Ukrainian legend
It was a long time ago. In one village in Ukraine, girls and women decided to show their skills. We agreed that on Sunday everyone would come to the village square, and each would bring the best thing she had made with her own hands: an embroidered towel, lace, linen, tablecloth, clothes.
On the appointed day, all the girls and women came to the square. They brought a lot of amazing things. The old men and women, whom society instructed to name the most skilled craftswomen, were wide-eyed: there were so many talented women and girls. The wives and daughters of the rich brought silk bedspreads embroidered with gold and silver, thin lace curtains on which amazing birds were knitted.
But the winner was the poor man's wife Marina. She did not bring either an embroidered towel or lace, although she knew how to do all this perfectly. She brought her five-year-old son Petrus, and Petrus brought a lark, which he himself carved from wood. Petrus put the lark to his lips - the bird sang and chirped, as if alive. Everyone stood in the square without moving, everyone was enchanted by the song, and suddenly a real, living lark began to sing in the blue sky, attracted by the singing from the ground.
“He who creates an intelligent and kind person is the most skillful master,” was the decision of the old people.
(Reprinted from V.I. Oliynik’s newspaper “On the Threshold of Eternity”)
The legend about the Ukrainian girl whom God gifted with a song
One day the Lord God decided to endow the children of the world with talents. The French chose elegance and beauty, the Hungarians - a love of housekeeping, the Germans - discipline and order, the Russians - authority, the Poles - the ability to trade, the Italians received the ability to play music... Having endowed everyone, the Lord God rose from the holy throne and suddenly saw in the corner girl. She was barefoot, dressed in an embroidered shirt, a light brown braid tied with a blue ribbon, and a wreath of red viburnum on her head. Who are you? Why are you crying? - asked the Lord.
I am Ukraine, and I am crying because my land is groaning from shed blood and fires. My sons are in a foreign land, in someone else’s work, enemies are mocking widows and orphans, there is no truth and freedom in their home.
Why didn't you come to me earlier? I gave away all my talents. How can I help you?
The girl was about to go, but the Lord God, raising his right hand, stopped her.
I have a priceless gift that will glorify you throughout the world. Is a song.
The Ukrainian girl took the gift and pressed it tightly to her heart. She bowed low to the Almighty and with a clear face and faith took the song to the people.
Where a legend is born…
(Legends of Lviv)
Having emerged in the Middle Ages on seven hills, like many ancient cities, Lviv, unique in its appearance and beauty, was moving towards our future, overgrown with legends. These legends featured church ministers, princes, kings, boyars, warriors, and ordinary people who lived in this beautiful city, and their hard and persistent work made this city better and better. Do we need these legends today? Oh, how needed! It is very important for us to preserve them in order to communicate through them with the past, with the inhabitants of the city of previous eras, so that every day we can independently feel the legendary smell and taste of our native history...
All buildings in Lviv are marked with secrets and shrouded in eerie mysteries. This is especially acute when walking around the city at night. Modern illumination only enhances the unreality effect. In the premises of the SBU on Vetovsky Street (formerly the KGB), in Soviet times “criminal cases” were written against priests, many people were tortured - victims of terror. Walking past this building, especially in the evening, you almost physically feel the waves of fear, despair and pain with which it is saturated. They say that workers who are on duty here at night often hear strange sounds and groans. Probably, it is the souls of the unfortunate victims who cannot find peace for themselves.
One of the favorite legends of Ukrainian historians is the legend of the “Necklace of the Baghdad Merchant”. She talks about the justice of Prince Leo, the son of King Daniel of Galicia, after whom our city is named. After the death of his father, he headed the throne and became famous among the inhabitants for his justice, restraint, and caring nature. Even in the old days, Lviv was one of the main shopping centers. There were merchants from the countries of the West and the East, they brought some goods, and brought others from here. Sellers also came from Arab countries. The legend tells about the merchant Abdurahman from Baghdad. He brought frankincense, myrrh, naena pepper, cinnamon, cloves and other goods to Lvov. I sold everything, but still had a very original necklace with precious stones set in gold. In order not to take it to Baghdad, Abdurakhman decided to leave the necklace with a familiar Lviv merchant. But his great surprise was when, returning a year later, he could not receive his treasure. Kramar denied having the necklace, as did his wife. Absorbed with worries, Abdurakhman complained about the merchant to institutions and courts, but no one could help him because there were no witnesses. Then Abdurakhman decided to turn to Prince Leo himself. When the Syrian got an appointment with the prince and told him his troubles, he thought about how to fairly resolve this dispute. There is not a single piece of evidence that the merchant left the necklace to that particular merchant. After some time, the prince told the Syrian to go and wait for the debtor in the store the next day. The next morning, Abdurakhman sat on the threshold of the store, and although the merchant drove him away, he returned again and again and waited... But then Prince Lev appeared on a Basque Arabian horse. Having reached the store where the Syrian was sitting, the prince turned to Abdurakhman with reproach for why he did not come to him, offering to come in soon. All this happened in the presence of many people who heard the conversation between the prince and the Baghdad merchant. The merchant and his wife also heard her. Frightened, they hastened to give the Syrian his necklace. The next day, Abdurakhman appeared in the palace of Prince Lev and thanked him on his knees for his help. And Lev, in turn, ordered the merchant and his wife to be seized and nailed to the doors of the store, as a warning to everyone who tried to deceive customers. People also said that in the time of Prince Lev it was possible to put a wallet with money in the middle of the street and, returning the next day, find it in the same place untouched.
