Hans Christian Andersen

State Publishing House "Main Administration", Moscow, 1923

Translator: not specified

Illustrations: M. Ivashintsova.

Once upon a time there were twenty-five tin soldiers in the world. Twenty-five siblings born from one tin spoon! All of them were beautiful, dressed in blue uniforms, with sabers over their shoulders and in beautiful helmets on their heads. They held themselves straight and proud, they all resembled each other like two peas in a pod. Only one of them was not like the others: he had only one leg! Unhappy! It was cast after everyone else, and there was not enough tin for it.

But imagine, despite the fact that he had only one leg, he was not at all embarrassed by this and held himself as firmly and straight as everyone else. The first word that the soldiers heard when the box in which they were placed was opened was a joyful exclamation:

Oh! tin soldiers!

It was the cry of a little boy who had received them as a gift on his name day and, clapping his hands for joy, immediately began to arrange them on his table.

There were a lot of toys on this table. All these were beautiful and expensive things, but best of all there was a paper castle. He was just like the real thing. Through its windows one could see rooms lined with upholstered furniture, and in front of it was a pretty garden with green trees and a lake on which white swans swam. The doors of the castle were open, and a pretty, well-dressed lady stood in them, in a light blue dress and with a narrow ribbon over her shoulder, on which was attached a large beautiful rose. Although the lady was also made of paper, nevertheless, she was charming, and our soldier looked at her completely. The beauty pretended to be a dancer, her arms were stretched forward, and one leg was raised so high that the soldier did not see her at all and thought that she suffered from the same physical defect as he did.

"That's a good wife for me!" he thought. "It's just a pity that she's so noble and lives in a castle! Perhaps my room, in which twenty-five of us live, will not be suitable for her. But I will still get to know her !" he decided and hid behind a snuffbox, from where he could imperceptibly admire the beautiful dancer.

When evening came, the soldiers were again put into their box, and everyone in the house went to bed. But then the fun began! All the toys on the table began to move and began to play different games. There was a terrible noise and merriment. The tongs tumbled, the jerks danced, the tops spun in a dizzying waltz - and only the dancer and the lone soldier did not move. She still stood on one leg, arms outstretched, and he, standing behind the snuffbox, did not take his eyes off her. They forgot to put him in a box, along with all the soldiers who were now restlessly tossing and turning there, trying to lift the lid to join in the general fun. But they did not succeed at all, the lid was heavy for them. Suddenly, at midnight, in the snuffbox, behind which our soldier was standing, some kind of crack was heard, and a little devil jumped out of it.

Tin Soldier! he shouted. - Don't look at the one with which you have nothing in common!

But the soldier pretended not to hear him and continued to stare hard at the one-legged dancer!

Aha! You don't listen! - the devil squeaked. - Well, you'll see tomorrow what will happen to you!

In the morning, when the children got up, they began to rearrange the toys and, taking the soldier, put him on the window. But at this time, whether the wind blew, or it was the work of the devil, but the window suddenly flew open, and our poor hero flew headfirst straight onto the pavement! Having fallen, he got stuck between the stones and, moreover, in a very uncomfortable position: standing on his head, with his leg raised up. Yes; it was very unpleasant.

The children and the maid searched for a fallen soldier for a long time on the pavement, but they never found it. He should have called out to them, "I'm here!" and they, of course, would have seen him, but he thought it indecent to shout in the street, and said nothing.

It soon began to pour rain, and the poor soldier was completely soaked. He was very ill, and he had already begun to think about death, when suddenly someone's hands grabbed him, and he heard a child's voice.

"Ba-ba-ba! Tin soldier!

Let's send him out for a boat ride!"

And the boy who held him in his hand immediately made a boat out of newsprint and, putting him into it, let the boat into the gutter. Wow! How fast the boat went! The soldier even took his breath away. And the waves raged all around! .. Every second one could expect that the boat would capsize and go to the bottom, it was rocking so hard from side to side.

But the soldier stood bravely in the middle of the boat, holding his gun on his shoulder and maintaining the most calm look.

Suddenly, he drove under some kind of bridge and saw under it a large water rat, which immediately swam up to his boat and squeaked sternly: "Do you have a passport? Show me your passport!"

The soldier did not answer her and silently rode on. An angry rat swam after him, shouting loudly: "Hold him, hold him! He is without a passport! He does not pay duty!"... But it was too late, the boat rushed faster and faster! which the ditch poured in - and spun in it so that the poor soldier's head began to spin. But he knew how to control himself, and not a single person in the world could notice from his face that he was so ill. He didn't even seem to blink. Only when the water began to pour over the edge, and the paper from which the boat was made began to unravel, did he realize that he was in danger of death. With longing he remembered the dear dancer, whom he was not destined to see again, and a song sounded in his ears:

"Forward, forward, warrior!

You must face death!"

At that moment, the paper was torn, and he felt that he was sinking ... Fuck! He was swallowed by a large predatory fish! ..

"God, how dark! And how crowded! .. Worse than in a box!" thought the soldier, lying in the belly of the fish. And the unfortunate fish, having swallowed such an inconvenient thing, rushed about in all directions, making some strange movements ...

But suddenly it became light again, and the soldier heard someone's voice: "Fathers! Tin soldier!" This was said by the cook who had taken it out of the fish she had bought at the market and was just about to cook. She took the soldier and carried him to the nursery, to the same nursery from whose window he had so unexpectedly fallen into the street.

Imagine his surprise when, having regained consciousness, he looked around and - again saw the dancer in front of him, standing at the door of the paper house! pens.

It was so touching! The soldier was ready to cry for joy and tenderness. They looked at each other and did not say a word ... Whether there are words here, judge for yourself!

Suddenly, one of the children grabbed the soldier and threw him into the stove.

Oh, it must have been the tricks of the devil!

The soldier felt a terrible heat, but thought it was from love. The fire melted his body, the colors left him, and he still looked at the dancer, clutching his gun to his chest.

At this time, the door was opened in the room, and a gust of wind seized the dancer, so that, spinning in the air, she also flew straight into the stove.

In one minute, the flames destroyed her. The soldier also completely melted and turned into a small tin lump, which, together with the tinsel ash left from the dancer, was swept out of the stove along with the ashes and thrown into the garbage pit by the maid.

Thus ended the story of the persistent tin soldier!..

