and decided to do him a favor. Or vice versa. Depending on where to look. And the rabbit became a man. An elderly sad man with a large bald head.
The former rabbit lived in the world for some time and realized that human life is not as beautiful as it seemed to him from the cage, but not so terrible that he should not continue to live it. And then he began to gradually equip his life. Among other attributes of life, he had a pet animal. So the former rabbit, who slowly began to forget who he once was, went to the pet store. And the first thing he saw there, of course, was a cage with a small fluffy rabbit. The man who had once been a rabbit stood at the cage for a long time and wrinkled his forehead, either remembering something, or just thinking. Then he went to the counter and bought himself a dozen gupias. And an aquarium to boot.
7. The Tale of the Fish
There lived a man. And he lived, he had one, but a very significant oddity, when he was very nervous, he became completely transparent. So people stopped noticing him. At all. And that, of course, made him even more nervous. And so, until he drinks three cups of tea with lemon - in normal condition will not come back. So transparent and walks.
However, over time, he got used to such a strangeness of his body. And he was very rarely nervous, only in very extreme cases. And so everyone considered him a very cold-blooded and reasonable person.
And then it happened to him on one not quite perfect day that usually happens to all or almost all people on some beautiful or not very beautiful days. beautiful days. He, therefore, fell in love. A beautiful sweet girl with a college education and long brown hair. And when he saw her for the first time and realized that he had fallen in love, he immediately got nervous and became transparent. And the girl, of course, did not notice him.
Then the man went home, put himself in order for three days with the help of tea and valerian, and nevertheless decided to go to the girl's house and confess to her his ardent feeling. He came, rang the doorbell, the girl, unfortunately, was at home, and the door was opened for him. And he, as soon as he saw these eyes, with sparks higher education, so immediately again he was all embarrassed and left.
The man was saddened, you know, in earnest, sitting near her entrance on a bench and smoking nervously. And then he accidentally meets a good fairy. Honestly, quite by accident, she just went to her friend's "Domino Principle" to watch, because her TV broke down.
Why, - he says, - are you sad, killer whale?
And the man was surprised, this fairy was the first who saw him in such and such a state. Well, he laid out the whole story for her, as if in spirit.
Yes, the fairy tells him. - You've got a problem, bitch. I don't even know how to help you. It would be more time, and so I have the “Domino Principle” in ten minutes, and I still have three entrances to go. Okay, I'll help you the best I can. Now, when you are nervous, you will have fish inside you, and you will be transparent like before. But fish are still better than nothing, right?
True, - the man agreed gloomily, not to argue with the fairy.
Here the fairy makes a couple of passes in the air with her hands, whispers some words, obviously of magical origin, and leaves quickly, quickly, so as not to be late for the transmission.
And the man gathers his strength and goes back to the girl. It's true, fish are better than nothing. He rings the doorbell to her, she opens it again, thinking about what stupid jokes, and suddenly she sees an aquarium in front of her. And in it are fish, beautiful, exotic, obviously from coral reefs. The girl was delighted, immediately called a neighbor to help her to drag the aquarium into the apartment. And then admired him in the evenings, coming home from work. And the aquarium, that is, the same person, in turn admired her, because he simply had nothing left to do.
And he watched her life like that for a long time. And the longer he watched, the more he realized that in vain he, perhaps, fell in love with this girl. Because, although she had a higher education, and brown hair, she was boring. She lived a boring life, loved boringly, well, of course, she also fell in love, it’s not all the same for her to look at the aquarium, she suffered, falling in love, it’s also boring. And when a person understood all this in one, really beautiful day, he became himself, that is, opaque and calm like a tank. And just about to leave, the girl returned from work. Stands looking at him.
And you, he asks, who are you?
And I, - he answers her, - no one. Nobody else.
And leaves. And the girl, of course, calls the police and reports the loss of an aquarium with exotic fish.
8. The Tale of the Black Cat
Once upon a time, in some beautiful southern area, in a large house on one of the many picturesque hills, there lived a magician. Or maybe an artist. The inhabitants of the beautiful southern countryside could not decide who he was. About half of them considered this imposing man of constantly middle years a bad artist, the second half believed that he was a skilled magician. The fact is that this man was very fond of drawing.