Particularly tragic is the legend about a poor girl who once came to the headquarters, which is now in Shevchenko Grove, to wash clothes and, leaning towards the water, could not straighten up, because someone seemed to be holding her braid. When she asked who was holding her, she heard the answer: “We are the bells, there are three of us: Pan Zloty, Pan Serebryany and their servant Copper. Who do you choose? Thinking, the girl chose a servant, since she herself was a servant. The copper bell jumped out of the water, inviting the girl to take it to the church. The girl hesitated at first, but, hugging and lifting the bell, making sure that it was light, she carried it to the church. When she approached the bell tower, he escaped from her hands and clung to the others. This bell had an incomparable voice, but it did not ring for long. A few years later the girl fell ill and died. They say that on this day, when she died, it hummed very long, and then, swaying, it began to ring loudly, until, due to great sorrow, it cracked and fell silent forever.
Many Lviv legends tell about fierce love. I especially like the legend of the early twentieth century. Sometime in the year 1910, a young successful Lvov lawyer fell in love with a young thirty-year-old woman, the owner of the Pivonia villa on Pohulyanka, and they lived together for about two years. A well-known psychiatrist and friend of the lawyer noted some strange changes in the behavior of his friend. He, in turn, complained to the doctor about an almost pathological sexual dependence on his beloved. The psychiatrist was imbued with his friend’s misfortune and decided to save him. He reviewed all the old case histories, and among them he found the story of our heroine. She consulted a psychopathologist back in 1875, and she was already 45 then. That is, at that time she was no less than 80!!! The psychiatrist had a desire to meet Sarah Braga himself (that was the woman’s name). The lawyer was no longer there at that time. It was rumored that he died of an unknown disease. In addition, as it turned out, Sarah had six more husbands before him, whose fate is also unknown.
Realizing the incredible danger that awaited him, the doctor nevertheless decided to settle in Sarah Braga’s house. It’s hard to imagine how much effort it took him not to give in to the seductive demonic woman. Feeling her powerlessness, Sarah began to age, wrinkles appeared on her face, gray hair appeared on her head... Neither requests nor hysterics helped - the doctor was unforgiving. Quite by accident, he discovered Sarah's secret. One evening, sitting in the living room near the fireplace, the psychiatrist was reading the Bible. It told about Sarah from Media, who had seven husbands, who were later sacrificed to the demon Asmodeus. When the doctor read aloud a passage from the Old Testament, Sarah screamed and ran out of the room. And when the psychiatrist rushed after her, he saw her dead body on the stairs. What a creepy, but at the same time attractive story, isn’t it?!
In ancient times, about four hundred years ago, a ghost appeared in the Lviv Town Hall. It came at midnight in the form of a black coffin, which flew through the halls and stairs, and the echo carried its terrible groan. No one could explain the appearance of the black coffin, but one of the shopkeepers, and that’s what the judges who handled criminal cases were called in ancient Lviv, unraveled the mystery. Once, a panel of shopkeepers did not carefully consider a court case, and an innocent man was sentenced to death. Over time, they found the real culprit of the crime, but it was too late - an innocent person suffered. After this, a black coffin began to appear in the town hall, as a stern warning for untruthful judges.
The next legend was recorded by Lviv writer Stefan Grabinsky, whose works were first presented to his contemporaries by Yuri Vinnichuk. In 1861, the Lviv-Przemysl railway route was put into operation. He was the first in Galicia and in Ukraine as a whole. And a few years after this event, mysterious and wonderful incidents began to appear on the Lviv roads. The frightened “railway” authorities wanted to hide them in every possible way, but tabloid magazines had already begun to scribble about these miracles. A mysterious train appeared on the Lviv tracks. With unheard-of speed, it suddenly appeared in the most unexpected places, and with an incredible roar, it suddenly disappeared in an invisible direction, however, without creating a single collision or accident. It was impossible to catch up with or delay this train. Angry railroad workers were in despair because passengers, frightened by the rumors, were using the trains less and less. One evening a mystical locomotive appeared in a Lviv courtyard. People were waiting for the train from Vienna, which arrived from the western direction exactly second to second. The cheerful faces of the passengers were already visible from the windows when, from a completely opposite, eastern direction, a gigantic gray mass of a ghost train, like a crazy whirlwind, flew along those same tracks to meet the Viennese one. Horror gripped everyone - a collision could not be avoided! But the “mad” train, instead of smashing its comrade into pieces with an instant collision, with lightning fury flies like a haze through all the cars of the Vienna-Lviv train... and disappears into the darkness. An intact passenger train stands calmly on the platform, and only the very frightened, frozen faces of the passengers, turned to the west, indicate that something terrible and mystical happened on the Lviv platform. The stray train, not very often, terrorized railway workers and passengers on various trains for several months, and then disappeared as completely as it appeared. Like this!
If you collect all the legends of Lvov, you will get an incredibly exciting collection - about ghosts and lovers, about castles and cellars, about prisons and torture chambers, about heroes and dragons... By the way, did you know that on the territory of St. George's Cathedral there is a cave in which when... -did there live a dragon? And do you know what this ancient “Gorynych” ate? Magical young ladies! This is such a healthy diet!!!
It’s hard to imagine Lviv without the special aroma of coffee, which seems to permeate every street. Hidden among them are quite a few coffee shops or “kavaren”, as they once said. Each of them has its own legend, its own mystery and, of course, its own special recipe for making coffee... Fortunately, far in the past are the times when coffee was banned, believing that its intoxicating aroma distracted monks from prayer, and encouraged respectable citizens to do dangerous and dangerous things. absolutely required political discussions. Nowadays coffee is the key to a great mood. That is why Lemberg is associated with all the legends, myths, secrets and riddles that are created over a cup of strong black coffee.
You can talk a lot about Lviv: about its historical value, about the unique geographical location: when it rains, on one side of a Lviv house, part of the water flows into the Black Sea basin, and on the other into the Baltic Sea... But let’s dwell on one more highlight of Lvov. On the one thing without which Lviv would not be Lviv – beer. There is no such tasty and lively beer anywhere in the world. However, there were some legends here too. But of course!