On this bed they laid the princess for the night.
In the morning they asked her how she slept.
- Oh, terribly bad! the princess replied. I haven't closed my eyes all night. God knows what I had in bed! I was lying on something hard and now I have bruises all over my body! It's just awful what it is!
Then everyone realized that in front of them was a real princess. Why, she felt the pea through twenty mattresses and twenty eiderdown duvets! Only a real princess can be so tender.
The prince took her as his wife, because now he knew that he was taking a real princess for himself, and the pea ended up in the cabinet of curiosities, where she can be seen to this day, if only no one stole her. Know that this is a true story!

13. Steadfast tin soldier

Andersen
There were once twenty-five tin soldiers in the world. All the sons of one mother - an old tin spoon - and, therefore, they were brothers to each other. They were nice, brave guys: a gun on their shoulders, a chest with a wheel, a red uniform, blue lapels, shiny buttons ... Well, in a word, what a miracle, what kind of soldiers!
All twenty-five lay side by side in a cardboard box. It was dark and cramped inside. But the tin soldiers are a patient people, they lay still and waited for the day when the box was opened.
And then one day the box was opened.
- Tin soldiers! Tin soldiers! cried the little boy, and clapped his hands for joy.
He was presented with tin soldiers on his birthday.
The boy immediately began to arrange them on the table. Twenty-four were exactly the same - one could not be distinguished from the other, and the twenty-fifth soldier was not like everyone else. He turned out to be single. It was cast last, and the tin was a little short. However, he stood on one leg just as firmly as the others on two.
It was with this one-legged soldier that a wonderful story happened, which I will now tell you.
There were many different toys on the table where the boy built his soldiers. But the best of all toys was a wonderful cardboard palace. Through its windows one could look inside and see all the rooms. In front of the palace lay a round mirror. It was just like a real lake, and around this mirror lake there were little green trees. Wax swans swam across the lake and, arching their long necks, admired their reflection.
All this was beautiful, but the most beautiful was the mistress of the palace, standing on the threshold, in the wide-open doors. She, too, was cut out of cardboard; she wore a skirt of thin cambric, a blue scarf on her shoulders, and a shiny brooch on her chest, almost as big as her owner's head, and just as beautiful.
The beauty stood on one leg, stretching out both hands forward - she must have been a dancer. She raised the other leg so high that our tin soldier at first even decided that the beauty was also one-legged, like himself.
“I wish I had such a wife! thought the tin soldier. - Yes, only she, probably, a noble family. Wow, what a beautiful palace he lives in! .. And my house is a simple box, and even a whole company of us packed there - twenty-five soldiers. No, she doesn't belong there! But it doesn’t hurt to get to know her…”
And the soldier hid behind a snuffbox, which stood right there on the table.
From here he had a perfect view of the lovely dancer, who stood on one leg all the time and never even swayed!
Late in the evening, all the tin soldiers, except for the one-legged one - they could not find him - were put in a box, and all the people went to bed.
And when it became completely quiet in the house, the toys themselves began to play: first to visit, then to the war, and in the end they had a ball. The tin soldiers banged their guns against the walls of their box - they also wanted to go free and play, but they could not lift the heavy lid. Even the nutcracker began to tumble, and the stylus began to dance on the board, leaving white marks on it - tra-ta-ta-ta, tra-ta-ta-ta! There was such a noise that the canary woke up in the cage and began to chat in its own language as quickly as it could, and moreover, in verse.
Only the one-legged soldier and the dancer did not move.
She still stood on one leg, stretching forward both hands, and he froze with a gun in his hands, like a sentry, and did not take his eyes off the beauty.
It struck twelve. And suddenly - click! The snuffbox opened.
This snuffbox never smelled of tobacco, but there was a little evil troll in it. He jumped out of the snuffbox, as if on a spring, and looked around.
- Hey you, tin soldier! the troll shouted. - Do not hurt to look at the dancer! She's too good for you.
But the tin soldier pretended not to hear anything.
- Ah, there you are! - said the troll. - Okay, wait until morning! You will still remember me!
In the morning, when the children woke up, they found a one-legged soldier behind a snuffbox and put him on the window.
And suddenly - either the troll set it up, or it just pulled a draft, who knows? - but as soon as the window swung open, and the one-legged soldier flew from the third floor upside down, so much so that his ears whistled. Well, he got scared!
Not a minute passed - and he was already sticking out of the ground upside down, and his gun and head in a helmet were stuck between the cobblestones.
The boy and the maid immediately ran out into the street to look for the soldier. But no matter how much they looked around, no matter how they rummaged around on the ground, they did not find it.
Once they almost stepped on a soldier, but even then they passed by without noticing him. Of course, if the soldier shouted: “I'm here!” - he would be found immediately. But he considered it obscene to shout in the street - after all, he wore a uniform and was a soldier, and besides, he was made of tin.
The boy and the maid went back into the house. And then all of a sudden it started to rain! Real downpour!
Wide puddles spread along the street, fast streams flowed. And when at last the rain stopped, two street boys ran up to the place where the tin soldier was sticking out between the cobblestones.
"Look," one of them said. - Yes, no way, this is a tin soldier! .. Let's send him to sea!
And they made a boat out of an old newspaper, put a tin soldier in it and lowered it into a ditch.
The boat swam away, and the boys ran side by side, jumping up and down and clapping their hands.
The water in the ditch was churning. Why would she not seethe after such a downpour! The boat then dived, then flew up to the crest of the wave, then it circled in place, then carried it forward.
The tin soldier in the boat was trembling all over - from helmet to boot - but he held himself steadfastly, as a real soldier should: a gun on his shoulder, head up, chest like a wheel.
And now the boat skidded under a wide bridge. It became so dark, as if the soldier had fallen into his box again.
“Where am I? thought the tin soldier. - Oh, if my beautiful dancer was with me! Then I wouldn't care...”
At that moment, a large water rat jumped out from under the bridge.
- Who are you? she screamed. - Do you have a passport? Show your passport!
But the tin soldier was silent and only tightly clutched his gun. His boat was carried farther and farther, and the rat swam after him. She snapped her teeth fiercely and shouted to the chips and straws floating towards her:
- Hold it! Hold on! He doesn't have a passport!
And she raked her paws with all her might to catch up with the soldier. But the boat was carried so fast that even a rat could not keep up with it. Finally the tin soldier saw a light ahead. The bridge is over.
“I am saved!” thought the soldier.
But then such a rumble and roar was heard that any brave man could not stand it and trembled with fear. Just think: behind the bridge, the water fell down noisily - right into a wide, turbulent canal!
The tin soldier, who was sailing in a small paper boat, was in the same danger as we were if we were carried in a real boat to a real big waterfall.
But it was impossible to stop. The boat with the tin soldier was swept into a large canal. The waves tossed and tossed her up and down, but the soldier still behaved well and did not even blink an eye.
And suddenly the boat spun in place, scooped up water on the right side, then on the left, then again on the right, and was soon filled with water to the very brim.
Here the soldier is already waist-deep in water, now up to his throat ... And finally the water covered him with his head.
Plunging to the bottom, he sadly thought about his beauty. He will never see the sweet dancer again!
But then he remembered an old soldier's song:
Step forward, always forward!
Glory awaits you beyond the grave! ..-
and prepared with honor to meet death in a terrible abyss. However, something completely different happened.
Out of nowhere, a large fish emerged from the water and instantly swallowed the soldier along with his gun.
Oh, how dark and cramped it was in the stomach of the fish, darker than under the bridge, tighter than in the box! But the tin soldier held firm even here. He drew himself up to his full height and tightened his grip on his gun. So he stayed for quite some time.
Suddenly, the fish darted from side to side, began to dive, wriggle, jump, and finally froze.
The soldier could not understand what had happened. He prepared to face new trials courageously, but the surroundings were still dark and quiet.
And suddenly, like lightning, flashed in the dark.
Then it became completely light, and someone shouted:
- That's the thing! Tin soldier!
And the thing was this: the fish was caught, brought to the market, and then she got into the kitchen. The cook cut open her belly with a large shiny knife and saw a tin soldier. She took it with two fingers and carried it into the room.
The whole house came running to see the wonderful traveler. The soldier was put on the table, and suddenly - what kind of miracles do not happen in the world! - he saw the same room, the same boy, the same window from which he flew out into the street ... There were the same toys around, and among them rose a cardboard palace, and a beautiful dancer stood on the threshold. She stood still on one leg, holding the other high. Now that's called resilience!
The tin soldier was so moved that tin tears almost rolled from his eyes, but he remembered in time that a soldier was not supposed to cry. Without blinking, he looked at the dancer, the dancer looked at him, and both were silent.
Suddenly one of the boys - the smallest one - grabbed a tin soldier and for no reason threw him directly into the stove. Probably, he was taught by an evil troll from a snuffbox.
The firewood burned brightly in the stove, and the tin soldier became terribly hot. He felt that everything was on fire - whether from fire, or from love - he himself did not know. The color had fled from his face, he was completely shed - perhaps from chagrin, or perhaps because he had been in the water and in the stomach of a fish.
But even in the fire he held himself upright, tightly clutched his gun and did not take his eyes off the beautiful dancer. And the dancer looked at him. And the soldier felt that he was melting...
At that moment, the door to the room was flung open, a through wind picked up the beautiful dancer, and she, like a butterfly, fluttered into the stove right to the tin soldier. The flame engulfed her, she flared up - and the end. At this point, the tin soldier completely melted.
The next day, the maid began to remove the ashes from the stove and found a small lump of tin, like a heart, and a burnt, black as coal, brooch.
It was all that was left of the steadfast tin soldier and the beautiful dancer.