At first he painted portraits, but people noticed that as soon as he painted someone, something would certainly happen to that someone. One of the two. Either a person dies quickly and ridiculously, or, on the contrary, marries (or marries) and lives happily ever after. At first, no one noticed the connection, but after four weddings and one funeral, people became alert and began to avoid the artist, just in case. He sighed briefly and switched to landscapes. Since then, in that area, either rockfalls with volcanic eruptions, or dry trees bloom huge blue flowers and sometimes even try to bear fruit. Moreover, such outlandish fruits that no one in the whole world has ever seen them, and even in encyclopedias with pictures there are none.
However, our fairy tale is not about this wizard-artist, but about a cat. The cat, as you might guess, lived in the wizard's house. He lived a very long time, however, he was not going to grow old and decrepit, he was young at heart, black as the night on the eve of All Saints' Day, and every spring he became the cause of the appearance of many of the same black kittens. In all other seasons, the cat traveled through the many rooms of the house, looked at the fire in the fireplace and came to the kitchen three times a day to get his portion of sour cream and fish. The black cat also used to think for a long time about life, about his life in particular. He was, of course, pleased with everything that was happening around and never complained of being bored, cats are never bored, everyone knows that. However, sometimes it seemed to the cat that he had some kind of vocation or, perhaps, a goal that still remains on the list of unfulfilled and unfulfilled. And the black cat tried to consider this goal either in the fire of the fireplace, or in the eyes of its owner, when in the evenings he sat in an easy chair and read some ancient and very dusty tomes. And one day it seemed to the cat that he should go and see what was behind that dark forest, which starts right behind the house. The cat did not begin to think about whether he correctly interpreted the pattern on the burning log, he simply left the house and went into the dark forest. He did not warn the owner, the owner knew perfectly well that his cat was a completely independent creature, perhaps even more independent than he himself. And so I never worried.
The black cat did not really like dark forests, and light ones, in general, too. There were too many rustles in the forests, strange animals and trees. The cat believed that one, beloved tree, which you can climb if such a desire arises, is quite enough. And if there are a lot of trees, then the problem of choice will inevitably arise. The black cat did not like problems, but he did not believe in the possibility of choice. Therefore, the forest unnerved him a little. However, he tried not to pay attention to anything and just walked forward, sometimes feasting on small forest animals. The black cat always made sure to be in shape, so he could catch any thread of small creatures that love to run through dark forests so much without any problems. The main thing is not to consider prey before eating. Otherwise, you can be very scared. Dark forests, they are not just dark.
Black cat walking through the forest whole month and, in spite of all his calmness, he slowly began to rage from endless pines, squirrels, goblin and werewolves. Werewolves, among other things, had a bad habit of howling at those moments when the black cat looked at the moon and tried to compose poetry. In addition, it seemed to the cat that such a forest did not correspond much to the southern area in which it is located. Which means it's all nonsense. On the other hand, maybe such a wrong forest is just what is needed to fulfill the goal of a lifetime.
But then the forest finally ended, and the black cat came out into the Very Ominous Glade. Some Very Sinister People were sitting in the clearing and looking at the cat.
Hello, said the cat. He was very well brought up.
Hello, said the Evil Man. You came here for your death, didn't you?
Why else is this? - the cat was surprised.
Well, the last journey, it's a very common symbol, - said the Sinister Man. - And at the end last trip there is always death. I saw Jarmusch's film "Dead Man" yesterday, I know. You are striving for non-existence.
What nonsense, - answered the cat. - Do you really think that I, a cat living in a house near fate itself, will not be able to agree with her, huh? And that I will go for death, it is not clear where?
The Sinister People were silent in discouragement.
Why did you come then? one of them finally asked.
So easy, take a walk, - said the cat. “I thought maybe for once, at the end of the journey, they wouldn’t offer me to die. In vain, probably thought.
The cat turned away from the Sinister People, waved its paw in anguish, and the dark forest immediately evaporated. And the cat went to the house, thinking that nothing has changed in this world over the past few thousand years. And that this, perhaps, is good, because at home his favorite bowl of sour cream was waiting for him and the opportunity to live at his own pleasure for several thousand more years.