The first charter of the workshop of Lviv brewers, dating back to 1425, has survived to this day. In the second half of the 17th century, Count Stanislav Potocki granted the Jesuit monks who settled on his land the right to build a brewery on the outskirts of Lviv, on Kleparivska Street, “to brew their own and good beer.” This is how the first industrial brewery in Ukraine appeared in 1715. To pass on this entire rich history to descendants, on October 14, 2005, the first Beer Museum in Ukraine was opened at the enterprise.
The museum’s special pride is the brewer’s qualification certificate, which confirms that the drink was brewed only by masters. The Lvov magistrate saw it to the gentleman who mastered this specialty in 1797. But another, no less diligent person was rewarded for his attention to the quality of beer... with love!
This refers to the engineer Robert Doms, who owned a brewery in the 19th century. Every morning this gentleman tasted freshly brewed beer right in bed. And the young, friendly servant Zosya brought him an amber drink in a huge, almost ten-liter “galba” with a tap. Of course, this beer was very good, because, as a result, Robert fell in love and married the girl. Having sold his brewery, he left with his beloved for Switzerland. And as a souvenir he left us that legendary mug, which to this day is called “Zoska” and is considered the museum’s mascot.
After so many interesting stories about beer, it’s time to try the drink itself. For this purpose, the museum has a special tasting room. If you want to sit longer with friends over wonderful Lviv beer, delicious treats and club concerts, go up one floor to the Robert Doms House restaurant. Who knows, maybe you will meet your love there too?...
Lviv pharmacies are also filled with an extraordinary legendary taste. The fact is that before the advent of Soviet power, each pharmacy had its own name, like ships, restaurants, confectionery shops: “Under the Black Eagle”, “Under the Golden Star”, “Under Themis”, “Under the Hungarian Crown”, “Under the Holy Spirit” ... In those days, the northwestern foothills of the Carpathians were overflowing with oil. Since the internal combustion engine, diesel engine or jet aircraft were the work of the future, the need for oil was not very clear. Once, an entrepreneur from Borislav, who wanted to get at least some benefit from this viscous liquid, delivered a whole barrel of oil to Lviv, to the pharmacy “Under the Golden Star” (today Copernicus, 1). He, planning to receive a considerable reward for it, tried to convince pharmacists to somehow distill the oil into alcohol. Johann Zeg and Ignazio Lukasiewicz, the best experts in their field, forgetting about the production of medicines, tinkered with this task for months. But they were never able to get alcohol. Instead, by heating oil from 150°C to 315°C, specialists learned to produce gas and were the first in the world to use gas lamps. Well, later, a cafe called “Gas Lamp” was founded in that place.
The legends of Lvov are as magical as its narrow streets, squares, pavements... Once upon a time, a long time ago, a poor musician came to Lviv. Residents of the city, holding their breath, listened for hours to his clear, wonderful voice in the central square, and young ladies fell head over heels in love with the sad singer. The guy himself, even in his songs, was irreparably sad. All this because the poor man fell in love with a proud beauty who passed by every day, not noticing either his love for her or the young man’s surprisingly special talent. One day on a cold autumn evening the musician trudged behind the lady all the way to the house in which she lived. The whole night he played melodies about love under her dark windows, only in the morning both the voice and the strings of the lover fell silent. Waking up, people saw the dead body of a young man, whose heart could not stand it because of the great inseparable love. Since that time, old people say, in deep silence and now you can hear how piercingly the Lviv rain hums the forgotten melody of love, and the ancient city cries with it...
The thousand-year history of Lvov has seen bloody wars, floods, invasions of fierce enemies, and terrible fires along the way... But every time this “city of lions that sleep” was reborn anew, showing the whole world its life-giving strength, extraordinary will to live...
Earthly giant Kara-Dag
(Legends of Crimea, Koktebel)
The Country of Cognacs is rich in legends. Even the ancient Taurians passed on from generation to generation the story of the most powerful eruption of the Kara-Dag, which occurred in prehistoric times.
It was a long time ago, when there were no people on Earth yet, and only animals inhabited it. At that time, the gods often descended to earth to wander through endless forests or sent their light-winged angelic servants for fruits and nectar. The earth was warm and blooming and there was a place for everyone on it. Huge multi-headed animals ate grass that grew generously under the gentle sun. The endless forests rustled with the deciduous crowns of centuries-old trees, blown by a light wind.
But one day the gods of the underworld conspired and sent an icy whirlwind onto the sun. And the sun went out like a flame drenched in rain. Cold and darkness began to spread throughout the land. Green meadows and spreading trees were covered with ice and snow. And many animals died, and the rest, in order to survive, began to devour each other.
The Earth suffered for a long time. But one day the earthly giant, Kara-Dag, rose up, and streams of hot lava erupted from it. For 12 days and 12 nights they flowed down its slopes and warmed the frozen earth.
And the gods of heaven sent angels with golden amphorae to earth. And the angels scooped up the Karadag lava and took it to the Sun. And the extinguished sun warmed up and flared up again. And the ice melted, and the meadows bloomed, and endless forests again stretched to the sky across the entire earth.
The majestic Kara-Dag calmed down, the lava froze. And grapes grew on its slopes - in memory of the unity of the mountain and the sun. Many centuries later, people appeared on these lands. And for years they served the vines, which had absorbed the sun and fire of the earth. And they began to make a drink from grape berries, similar to lava that warms the earth. The name of this drink is cognac. In gratitude for its salvation, the sun sanctified it and now flickers in every drop of it, warming people.
And only angels still descend with golden amphorae onto the Koktebel land and take their share of the sparkling nectar to the sky, which for many millennia does not allow the huge Koktebel sun to go out.
Kara-Dag - Black Mountain
In the evenings, the enchanting trills of girls’ voices filled the Otuz Valley. Then they sang their wondrous songs, returning from the grape fields. Heading home, the girls always looked warily at Kara-Dag - the Black Mountain, hanging over the valley and obscuring the blue sky. In its depths lived a terrible monster - a one-eyed cannibal giant.