14. Rosebush Elf

15. Ole Lukoye

G.-H. Andersen
No one in the world knows as many fairy tales as Ole Lukoye knows them. Here's a master of storytelling!
In the evening, when the children are sitting quietly at the table or on their benches, Ole Lukoye appears. In only stockings, he quietly climbs the stairs; then he cautiously opens the door, steps inaudibly into the room, and lightly sprinkles sweet milk in the eyes of the children. He has a small syringe in his hands, and milk squirts out of it in a thin, thin stream. Then the eyelids of the children begin to stick together, and they can no longer see Ole, and he sneaks up behind them and begins to lightly blow on their heads. It will blow - and their heads will now become heavy. It does not hurt at all - Ole Lukoye does not have malicious intent; he only wants the children to calm down, and for this they must certainly be put to bed! Well, he will put them down, and then he begins to tell fairy tales. When the children fall asleep, Ole Lukoye sits down on the bed with them. He is dressed wonderfully: he is wearing a silk caftan, but it is impossible to say what color - it shimmers either blue, then green, then red, depending on which way Ole turns. He has an umbrella under his arms: one with pictures, which he opens over good children, and then they dream of the most wonderful fairy tales all night, and the other is quite simple, smooth, which he unfolds over bad children: well, they sleep like chumps all night , and in the morning it turns out that they saw absolutely nothing in a dream!
Let us hear how Ole Lukoye used to visit one little boy, Hjalmar, every evening and tell him stories! It will be as many as seven tales - there are seven days in a week.
MONDAY
- Well, - said Ole Lukoye, putting Hjalmar to bed, - now let's decorate the room!
And in an instant, all the indoor flowers grew, turned into large trees, which stretched their long branches along the walls to the very ceiling; the whole room turned into a most wonderful gazebo. The branches of the trees were strewn with flowers; each flower was better in beauty and smell than a rose, and in taste (if you only wanted to taste it) sweeter than jam; the fruits shone like gold. There were also donuts on the trees, which almost burst from the raisin filling. It's just a miracle! Suddenly, terrible groans arose in the drawer where Hjalmar's study supplies lay.
- What is there? - said Ole-Lukoye, went and pulled out a drawer.
It turned out that it was the slate board that tore and threw: an error crept into the solution of the problem written on it, and all the calculations were ready to fall apart; the stylus jumped and jumped on his string like a little dog; he wanted so much to help the cause, but he could not. Hjalmar's notebook also groaned loudly; just took horror, listening to her! On each of its pages, at the beginning of each line, there were wonderful large and small letters - it was a copy; others walked beside them, imagining that they held just as firmly. Hjalmar himself wrote them, and they seemed to stumble over the rulers on which they should have stood.
- Here's how to hold on! the scripture said. - Like this, with a slight tilt to the right!
“Ah, we would be glad,” answered the letters of Hjalmar, “but we can’t!” We are so bad!
- So you need to pull up a little! - said-Ole-Lukoye.
- Oh, no, no! - they shouted and straightened up so that it was a pleasure to look.
- Nu, now us not until fairy tales! - said Ole-Lukoye. - Let's practice! One-two! One-two!
And he brought the letters of Hjalmar to the point that they stood evenly and cheerfully, like any copybook. But when Ole Lukoye left and Hjalmar woke up in the morning, they looked as miserable as before.
TUESDAY
As soon as Hjalmar lay down, Ole Lukoye touched the furniture with his magic syringe, and all things immediately began to chatter among themselves; everything except the spittoon; this one was silent and angry to herself at their vanity: they talk only about themselves and about themselves and do not even think about the one who so modestly stands in the corner and allows herself to be spit on!
Above the chest of drawers hung a large picture in a gilded frame; it depicted a beautiful countryside: tall old trees, grass, flowers and a wide river running past wonderful palaces, beyond the forest, into the distant sea.
Ole Lukoye touched the picture with a magic syringe, and the birds painted on it sang, the branches of the trees stirred, and the clouds rushed across the sky; one could even see how their shadow glided across the picture.
Then Ole lifted Hjalmar to the frame, and the boy stood with his feet straight into the tall grass. The sun shone on him through the branches of the trees, he ran to the water and sat down in the boat, which swayed near the shore. The boat was painted red and white, and six gold-crowned swans with shining blue stars on their heads drew the boat along green forests, where the trees told of robbers and witches, and the flowers told of lovely little elves and what butterflies told them.
The most wonderful fish with silver and golden scales swam behind the boat, dived and splashed their tails in the water; red, blue, large and small birds flew after Hjalmar in two long lines; the mosquitoes danced and the Maybugs hummed "Boom! Boom!" everyone wanted to see Hjalmar off, and everyone had a fairy tale ready for him.

Fairy tale The Steadfast Tin Soldier read:

There used to be twenty-five tin soldiers, mother's brothers - an old tin spoon, a gun on his shoulder, a straight head, a red and blue uniform - well, what a charm for soldiers! The first words they heard when they opened their box house were: "Ah, tin soldiers!" It was shouted, clapping his hands, by a little boy who was presented with tin soldiers on his birthday. And he immediately began to arrange them on the table. All the soldiers were exactly the same, except for one, which was with one leg. He was cast last, and the tin was a little short, but he stood on his foot as firmly as the others on two; and he just turned out to be the most remarkable of all.

On the table where the soldiers found themselves, there were many different toys, but the palace made of cardboard was most striking. Through the small windows one could see the palace chambers; in front of the palace, around a small mirror that depicted a lake, there were trees, and wax swans swam and admired their reflection on the lake. All this was a miracle, how sweet, but the sweetest of all was the young lady who stood on the very threshold of the palace. She, too, was cut out of paper and dressed in a skirt of the finest cambric; over her shoulder was a narrow blue ribbon in the form of a scarf, and on her chest sparkled a rosette the size of the face of the young lady herself. The young lady stood on one leg, her arms outstretched - she was a dancer - and raised the other leg so high that our soldier did not see her, and thought that the beauty was also one-legged, like him.

“I wish I had such a wife! he thought. “Only she, apparently, from the nobility, lives in the palace, and I only have that box, and even then there are twenty-five of us packed in it, she doesn’t belong there!” But it doesn't hurt to get to know each other."

And he hid behind a snuffbox, which stood right there on the table; from here he could perfectly see the lovely dancer, who was still standing on one leg, not losing her balance.

Late in the evening, all the other tin soldiers were put in a box, and all the people in the house went to bed. Now the toys themselves began to play as guests, at war and at the ball. The tin soldiers began to knock on the sides of the box - they also wanted to play, but they could not lift the lids. The Nutcracker tumbled, the lead wrote on the board; there was such a noise and uproar that the canary woke up and also spoke, and even in verse! Only the dancer and the tin soldier did not budge: she still held on to her outstretched toe, stretching her arms forward, he stood cheerfully and did not take his eyes off her.

It struck twelve. Click! — The box opened.

There was no tobacco, but a little black troll was sitting; the snuffbox was with a focus!

- Tin soldier, - said the troll, - you don’t need to look!

The tin soldier didn't seem to hear.

- Well, wait! the troll said.

In the morning the children got up and put the tin soldier on the window.

Suddenly - whether by the grace of a troll or from a draft - the window flew open, and our soldier flew headlong down from the third floor - only his ears whistled! A minute - and he was already standing on the pavement with his foot up: his head in a helmet and a gun were stuck between the pavement stones.

The boy and the maid immediately ran out in search, but no matter how hard they tried, they could not find the soldier; they almost stepped on him with their feet, and yet they did not notice him. He shouts to them: "I'm here!" - they, of course, would immediately find him, but he considered it indecent to shout in the street, he wore a uniform!

It started to rain; stronger, stronger, finally poured downpour. When it cleared up again, two street boys came.

— Look! one said. "There's the tin soldier!" Let's send him sailing!

And they made a boat out of newsprint, put a tin soldier in it and let it into the groove.

The boys themselves ran around and clapped their hands. Well well! That's how the waves went along the groove! The current carried on - no wonder after such a downpour!

The boat was thrown and turned in all directions, so that the tin soldier was trembling all over, but he held on steadfastly: a gun on his shoulder, head straight, chest forward!

The boat was carried under the long walkways: it became so dark, as if the soldier had again fallen into the box.

“Where is it taking me? he thought. Yes, it's all the jokes of the nasty troll! Oh, if that beauty were sitting with me in the boat - for me, be at least twice as dark!

At that moment, a large rat jumped out from under the bridge.

- Do you have a passport? she asked. - Get your passport!

But the tin soldier was silent and clutched his gun even tighter. The boat was carried away, and the rat swam after it. Wu! How she gnashed her teeth and shouted to the chips and straws floating towards:

- Hold it, hold it! He did not pay the duty, did not show his passport!

But the current carried the boat faster and faster, and the tin soldier had already seen the light ahead, when he suddenly heard such a terrible noise that any brave man would have chickened out. Imagine, at the end of the bridge, the water from the groove rushed into a large channel! It was as scary for the soldier as it was for us to rush in a boat to a large waterfall.

But the soldier was carried farther and farther, it was impossible to stop. The boat with the soldier slid down; the poor fellow remained steadfast as before and did not even bat an eyelid. The boat spun… One, two — filled with water to the brim and began to sink. The tin soldier found himself up to his neck in the water; further more ... the water covered him with his head! Then he thought of his beauty: not to see him again. In his ears sounded:

Strive forward, o warrior,

And meet death calmly!

The paper was torn, and the tin soldier was about to sink, but at the same moment he was swallowed by a fish.

What darkness! Worse than under the bridges, and even fear how crowded! But the tin soldier held firm and lay stretched out at full length, holding his gun tightly to him.

The fish darted back and forth, made the most amazing jumps, but suddenly froze, as if lightning had struck it. A light flashed and someone shouted: "Tin soldier!"