During the day he slept, but even his peaceful snoring was like thunder, and when he turned around, the mountain shook to its foundations. Late in the evening, when it was completely dark, the giant would wake up and crawl out of the lair. His eyes flashing, he began to roar deafeningly, so that the echo rolled across the Crimean Mountains.
The villagers hid wherever they could, and the men took a bull or a couple of sheep to the foot of the Black Mountain. Having tied the cattle in a visible place, they left, and the giant calmed down until the next evening. But in the month of weddings, the cannibal demanded an even greater sacrifice. Even dozens of sheep and bulls were not enough. He roared all night, and the windows shook from his roar, and the fires in the hearths went out. Then he grabbed huge stones and threw them into the valley. Rolling down the slopes of the mountain, they turned into an avalanche that swept away everything in its path.
And then the frightened people chose one of the brides and gave her as a sacrifice to the giant...
For many years he ruled over the Otuz Valley, but people endured. None of them knew how to get rid of him. But one day a strong and brave young man decided to challenge the monster. The villagers laughed at him, because no one believed that the giant could be destroyed.
After waiting for the month of weddings, the young man fulfilled his vow. When the sun set, he headed towards the mountain giant. Dusk fell, a large moon appeared in the dark blue sky and covered the surface of the sea with silvery scales. In the village, human voices, the bleating of sheep, the mooing of cows fell silent, and evening lights flashed here and there. Admiring the beauty of the village, the young man remembered his beloved Elbis and sang an old song:
Love is a bird of spring,
The time has come for her to fly.
I asked the old Greek woman,
How can I catch the love bird?
The Greek woman replied:
“With your eyes you catch a bird,
She will fall on her lips
And your heart will penetrate..."
And then a giant appeared from the gorge. Fascinated by the singing, he asked the young man to bring him a love bird and he agreed. The next evening, the young man again went to Kara-Dag, taking his betrothed with him.
Seeing the huge giant, Elbis stopped in horror. But, looking at her beloved, she overcame her fear and bravely stepped towards danger. She turned to the cannibal and asked him to open his eyes wider to see the bird. The beauty of Elbis was so dazzling that the giant opened his only eye wide in amazement. And the girl pulled her bow and shot a poisonous stone arrow at the giant’s glowing eye. The giant howled and rushed towards the daredevils to crush them, but, seeing nothing, he tripped over a stone and fell into his deep hole.
Because of the giant’s anger, the mountain moved as if alive: huge stones, and even entire cliffs, broke off from it and fell noisily into the sea. His angry breath melted the earth and flowed down the slopes in fiery streams through the cracks. The whole night there was a continuous roar over the Kara-Dag, the top of the mountain was spewing out fire, smoke and ash. An ominous black cloud covered the sky, lightning flashed and thunder roared.
And at dawn the rain fell and everything calmed down. When people came out of their shelters, they froze in surprise. Black Mountain no longer existed. In its place, new cliffs and bizarrely shaped rocks, reminiscent of wild animals, rose to the sky. The sea was no longer angry and gently washed the steep walls of the rocks, flooded numerous coves and caves and muttered something joyfully.
There is an old Ukrainian legend. The mother had an only son. He married a girl of unprecedented beauty and brought her to his home. The daughter-in-law did not like the mother-in-law and told her husband: “Let the mother not come into the room, put her in the hallway.” The son settled his mother in the entryway. The mother was afraid to show herself to her evil daughter-in-law. As soon as the daughter-in-law walked through the hallway, the mother hid under the bed.
But this was not enough for my daughter-in-law. She says to her husband: “So that the spirit of the mother does not smell in the house! They moved her to the barn." The son moved his mother into the barn. Only at night did she leave her hiding place.
One night a young beauty was resting under a blooming apple tree and saw her mother come out of the barn. The wife became furious and ran to her husband: “If you want me to live with you, kill my mother, take the heart out of her chest and bring it to me.”
The son did not flinch; he was bewitched by the unprecedented beauty of his wife. He says to his mother: “Come on, mom, let’s swim in the river.” They go to the river along a rocky bank. The mother tripped over a stone. The son got angry: “Why are you, mom, stumbling? Why don't you look at your feet? So we will go until evening.”
They came, undressed, and swam. The son killed his mother, took the heart out of her chest, put it on a maple leaf, and carried it. The little mother's heart trembles. The son tripped over a stone, fell, hit his knee, his hot heart fell on a sharp cliff, bled, shook and whispered: “My dear son, aren’t you hurt?”
The son began to sob, grabbed his mother’s hot heart, returned to the river, put the heart into his torn chest, and poured it with hot tears. He realized that no one had ever loved him as ardently, devotedly and unselfishly as his own mother.
And so enormous and inexhaustible was the mother’s love, so deep and omnipotent was the desire of the mother’s heart to see her son joyful and carefree, that the heart came to life, the torn chest closed, the mother stood up and pressed her son’s curly head to her chest. After this, the son could not return to his beautiful wife; she became hateful to him. The mother did not return home either. The two of them walked through the steppes and valleys, came out into a wide open space and became two high mounds.
This is the legend created by folk wisdom.
Filial gratitude... How many bitter thoughts and sorrowful minutes does a mother's and father's heart experience, feeling that a son or daughter is indifferent, heartless, that they have forgotten about all the good that their mother and father have done for them. And there is no higher joy for a person who feels the approaching twilight of his life than the joy whose source is the love and gratitude of children...
Every day begins for me with childish joy. I see in children's eyes admiration for the beauty of an opening rose, amazement at something unusual in the world around them - an amazingly shaped cloud in the blue sky, a colorful butterfly among the leaves - pleasure from a gift received from parental hands, pleasure from a fun game.
We do everything to make the children happy. And at the sight of joyful, serene children's faces, my heart is filled with satisfaction. But for some reason anxiety creeps in along with it.
I am worried about the question: does our torch of love for children light reciprocal sparks of gratitude in their hearts? Does the child feel that the blessings of his life are the result of the great work of his parents, the care of many “non-relatives”, but people who love him? After all, without them, without their work and worries, he simply could not live in the world. But how often it doesn’t even occur to him!