The fact is that the fish was caught, brought to the market, then it got into the kitchen, and the cook cut open her belly with a large knife. The cook took the tin soldier by the waist with two fingers and carried him into the room, where all the households ran to look at the wonderful traveler. But the tin soldier was not at all proud. They put him on the table, and - something that does not happen in the world! - he found himself in the same room, saw the same children, the same toys and a wonderful palace with a lovely little dancer. She still stood on one leg, holding the other high. That's so resilience! The tin soldier was touched and nearly burst into tears with tin, but that would have been indecent, and he restrained himself. He looked at her, she at him, but they did not say a word.

Suddenly one of the boys grabbed a tin soldier and for no reason threw him right into the stove. It must have been a troll setting it all up! The tin soldier stood engulfed in flames: he was terribly hot, from fire or love - he himself did not know. The colors have completely peeled off from him, he has shed all over; who knows from what - from the road or from grief? He looked at the dancer, she looked at him, and he felt that he was melting, but he still held on steadfastly, with a gun on his shoulder. Suddenly the door in the room flung open, the wind picked up the dancer, and like a sylph, she fluttered right into the stove to the tin soldier, flared up at once and - the end!

And the tin soldier melted and melted into a lump. The next day the maid was raking the ashes out of the stove and found a small pewter heart; from the dancer, only one rosette was left, and even that one was all burned and blackened like coal.

There were once twenty-five tin soldiers in the world. All the sons of one mother - an old tin spoon - and, therefore, they were brothers to each other. They were nice, brave guys: a gun on their shoulders, a chest with a wheel, a red uniform, blue lapels, shiny buttons ... Well, in a word, what a miracle, what kind of soldiers!

All twenty-five lay side by side in a cardboard box. It was dark and cramped inside. But the tin soldiers are a patient people, they lay still and waited for the day when the box was opened.

And then one day the box was opened.

Tin soldiers! Tin soldiers! cried the little boy, and clapped his hands for joy.

He was presented with tin soldiers on his birthday.

The boy immediately began to arrange them on the table. Twenty-four were exactly the same - one could not be distinguished from the other, and the twenty-fifth soldier was not like everyone else. He turned out to be single. It was cast last, and the tin was a little short. However, he stood on one leg just as firmly as the others on two.

It was with this one-legged soldier that a wonderful story happened, which I will now tell you.

There were many different toys on the table where the boy built his soldiers. But the best of all toys was a wonderful cardboard palace. Through its windows one could look inside and see all the rooms. In front of the palace lay a round mirror. It was just like a real lake, and around this mirrored lake were small green trees. Wax swans swam across the lake and, arching their long necks, admired their reflection.

All this was beautiful, but the most beautiful was the mistress of the palace, standing on the threshold, in the wide-open doors. She, too, was cut out of cardboard; she wore a skirt of thin cambric, a blue scarf on her shoulders, and a shiny brooch on her chest, almost as big as her owner's head, and just as beautiful.

The beauty stood on one leg, stretching out both hands forward - she must have been a dancer. She raised the other leg so high that our tin soldier at first even decided that the beauty was also one-legged, like himself.

“I wish I had such a wife! thought the tin soldier. - Yes, only she, probably, a noble family. Wow, what a beautiful palace he lives in! .. And my house is a simple box, and even a whole company of us packed there - twenty-five soldiers. No, she doesn't belong there! But it doesn’t hurt to get to know her…”

And the soldier hid behind a snuffbox, which stood right there on the table.

From here he had a perfect view of the lovely dancer, who stood on one leg all the time and never even swayed!

Late in the evening, all the tin soldiers, except for the one-legged one - they could not find him - were put in a box, and all the people went to bed.

And when it became completely quiet in the house, the toys themselves began to play: first to visit, then to the war, and in the end they had a ball. The tin soldiers banged their guns against the walls of their box; they also wanted to go free and play, but they could not lift the heavy lid. Even the nutcracker began to tumble, and the stylus began to dance on the board, leaving white marks on it - tra-ta-ta-ta, tra-ta-ta-ta! There was such a noise that the canary woke up in the cage and began to chat in its own language as quickly as it could, and moreover, in verse.

Only the one-legged soldier and the dancer did not move.

She still stood on one leg, stretching forward both hands, and he froze with a gun in his hands, like a sentry, and did not take his eyes off the beauty.

It struck twelve. And suddenly - click! The snuffbox opened.

This snuffbox never smelled of tobacco, but there was a little evil troll in it. He jumped out of the snuffbox, as if on a spring, and looked around.

Hey you, tin soldier! the troll shouted. - Do not hurt to look at the dancer! She's too good for you.

But the tin soldier pretended not to hear anything.

Ah, there you are! - said the troll. - Okay, wait until morning! You will still remember me!

In the morning, when the children woke up, they found a one-legged soldier behind a snuffbox and put him on the window.

And suddenly - either the troll set it up, or it just pulled a draft, who knows? - but as soon as the window swung open, and the one-legged soldier flew from the third floor upside down, so much so that his ears whistled. Well, he got scared!

Not a minute passed - and he was already sticking out of the ground upside down, and his gun and head in a helmet were stuck between the cobblestones.

The boy and the maid immediately ran out into the street to look for the soldier. But no matter how much they looked around, no matter how they rummaged around on the ground, they did not find it.

Once they almost stepped on a soldier, but even then they passed by without noticing him. Of course, if the soldier shouted: “I'm here!” - he would be found immediately. But he considered it obscene to shout in the street - after all, he wore a uniform and was a soldier, and besides, he was made of tin.

The boy and the maid went back into the house. And then all of a sudden it started to rain! Real downpour!

Wide puddles spread along the street, fast streams flowed. And when at last the rain stopped, two street boys ran up to the place where the tin soldier was sticking out between the cobblestones.

Look, one of them said. - Yes, no way, this is a tin soldier! .. Let's send him to sea!

And they made a boat out of an old newspaper, put a tin soldier in it and lowered it into a ditch.

The boat swam away, and the boys ran side by side, jumping up and down and clapping their hands.

The water in the ditch was churning. Why would she not seethe after such a downpour! The boat then dived, then flew up to the crest of the wave, then it circled in place, then carried it forward.

The tin soldier in the boat was trembling all over - from helmet to boot - but he held himself steadfastly, as a real soldier should: a gun on his shoulder, head up, chest like a wheel.

And now the boat skidded under a wide bridge. It became so dark, as if the soldier had fallen into his box again.

“Where am I? thought the tin soldier. - Oh, if my beautiful dancer was with me! Then I wouldn't care...”

At that moment, a large water rat jumped out from under the bridge.

Who are you? she screamed. - Do you have a passport? Show your passport!

But the tin soldier was silent and only tightly clutched his gun. His boat was carried farther and farther, and the rat swam after him. She snapped her teeth fiercely and shouted to the chips and straws floating towards her:

Hold it! Hold on! He doesn't have a passport!

And she raked her paws with all her might to catch up with the soldier. But the boat was carried so fast that even a rat could not keep up with it. Finally the tin soldier saw a light ahead. The bridge is over.

“I am saved!” thought the soldier.

But then such a rumble and roar was heard that any brave man could not stand it and trembled with fear. Just think: behind the bridge, the water fell down noisily - right into a wide, turbulent canal!

The tin soldier, who was sailing in a small paper boat, was in the same danger as we were if we were carried in a real boat to a real big waterfall.

But it was impossible to stop. The boat with the tin soldier was swept into a large canal. The waves tossed and tossed her up and down, but the soldier still behaved well and did not even blink an eye.

And suddenly the boat spun in place, scooped up water on the right side, then on the left, then again on the right, and was soon filled with water to the very brim.

Here the soldier is already waist-deep in water, now up to his throat ... And finally the water covered him with his head.

Plunging to the bottom, he sadly thought about his beauty. He will never see the sweet dancer again!

But then he remembered an old soldier's song:

Step forward, always forward!
Glory awaits you beyond the grave! ..-
and prepared with honor to meet death in a terrible abyss. However, something completely different happened.

Out of nowhere, a large fish emerged from the water and instantly swallowed the soldier along with his gun.

Oh, how dark and cramped it was in the stomach of the fish, darker than under the bridge, tighter than in the box! But the tin soldier held firm even here. He drew himself up to his full height and tightened his grip on his gun. So he stayed for quite some time.

Suddenly, the fish darted from side to side, began to dive, wriggle, jump, and finally froze.

The soldier could not understand what had happened. He prepared to face new trials courageously, but the surroundings were still dark and quiet.

And suddenly, like lightning, flashed in the dark.

Then it became completely light, and someone shouted:

That's the thing! Tin soldier!

And the thing was this: the fish was caught, brought to the market, and then she got into the kitchen. The cook cut open her belly with a large shiny knife and saw a tin soldier. She took it with two fingers and carried it into the room.

The whole house came running to see the wonderful traveler. The soldier was put on the table, and suddenly - what kind of miracles do not happen in the world! - he saw the same room, the same boy, the same window from which he flew out into the street ... There were the same toys around, and among them rose a cardboard palace, and a beautiful dancer stood on the threshold. She stood still on one leg, holding the other high. Now that's called resilience!

The tin soldier was so moved that tin tears almost rolled from his eyes, but he remembered in time that a soldier was not supposed to cry. Without blinking, he looked at the dancer, the dancer looked at him, and both were silent.

Suddenly one of the boys - the smallest one - grabbed a tin soldier and for no reason threw him directly into the stove. Probably, he was taught by an evil troll from a snuffbox.

The firewood burned brightly in the stove, and the tin soldier became terribly hot. He felt that everything was on fire - whether from fire, or from love - he himself did not know. The color had fled from his face, he was completely shed - perhaps from chagrin, or perhaps because he had been in the water and in the stomach of a fish.

But even in the fire he held himself upright, tightly clutched his gun and did not take his eyes off the beautiful dancer. And the dancer looked at him. And the soldier felt that he was melting...

At that moment, the door to the room was flung open, a through wind picked up the beautiful dancer, and she, like a butterfly, fluttered into the stove right to the tin soldier. The flame engulfed her, she flared up - and the end. At this point, the tin soldier completely melted.

The next day, the maid began to remove the ashes from the stove and found a small lump of tin, like a heart, and a burnt, black as coal, brooch.

It was all that was left of the steadfast tin soldier and the beautiful dancer.

Page 19 of 22

H.-K. Andersen. "The Steadfast Tin Soldier"