There is a great danger here - raising a selfish person who believes that everyone should work for him, that the main thing is his personal needs, and everything else is secondary. To prevent such a danger, it is important to awaken and develop in the child a sense of appreciation and gratitude.
How to achieve this? I see only one way: to teach children to do good for us - parents, educators, and people of older generations in general. A child must pay for good with good!
Children's happiness is selfish in nature: he perceives the benefits created for the child by his elders as something self-evident. It seems to him that his mother and father exist to bring him joy and pleasure.
We are often faced with a fact that seems paradoxical at first glance: in a good working family, where parents dote on their children and give them all the strength of their hearts, children sometimes grow up indifferent and heartless. But there is no paradox here: this happens because the child knows only the joys of consumption. But they cannot develop a moral sense on their own. It arises only when we introduce children to the highest human joy - the joy of doing good for other people. Only this truly unselfish and therefore truly human experience is the force that ennobles the young heart.
The most important thing, in my opinion, is to teach a child to see and feel, understand and experience with all his heart that he lives among people and that the deepest human joy is to live for people.
I would call education at a young age - from 6 to 10 years old - a school of warmth. Our teachers strive to instill in every child of this age a heartfelt sensitivity to the environment, to everything that a person creates, that serves him, and, of course, above all, to the person himself. It starts with children's concern for the creation of beauty. Everything beautiful carries within itself a miraculous educational power. And it is important that the creation of beauty and the creation of good merge in children into a single act.
The children crossed the threshold of the school and became first graders. From the first days of school life, we attach exceptional importance to communication with parents. Every week we, primary school teachers and the school principal, talk with mothers and fathers, advise and listen to people who are wise with life experience. Together we think about what a child should do so that his heart becomes sensitive to his surroundings, so that he learns to live for people. We agree with the parents of first-graders about the autumn Rose Festival (pupils in grades 2-4 already know about it). This is both a family and at the same time a school holiday. But it has a feature that is typical for many of our children's parties: they are not held at school.
There is no excessive pomp in them, behind which, unfortunately, sometimes there are few sincere children's feelings and a lot of artificiality. Our children's parties are held mainly in the family, but we prepare children for them at school.
The Autumn Rose Festival is the day when every first grader plants a rose bush in their garden at home. We give a child a rose seedling - take it, plant it, take care of it, create beauty, bring joy to mother, father, grandfather, grandmother.
This work is generally not difficult: in two years you need to bring several buckets of water, move several shovels of earth from one place to another. But the main thing is memory, constant care, perseverance in achieving a good, beautiful goal. And all this needs to be taught.
A first grader plants a rose bush. I often have to remind him: plant the fields, cover him from the cold, loosen the soil... Monotonous work is not very pleasing, and the result - a fragrant flower - is unimaginably distant in a child's imagination. The child does not yet know how to wait patiently, persistently preparing and paving the way to solving the task at hand.
But then the first green leaves appeared on the bush - lights of joy lit up in the children's eyes. A long period of new monotonous work begins. Again and again we have to water and loosen the soil and collect fertilizers.
Finally, unexpectedly for the child, the first bud appears. Then the second, third... They open, scarlet, pink, blue, blue petals shine in the sun. The lights of joy in children's eyes flare up even more. And it is incomparable to anything. This is not the joy that comes from a parental gift, fun leisure time, or anticipation of the pleasures of an upcoming excursion.
This is the joy of doing good for the most dear people - mother, father, grandmother, grandfather. And such goodness is especially touching because it is also beauty. The child can't wait for the bud to bloom. And if it happens that someone picks a flower, there is no greater grief for a child’s heart. But he is not a real person who has never experienced such grief...
For me, the greatest happiness is to see children's eyes shining in those moments when the baby cuts a rose and carries it to his mother. The child's gaze is illuminated by the pure radiance of humanity.
Children acquire a new vision of the world. In the flowering branches of an apple tree, in ripening bunches of grapes, in the thoughtful flowers of chrysanthemums, they see the embodiment of human labor, care, a sense of goodness and beauty. They will not raise their hand to break a branch or pick a flower, simply in vain.
Two years of school life have passed. The bush planted in the first school year blossomed luxuriantly. Several more bushes have been planted. A good tradition has been born in the family - on the birthday of mother, father, grandmother, grandfather, children present them with flowers. It’s good if your birthday falls in spring, summer or early autumn. And if it’s for the winter, then you have to grow a flower in a school greenhouse or make a greenhouse at home near the stove. How much worry does a child have to go through until the bud appears, until it opens its petals? . .
Teachers strive to ensure that children are captivated by caring for what is alive and beautiful, about what is blooming and blossoming. Let the child think about the little apple tree, which is cold under the gusts of the autumn wind. Let him worry: isn’t a gray hare creeping up to the apple tree on a cold winter night and gnawing on the bark? At dawn he will go into the garden, touch the thin trunk of the apple tree, and wrap it in straw. He will be worried that the spring frost damaged the flowers of the peach trees, that the storm broke a branch on the apple tree.
In such care there is a living source of human sensitivity, responsiveness, and compassion. We strive to ensure that each child has their own beauty corner at home. In summer, spring, autumn - in the garden, in winter - in the room. Parents first work together with their children, helping them create their own corner, and then gradually, as it were, step aside, only the children work.
Ivan Ivanovich, a worker at a repair and technical station, has three children, students in grades 5-8. Their mother and father advised them to create a beauty corner in the orchard. A small plot was planted with wild grapes. Its thickets formed a shady gazebo. Asters and chrysanthemums bloom nearby. There is a lilac alley around the gazebo. All summer long everything is in bloom in this corner of beauty. The children are happy to welcome their parents returning from work in their corner. This is a wonderful vacation spot for them. And the children are proud: they created the conditions for relaxation.