Once, when Andersen was walking along one of the narrow streets of Copenhagen, a little boy ran up to him and, putting a tin soldier into his hand, quickly ran away. It is possible that it was at this moment that the storyteller heard the voice new fairy tale a story about how...
Once upon a time there were twenty-five tin soldiers. They lived in a box where it was dark and cramped. But one day the box was opened and the boy to whom they were presented saw that one soldier was not like everyone else. No, he was just as handsome as his brothers: a gun on his shoulder, a fine uniform, his eyes were fixed forward. But he was cast last, there was not enough tin, and it turned out that he had only one leg. However, even on one leg he stood as firmly as the others on two. And soon you will see it.
In addition to soldiers, there were many different gifts on the table. The most beautiful of all was a cardboard castle, near which stood a charming girl. She was a dancer, so she stood on one leg with her arms outstretched forward, never losing her balance. The girl was so beautiful that the soldier involuntarily thought: “I wish I had such a wife!” It was then that it all began ... No, it was not by chance that the tin soldier had only one leg. What, besides unparalleled stamina (after all, it is much more difficult to stand on one leg) could prove to the beautiful dancer how much he loved her. And in all the trials that fell to his lot, he stood firm, clutching a gun in his hands.
Many of you, for sure, noticed that Andersen's characters are not heroic at all: the ugly duckling, Thumbelina ... now here is the tin soldier. Thus, Andersen pushes readers to a thought that is very important for him: how, looking at them, we should behave - big and strong.
Meanwhile, the fairy tale is invaded by chance (traditional fairy tale device). The fish that swallowed the soldier when he fell out of the window and was carried along the stormy river was bought at the market, and the tin soldier again found himself on the same table, among the same toys. The beautiful dancer still stood on the threshold of the cardboard castle. And still she stretched out her hands, as if urging the soldier to return as soon as possible. And he returned. Everything would have ended well if not for the tricks of the black troll, who also liked the beautiful dancer. The troll suddenly jumped out of a snuffbox standing on the table and shouted: “Stop puffing your eyes at something that is not about your honor!” And although the tin soldier pretended not to hear, the troll shouted menacingly: “Well, wait a minute! Morning will come, you'll see!" This character, traditional for folk Scandinavian legends, in the author's fairy tale still remains the bearer of evil, but at the same time turns into an ordinary mechanical toy. In fairy tales, which are characterized by the interweaving of the fantastic with the real, the unusual often becomes ordinary, and the everyday turns into fabulous.
Please note that Andersen never crosses the line beyond which the toy soldier ceases to be a toy. Revival or transformation (traditional for folk tale) does not occur, but the duality inherent in Andersen's poetics is constantly manifested. It is important for him not only to endow the toy with human properties, but to put the human in the toy above the “toy”. Try to mentally remove this duality and the whole story about the tin soldier will lose all the mysterious appeal and drama.
“You have created a new, amazing world of poetry...,” the famous Norwegian folklorist Mu told Andersen, “you were able to put a clear, modern worldview into it. That is why your fairy tales have become pictures of life, in which eternal truths are reflected.
Andersen himself believed that a true storyteller should be able to put tragic and comic, naive and humorous into a fairy tale. And we, re-reading these fairy tales again, just be ready to experience all this to the fullest. Do children need our support?
ON THE. Dobrolyubov, who highly appreciated Andersen's fairy tales, believed that they themselves have a beneficial effect on the hearts of children, lead them to think freely and naturally, without any exaggeration, because they are devoid of a "moralizing tail."
How to preserve this freedom and naturalness in pedagogical work? First, let's ask the children to discover the duality that is so important for Andersen's poetics: to find moments in the text when the toy soldier feels and thinks like a human, while remaining a toy. (When you begin to understand the author more deeply, he becomes closer to you as a human being). For example, when a soldier, accidentally falling out of a window, flew somersaults from the third floor, he could shout to the children who were looking for him: "I'm here!" However, "he considered it indecent to shout loudly in the street, being in uniform." And he was silent. And when, after returning, he again saw the lovely little dancer, he was so moved that "tin tears almost rolled from his eyes," but he immediately remembered that "a soldier is not supposed to cry." Didn't scream. Didn't cry. - What else? Thus, he remains a toy, but having shown not at all a toy, but a human dignity, he remains true to himself.
There is another sure way that can preserve freedom and naturalness in communication with a fairy tale. And he will lead us to the puppet theater, where toys can come to life not only at night, when people do not see them, but also during the day. For the joy of both children and adults. Andersen himself began to write plays for the puppet theater in his youth and was attached to the theater all his life.
Children - a fairy tale - puppet theater in our minds is always there. In an ordinary theater, the actor is reincarnated into an image, in the puppet theater - revival. It is up to the actor who holds it in his hands to breathe life into the doll. And invent it appearance- to make - only an artist can. From an infinite number individual features the artist selects for each puppet-actor the most typical, the most characteristic, in order to convey the essence of this or that image. What and how in the puppet theater are closely connected. In such a theater, everything is frankly conditional. And everything contains artistic truth, which is achieved by a special character and breadth of generalization. How we will try to play this fairy tale in our own puppet theater, you will now see.
Scenogram of the lesson "Playing Andersen" (fragments)
Teacher. We have been to the puppet theater with you, but we have never arranged our own puppet theater. It's not easy, but let's try. On an excursion to the museum of the Central Puppet Theater named after. Obraztsova told us what puppet theaters are. What kind of theater should we make, because it should be born right in the classroom?
- Table theater, when people in front of everyone control the puppets.
Teacher. What dolls can we quickly make?
- It is best to cut paper dolls.
Teacher. Since almost everyone agrees with this, then everyone will have to turn into artists and draw sketches of puppet heroes. But first we need to decide which episodes of the fairy tale we are going to play. If everyone writes their proposals on a piece of paper, then it will be possible to discuss them. Please note that we have to select not only the most important moments of the fairy tale, but also take into account our capabilities: our puppet theater is just being born. Did everyone write? Listen carefully: “How a soldier saw a dancer”, “Toy Ball”, “Meeting with a water rat”, “How toys came to life at night”, “How a boy played soldiers”, “How a soldier was thrown into the oven”. What are we to choose?
- The episode, when the boy played soldiers, will not be interesting to watch.
- "Night Ball" interesting point and important because a troll appears there.
Teacher. What do you think of a troll?
- So black, like a devil.
- In my opinion, it is very difficult to play a night ball, there are a lot of toys and it takes time to make them.
- It will also be difficult to show how a soldier was thrown into the oven, because you need not only to throw him, but also to show how he dies - melts.
Teacher. What do you think about the meeting of a soldier with a water rat?
- This is a very funny moment and it will be interesting to watch.
- And there are only two actors.
- You will also need a boat and a bridge, but it is not difficult to make it out of paper.
Teacher. So, we make sketches of two dolls: a tin soldier and a water rat. Do not forget that you are making sketches of dolls, and not just drawing fairy tale characters. This is a homework...
See how many soldiers and all kinds of rats are in front of you ... Which of them will play in our puppet theater?
- It seems to me that the soldier in this picture is most suitable for our theater, because he has big expressive eyes.
They look like human...
- And this rat is the most ordinary, it is hard to imagine how she will scream: “Do you have a passport?”
- Here in this picture the rat is not just vicious, but also a little funny. And you can imagine how she screams and chases the tin soldier.
Teacher. We have chosen puppet actors. Remember, in many Andersen's fairy tales there is a narrator: it can be the author himself or someone else. Recall such stories. If we introduce an author-narrator, then it turns out that there are three participants in the improvisation game: a face from the author, a tin soldier and a water rat.
... And now paper dolls appear on the table (ordinary table), which are held by the authors of the most successful sketches-drawings. But first you still need to make a paper boat, figure out how to place a bridge on the table ... think through all the movements of the puppet characters and all the mise en scenes.

Encounter with water beauty
Narrator. When the rain stopped, the boys made a boat out of the newspaper, put a tin soldier in it and let it go down the gutter... forward, holding a gun on his shoulder (While the narrator is talking, the participants in the improvisation game demonstrate all this).
… “Where is this taking me? - thought the soldier, - All this is the tricks of the troll! Now, if a little dancer was sitting in a boat with me ... "
At that moment, a large water rat jumped out from under the bridge - it lived here.
Water rat. “Do you have a passport? Show me your passport!
Narrator. But the tin soldier was silent and pressed his gun even tighter. The boat swam farther and farther, and the rat swam after it ...
Water rat. Keep it? Hold on! He did not pay the toll, did not show his passport!
Narrator. The poor soldier still held on just as steadfastly, without even batting an eyelid. And suddenly the boat spun, then heeled over, immediately filled with water and began to sink. The tin soldier was already up to his neck in water, and the boat became more and more soaked and sank deeper and deeper, now the water covered the soldier with his head. He thought of the lovely little dancer he was never to see again, and a song rang in his ears:
Forward, warrior!
Go to death.
The paper got completely wet, broke through, and the soldier was already sinking, but at that moment he was swallowed by a big fish.
Teacher. Masha's rat turned out to be very funny. The comic effect was enhanced by the convergence of the words of the heroic song and the angry cries of the rat. This time we limited ourselves to one episode... Shall we continue?
- Necessarily.
Teacher. In the meantime, let's go back to the fairy tale and remember how Andersen ends the story about the steadfast tin soldier.
- The soldier was again in the kitchen, where the fire burned brightly in the stove.
And so began his final test.
Teacher. When the boy suddenly threw the soldier into the burning furnace, he stood surrounded by a bright flame. What did he feel?
- -That everything burns, but what burns it - flame or love, he himself did not know.
- When the colors faded on him, whether it was from grief that he would never see the little dancer very soon, or whether they came off during the journey - he did not know either.
- But he still stood straight, with a gun on his shoulder and did not take his eyes off the little dancer.
They couldn't take their eyes off each other.
Teacher. Why do you think the tin soldier became Andersen's personification of perseverance?
- Because the toy tin soldiers are very stable when you play with them.
- This toy is quite small, but resistant.
- The word "persistent" can be understood in different ways.
- It is used in a fairy tale differently.
- The word, "persistent" comes to the military.
Teacher. What happened next?
- The draft picked up the dancer, because she was made of paper, she fluttered into the stove and burned down. To not be separated.
- Flashed a bright flame - and she was gone.
- And the tin soldier was gone, he melted.
Teacher. But why does the fairy tale have such a sad end?
- No, the end did not seem so sad to me, because we know that a tin heart was left from the soldier.
- When in the morning the maid was raking out the ashes from the stove, she found not a piece of tin, but a tin heart.
- And the sparkle remained from the dancer, but she no longer sparkled, but turned black.
- Despite everything, they ended up together, so love won.
- You can throw a tin soldier into the fire, but nothing can destroy true love.
Teacher. Why did the boy throw the soldier into the oven?
- He was small. Didn't understand what he was doing.
- But we saw that not only when the soldier was drowning, but also when he stood in the fire, he was steadfast: he stood straight, clutching a gun in his hand.
- If the boy had not thrown the tin soldier into the fire, no one would have found the tin heart. We wouldn't have anything to remember.
- If the tin soldier drowned or simply got lost, then they would immediately forget about him.
- We would buy new soldiers.
Teacher. Or maybe it would be better for the author to save them?
- But that would be a different story.
... The fire is still burning in the stove. Haven't you heard Andersen's Muse say to the children: “Look at the heroes of the fairy tale. Draw them. Turn them into heroes puppet show. Then you continue their life!
We managed to hear it.

Great storyteller
... What pushed Andersen into the realm of fairy tales?
He himself said that it is easiest to write fairy tales, being alone with nature, “listening to her voice”, especially at a time when he was relaxing in the forests of Zealand.
… But we know that Andersen wrote many of his fairy tales in the middle of winter, at the height of children's Christmas holidays, and giving them an elegant and simple form.
... Andersen considered his life beautiful, but, of course, only because of his childlike cheerfulness. This gentleness towards life is usually a sure sign of inner wealth. People like Andersen have no desire to waste time and energy on fighting everyday failures, when poetry sparkles so clearly around - and you need to live only in it, live only in it and not miss the moment when spring touches the trees with its lips ...
He wrote quickly because he had the gift of improvisation. Andersen was the purest example of an improviser. Countless thoughts and images swarmed through him as he worked. One had to hurry to write them down before they slipped from memory, went out and disappeared from sight. It was necessary to have extraordinary vigilance in order to catch on the fly and fix those pictures that flared up and instantly went out, like a branched pattern of lightning in a stormy sky.
… I do not list here everything that Andersen wrote. It is hardly necessary. I only wanted to sketch a cursory image of this poet and storyteller, this charming eccentric who remained an open-hearted child until his death, this inspired improviser and catcher of human souls - both children's and adults.
(K. Paustovsky. From introductory article to the book
H.-K. Andersen "Tales and Stories")

Did you have a favorite fairy tale as a child?
(from the answers of the eleventh graders)
- As a child, I loved fairy tales for their kindness. But my favorite fairy tale is “About Tsar Saltan”. It has a hidden meaning. When my mother read it to me, and then I read it myself, she simply fascinated me, captured me. I remember with joy the most beautiful time in my life - my childhood.
- I don't remember a single fairy tale, but I remember the illustrations.
- As a child, I was read a lot of fairy tales. Most of all I liked fairy tales with a happy ending. Fairy tales that ended sadly, I remade. I always wanted to be little like Dunno, I wanted to fly and live on the roof with the cheerful Carlson, I envied Pippi, where she lived alone in the house. I will always be friends with these heroes and carry them through my whole life.
- To be honest, I don’t remember the name of my favorite fairy tale, but it certainly was. I only remember a big book with many beautiful pictures. My mother used to read fairy tales from it, but once I learned to read, I returned to it many times. And even now I sometimes want to look there. I don't know why, just like that.
- Fairy tales teach us love, compassion, kindness, self-sacrifice. In an atmosphere of magic and celebration, they teach children about life.
- When I was little, my mother often read fairy tales to me ... I loved listening to them. The nobility of the soul, the ability to self-sacrifice - this is what fairy tales teach us. With bated breath, I heard about the Beautiful Princess, the good wizard, the seven dwarfs and the good Cinderella.
- I believe that a fairy tale gives rise to bright dreams and develops the imagination and soul.
My parents used to read a lot of fairy tales to me. And the whole world seemed like a fairy tale, I perceived everything like a fairy tale. And it is not strange that sometimes I imagined myself as Malvina or Little Red Riding Hood. … Gradually, the feeling of life as a fairy tale dissipated and went into the soul, growing into dreams.
- As a child, my favorite fairy tale was Cinderella, and it was somehow special, melodic and romantic, and it ended very well.
- "Three piglets". Without fairy tales, there will be no such love for one's neighbor, no responsibility for them. There should always be something good in life, even when it's written.
- Of course it was. There were many. At first my mother read them to me, then I re-read many of them myself. Fairy tales are like the first textbooks of life.
- I was brought up from early childhood on poetry. Fairy tales came into my life a little later... This spiritual "food" largely determines how a person's fate will turn out.