One or two years after the start of education, the student starts a gratitude garden. Plants apple trees for mother, father, grandparents; grape bushes - to mother, father, grandmother, grandfather. Seedlings for the garden are received at the school - several thousand seedlings are grown here every year. It is not easy to encourage children to care for fruit trees. The success of the business depends on the perseverance and life wisdom of parents, on the unity of efforts of the school and family. Two or three years pass, and the trees, planted, as it seems to the child, a very, very long time ago, begin to bear the first fruits. He knew that there would be fruits someday, but their appearance is always a joyful surprise. Now neither teachers nor parents have to remind the student that he needs to water and feed the plants - he himself does not forget about it. He looks forward to the day when the apples and grapes ripen, when he can pick the fruits and carry them to his happily excited mother.
For us, teachers, it is a great joy to see how children develop the awareness that a mother and father who are tired at work need rest. That silence, peace, cleanliness and beauty in the house are what gives the necessary rest and the experience of good joy. Children, not only with their minds, but also with their hearts, feel that their bad behavior and poor academic performance cause pain to their mother and father, and this is tantamount to an evil, heartless act.
“I need to do well in all subjects,” said Kolya B., a 4th grade student, “my mother has a heart condition.” The child wants his mother to be calm. He knows that with his work he will help protect his mother’s heart.
The desire of children to study well (especially young children) often has its source in the desire to bring joy to their mother and father. And it awakens only when the child has already experienced the joy of doing good for his parents in something else.
How important it is for children to learn to feel the state of mind of a friend, recognize someone else’s grief, and experience it as their own. This heartfelt sensitivity depends on the same thing: on the good done by the child for a friend. We teach young children to do good to their comrades. First-grader Seryozha did not come to school today. The teacher knows that Seryozha’s grandmother is seriously ill, and tells the students about it. Sympathy and pity awaken in children's hearts. His comrades go to his house, help him complete the task, and go to the pharmacy to buy medicine for his grandmother. Every child receives dozens of such lessons in sensitivity, responsiveness, and compassion.
Childhood should become a natural school of warmth for a child. This is one of the most difficult and subtle educational tasks of family and school. We are called upon to ennoble the heart of the new citizen, to spiritualize his impulses and desires with the highest human beauty - sensitivity, responsiveness, compassion. From the first steps of a little person’s conscious life, one must remember that he will become not only a producer of material and spiritual values, but also the son of elderly parents, a husband, and a father.
UKRAINIAN FAIRY TALES AND LEGENDS
UKRAINIAN FAIRY TALES AND LEGENDS
Folk tales have firmly entered the treasury of world culture, created by the hands of working people over many centuries and millennia, as one of the most significant monuments of verbal art.
Scientists and specialists have been arguing for a long time about what the essence of fairy-tale creativity is, what is the most significant feature that characterizes this genre of oral poetry.
It seems to us that Maxim Gorky understood the essence of the folk tale more deeply than anyone else, considering it the prototype of the hypothesis...
Already at the dawn of their history, people, trying to penetrate the secrets of nature and foreseeing great discoveries in the field of exact sciences, began to speak figuratively about flying carpets, about running boots, about flying ships, about an invisible hat, about a wonderful needle, about a tablecloth. - self-assembly, about rejuvenating apples, about dead and living water.
A cherished dream of a wonderful future, when a person will conquer the vast expanses of land, seas and “sky” - space, when Truth will triumph over Falsehood, when everyone will be well-fed, clothed, shod, when there will be no “Pan” and “Ivan”, but everyone will be equal... This age-old dream received artistic embodiment in myths, fairy tales and legends.
“In fairy tales,” writes Maxim Gorky, “first of all, what is instructive is “fiction” - the amazing ability of our thought to look far ahead of the fact. The imagination of storytellers knew about “flying carpets” dozens of centuries before the invention of airplanes, and foreshadowed the wonderful speeds of movement in space long before the steam locomotive, before gas and electric motors.” According to Gorky, it was fantasy, “invention” that cultivated in a person one of the most amazing qualities - intuition or “conjecture”, which helps a scientist make a brilliant discovery. In art, fantasy, intuition, and invention play a decisive role. “It is not enough to observe, study, know, you also need to “invent” and create. Creativity is the combination of many little things into one more or less large whole of perfect form. This is how all the greatest “types” were created - Robinson Crusoe, Don Quixote, Hamlet, Werther, Karamazovs, Oblomovs, Bezukhovs, etc.” (M. Gorky, vol. 25, Collected Works, M., 1953, pp. 86–89).
These heartfelt Gorky words can be supplemented with beautiful sayings of Pushkin, Gogol, Taras Shevchenko, Ivan Franko, Goethe, the Brothers Grimm and many others.
Our Soviet experts also consider fiction to be the main feature of fairy-tale creativity. “Fiction in a fairy tale is characteristic of all types of fairy tales of all peoples” (E. V. Pomerantseva. Russian folk tale, published by the Academy of Sciences of the USSR, M., 1963, p. 5).
So, in a folk tale we value, first of all, poetic fiction, which enriches the creative imagination of a child and an adult. But fiction does not prevent a fairy tale from having a connection with reality. Even N. Dobrolyubov wittily remarked: “If in all these legends there is something worthy of our attention, then it is precisely those parts of them where living reality is reflected” (Collected works, vol. 1, M., 1954, p. 205). And Vladimir Ilyich Lenin said: “Every fairy tale has elements of reality: if you presented children with a fairy tale where a rooster and a cat do not speak human language, they would not be interested in it” (V.I. Lenin. Works, vol. 27 , page 79).
A folk tale is an ever-living collective creativity, although its origin is lost in hoary antiquity. This is its peculiarity, which attracts us, and its irresistible power, captivating listeners and readers of all generations.
Since we are writing a preface to the anthology, a collection of Ukrainian folk tales, we would like to briefly talk about the current state of fairy-tale creativity in Ukraine.
We are not going to enter into an argument with those folklorists who emphasize the fact of the gradual fading of the fairy tale tradition in the central and eastern regions of Soviet Ukraine, a fact explained by the victorious march of culture and civilization to the broad masses. But in the western regions of the republic, especially in the Carpathian region, we observe the full-blooded life of folk tales in our days.
In Uzhgorod alone, five collections of new materials have been published over the past five years. During this twenty years, we were lucky enough to identify fifty folk storytellers in Transcarpathia. In only one village of Gorinchev, Khust district, it was possible to record over three hundred stories from ten storytellers, among them were first-class masters Andriy Kalin, Mikhailo Galich, Yura Tegza-Poradyuk, Yura Revt, Vasil Kholod and others.
In other regions of Transcarpathia, more than a thousand texts have been recorded, many of them are distinguished by the diversity and richness of the repertoire, mastery of performance and art of composition.
The creative biographies of storytellers are very interesting, allowing you to look into the workshop of a folk craftsman, revealing the pages of the mysterious history of a fairy tale. These biographies are a living, complex history of a long-suffering people.
Among the storytellers there are different types of folk masters: universal storytellers who are equally skilled in telling magical, social, adventurous, historical tales and legends, masters of the satirical genre, and epic storytellers. This confirms our belief that Ukrainian folk tales still live a full life today.
When you observe the living existence of a folk tale in our time, you see its topicality, its ability to respond to the events of recent years, you simply do not believe that this is one of the most ancient folklore genres, rooted in the prehistoric era. The written literature of Kievan Rus often mentions storytellers and fairy tales and gives reason to assume that already in the 11th-12th centuries. there was a “fable,” that is, a type of narrative oral poetry that had developed over centuries, widespread and popular among the princely and peasant militias.
In “The Tale of Bygone Years” we read the tale of the three brothers Kiy, Shchek and Khorev, who laid the foundation of Kyiv, tales of the campaigns and the death of the prophetic Oleg, of Princess Olga’s revenge for the death of her husband, of Kirill Kozhemyak and other tales, in their ideological content and in their artistic form they are close to a fairy tale.
Obviously, by the 13th century. fairy-tale rituals were also developed, organically connected with traditional plots and images.
Kievan Rus was the common cradle of culture of the Russian, Ukrainian and Belarusian peoples. It nurtured the most ancient monuments of oral creativity: ritual poetry, fairy tales and legends, epic and lyric epic songs, monuments created by the genius of all East Slavic tribes.
Ukrainian fairy tale is the sister of Russian and Belarusian fairy tales. They have one mother - the “fable” of Kievan Rus.
Castles and fortresses rightfully occupy first positions in the ratings the most visited places in Ukraine.
Almost every fortress has its own ghosts. Huge underground passages were dug from almost every one, so gigantic that an entire cart with four horses could pass through there.
In a word, there are many legends, but maybe they are not legends at all? We decided to collect the most unusual, interesting, in our opinion, stories about Ukrainian castles.
It has survived countless of its owners and inhabitants, dozens of assaults and sieges and has been preserved in almost perfect condition to this day.
This fortress was most glorified by two women - Sofia Bathory and Ilona Zrini - mother-in-law and daughter-in-law, who, while managing the castle, also managed to quarrel with each other.
And if Ilona went down in history as a brave defender of the fortification, then Sofia Bathory suffered mystical, terrible glory.
It is often said that this woman had an addiction to human blood and not only killed for it, but also took blood baths, sacrificing 13-year-old virgins.
From Transcarpathia we will go to the Lviv region, namely to the Olesky Castle, in the Bug region. There are, of course, ghosts here, but they are not what we will be talking about. This castle is especially important for the Poles because the future King of Poland, John III Sobieski, was born here in 1629.
And it is precisely about his birth that there is much interesting legend. They say that the mother gave birth to the future commander during a thunderstorm.
But even more dramatic is that at the same time the castle was attacked by the Tatars. And just when the midwife laid the baby on the black marble table, thunder struck. As a result, the table cracked and the woman went deaf. Then it was explained as a prophecy: the baby should become a special person.
In 1951 in Olesko Castle Ominous lightning struck again, which started a terrible fire. But the building survived. Although over all the years of its existence the walls were practically destroyed. And only a few decades ago, practically from ruins, the castle was restored.
The castle was built in the late 1630s. First it belonged to Hetman Stanislav Koniecpolski, later to Jan III Sobieski, then to Waclaw Rzewuski; in addition to the holders of the crown, it also belonged to the landowners Sengushki.
And everyone who, from the 18th century until now, had to spend at least a night within the legendary walls, saw its terrible secret.
Translucent, in a white robe and with a black face, Maria. Who is this woman whose ghost was seen by almost all the residents of the village?
It turns out that the soul of the murdered young wife of Vaclav Zhevuski, Maria, has not found peace. He actually killed the countess in a fit of jealousy. He hid the body somewhere in the castle, since he could not bury his victim with all the rituals. Some old-timers say that the body of the young wife was walled up in the stone walls of the castle.
Kremenets Castle
Photo instagram.com/chaban.denis
Well, now we offer go to Ternopil region, namely to its Volyn part - . There, today, from Mount Bona, on which the castle stands, there is a very beautiful view.
There is a very ancient legend about these places.
Allegedly, many years ago, even before Kievan Rus and long before the construction of the real castle, the daughter of the Dulib governor of Tours named Irva admired the landscapes every morning from the high (then) fortress tower. Suddenly the mountain was surrounded by an enemy army of Avars.
Seeing the beautiful Irva above, the hostile ruler fell madly in love. He demanded that Irva be given to him. Having learned about this, the girl decided to refuse.
Photo funtime.kiev.ua
Lock lost among the reeds Odessa region.
On the coast of the Tiligul Estuary you can discover something special. A destroyed bridge hints that a river once flowed here. Now Kuris Palace- this is an architectural monument of national importance, and once it was a unique building of the family estate of Lieutenant Colonel Ivan Onufrievich Kurys.
The estate was not built immediately. In the 1810-1820s, its eastern wing was designed, and in 1891-1892, the main part of the building. The palace was completed after the death of its first owner. The architectural composition of the palace ensemble embodies the Moorish style using Gothic elements.
This type of construction contrasted sharply with other ancient buildings that were being built at that time in Ukraine. The most striking detail of the ancient part of the building, and all Kuris Palace, is an octagonal tower resembling a minaret.
It rises high above the building, allowing you to notice the estate itself from afar. In the new part of the building, a large hall was provided for receiving guests, holding balls and celebrating various celebrations.
Its striking feature was that the main lighting came through the roof. The ceiling was supported by columns, which were decorated with alfrey paintings. This spoke of the emergence of romanticism in the architectural style of Ukraine in the 19th century.
At both sides Kuris Palace was decorated with one-story arcades.
Castle - ship
In the village of Sidorov in the Ternopil region, over the Sukhodol River, the ruins of a castle - a ship - rise into the sky. Built in the 1640s by the Polish crown hetman, voivode of Chernigov Marcin Kalinowski, the castle, with its unusual elongated shape, really resembles a ship. Its length is 178 meters and its width is 30 meters.
The “nose” part of the castle, a majestic tower that served to monitor the area. In the event of an enemy attack, the river would be blocked with dams, and the fortress-ship would end up on an island, among swamps and lakes.
Every old castle keeps his legends. Many of them contradict stories, some are not true at all. However, people tend to believe in them.
Because life is more interesting when you are surrounded by mystical fiction, fairy tales, and legends.
Don't waste time and travel around Ukrainian castles!
1) There is an old Ukrainian legend. 2) The mother had an only son. 3) He married a girl of amazing, unprecedented beauty. 4) But the girl’s heart was black and unkind. 5) The son brought his young wife to his home. 6) The daughter-in-law did not like the mother-in-law and said to her husband: “Let the mother not come into the house, put her in the entryway.” 7) The son settled his mother in the hallway and forbade her to enter the house. 8) The mother was afraid to appear in front of her evil daughter-in-law. 9) As soon as the daughter-in-law walked through the hallway, the mother hid under the bed.
10) But even this was not enough for the daughter-in-law. 11) She says to her husband: “So that the spirit of the mother does not smell in the house. 12) Moved her to the barn.” 13) The son moved his mother into the barn. 14) Only at night the mother came out of the dark barn.
15) One evening a young beauty was resting under a blooming apple tree and saw her mother come out of the barn. 16) The wife became furious and ran to her husband: “If you want me to live with you, kill my mother, take the heart out of her chest and bring it to me.” 17) The son’s heart did not tremble; he was bewitched by the unprecedented beauty of his wife. 18) He says to his mother: “Come on, mom, let’s swim in the river.” 19) They go to the river along a rocky bank. 20) Mother tripped over a stone. 21) The son got angry: “Why are you tripping, mom? 22) Why don’t you look at your feet? 23) So we will go to the river until evening.”
24) They came, undressed, and swam. 25) The son killed his mother, took her heart out of her chest, put it in a maple leaf, and carried it. 26) A mother’s heart trembles. 27) The son tripped over a stone, fell, hit his knee, the hot mother’s heart fell on a sharp cliff, bled, started and whispered: “My dear son, didn’t you hurt your knee? 28) Sit down, rest, rub the bruised area with your palm.”
29) The son began to sob, grabbed his mother’s heart with his palms, pressed it to his chest, returned to the river, put the heart into his torn chest, and poured it with bitter tears. 30) He realized that no one had ever loved him as devotedly and selflessly as his own mother.
31) And so enormous and inexhaustible was maternal love, so deep and omnipotent was the desire of the mother’s heart to see her son joyful and carefree, that the heart came to life, the torn chest closed, the mother stood up and pressed her son’s curly head to her chest. 32) After this, the son could not return to his beautiful wife; she became hateful to him. 33) Mother did not return home either. 34) The two of them went across the steppes and became two mounds. 35)And every morning the rising sun illuminates the tops of the mounds with its first rays...
36) This is the legend created by folk wisdom. 37) There is no love stronger than a mother’s, there is no tenderness more tender than a mother’s caress and care, there is no anxiety more alarming than sleepless nights and a mother’s unclosed eyes.
38) Filial gratitude... 39) How many bitter thoughts and sorrowful minutes does a mother’s and father’s heart experience, feeling that a son or daughter is indifferent, heartless, that they have forgotten about the good done for them by their mother and father. 40)And there is no higher joy for a person who feels the approaching twilight of his life than the joy, the source of which is the gratitude of children for the good and blessings created by parents in the name of the goodness and benefit of the children. 41) Ungrateful son, ungrateful daughter - in the treasury of folk morality, this is perhaps the sharpest, most profound condemnation of human vices.
(According to V.A. Sukhomlinsky)
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In this text, V.A. Sukhomlinsky raises the problem of maternal love.
The author addresses a pressing moral problem. An outstanding teacher tells an old Ukrainian legend. He describes the story of a young man who killed his mother for the love of his beautiful wife. But the son came to his senses only after he dropped his mother’s heart. His mother did not condemn him for his cruel act, but, on the contrary, advised him to sit down and rest. It was then that the son “realized that no one had ever loved him as devotedly and selflessly as his own mother.” V.A. Sukhomlinsky notes that “maternal love was enormous and inexhaustible.” The mother’s great desire to see her son happy helped her return to life and reunite with her son.
I completely share the opinion of V.A. Sukhomlinsky. Our mothers are ready to make any sacrifice for the sake of their children, their love is so pure and sincere that in difficult times they will help without asking for anything in return. A mother will never betray, she will always take care of her children, worry about their failures and be incredibly happy,
Criteria
- 1 of 1 K1 Formulation of source text problems
- 1 of 3 K2
