What is this mother's care?

Text 8.1

(1) Tolya doesn’t like autumn. (2) Not loving for those that the leaves were falling and “the sun was shining,” but most of all for those that the springs often passed before and his mother did not let him go outside.

(3) If such an early morning had come, when all the days were in the winding water paths, and the rain was clogging and clogging in the rivers... (4) Alas, mother did not let Tolya go home, but

Tvir-merkuvannya on ODE (Behind text 8.2.)

Maternal love is the boundless love of mother to child: she gives her tenderness, kindness, and affection. Mother always understands it, supports the twisted side of her head, never hurts. Wine is the support of all life.

I respect that a mother’s love is what the whole world revolves around. Without it, we ourselves would not exist, people would become angry, unfriendly, and self-centered. If a person does something bad to his mother, then he will realize that he has done something bad, and we will reproach ourselves. You can’t say rude things to her, belittle her, portray her...

The first argument to support my thoughts could be the text of M. Ageev. Marvel at how filthy a boy is before his mother. Through those who came to the mother in a greedy garb, they will marry her, it seems rude: “We don’t care about the tenderness of a calf, but if she brought in pennies, then don’t let her pay.” (5-7) Having told her comrades, what is it? not your dear mother, but a toothy governess (13-14). No matter the humiliation, the image, the coldness of a son, a mother loves her child.

As another argument that confirms the thesis, I will take the example from everyday evidence. I think I read a legend about two mounds. I was most impressed by the placement of my son before my mother. In my squad, I didn’t love my mother. If the girl asked the hero to bring his heart to his mother, then he would kill her, or carry her heart in his hand, without losing it, crying and swearing about the greedy money. And the mother’s love, which gives goodness to her son, created a miracle: “the heart came to life, the openings of her breasts closed, the mother stood up and pressed her son’s curly head to her breasts.” What struck me most about this legend was the endless maternal care: after everything that she had earned, she killed him.

In this manner, I realized that the mother’s care is a great power that can create, create, breathe. She is made to work miracles, to revive life, to cure dangerous illnesses...

(1) It’s like the beginning of the harvest, early in the morning, on my way to the gymnasium, I forgot about the evening of preparations with my mother’s envelope of pennies. (2) They were required to pay for the work to the first deputy. (3) Since a great change has begun, since all of us have been slain from the cold, or dry, and

Tvir-merkuvannya on ODE (Behind text 8.3.)

“What is this mother’s shit?” - Power up the vi. In my opinion, a mother’s love is boundless, strong, and all-possible: the love of a mother for her child. She will help you again, she will tell you about him, her son and daughter will listen to him with understanding, she will support him in his endeavors. For every child, mother is the support of all life.

I respect, mother's mother - here we have a turbot about our children. If the mother would like to share everything, give the remaining crunch of bread to the hungry child. Let's illustrate the point with examples from the text of Yu.Ya. Yakovleva has a special life.

First of all, having become an adult, the mother will guess that the baby was standing white as a window, and what a lot of understanding…. I understand that in the “suvor day”, if there was nothing to eat, the mother tried to protect him, giving the rest of what was in her. I understand that “there is nothing cruel, no need to ask the mother for bread, if there is none in her” (32), because the mother suffers subordinately. I understand that I never feel “I forgive” in my “vibach!” (39-40). I understand how strong is my mother’s care!

In a different way, I want to point the finger at a living truth: I think that when I was nine years old, I fell ill with a cough, I had a severe cough and a high temperature. My mother bathed my eyes and all sorts of syrups so that I would get better sooner. She cooked my food and brought it to me, she encouraged me. I did everything I could to make me feel better. Zavdyaki mother's kohanna and turboti I quickly cooled down.

In this way, we were brought to the conclusion that the mother’s farm is the most important thing in the life of a child, small, and grown up. It is as if this farm would not have existed, without further disturbing the human population, our life would not have had that support that helps us live.

Materials for preparation before writing work 15.3

“What kind of motherly shit is that?”

Wiklad text

The word mom is a special word. It is popular with us at the same time, accompanies us at the age of maturity and maturity. Yogo belkoche child in kolisstі. The young man and the profound old man see with love. Any people have their word. And in all words, you want to sound gentle and affectionate.

Our mother’s place is special in our life, Vinyatkov. We will no longer be able to bear our joy and understandably. The mother's farm gives inspiration, gives strength, inspires heroism. In the folding furnishings of life, we always remember our mother. And we only need this much. People call their mother and believe that she, no matter what, smells her, hears her and rushes to help. The word mother becomes equivalent to the word life.

How many artists, composers, and poets have created miracles about mother! Take care of mothers! – Rasul Gamzatov sings at his side. It’s a pity, we sadly understand that we forgot to say a lot of good things to our mother. Whatever happens, it is necessary to give them joy in this day and age. Even children's children best gift for them.

Text 8.1(From the account of A. G. Aleksin “The First Day”)

(1) Tolya doesn’t like autumn. (2) Not loving for those that the leaves were falling and “the sun was shining,” but most of all for those that the springs often passed before and his mother did not let him go outside.

(3) It was so early in the morning that all the windows were in the winding water paths, and the boards were clogging and clogging in the rivers... (4) Alas, mother did not let Tolya go home, but she hurried. (5) And Tolya realized that now he is even greater: he also went to work no matter the weather!

(6) Mom wore a parasol and a white cloak from her shawl, which Tolya secretly wore instead of a robe when they played doctors with the boys.

- (7) Ti kudi? - Tolya was amazed.

- (8) I’ll show you off.

- (9) Should I... see you off? (10) What?

(11) Mom died and put the prepared speech back at the chef.

(12) Tolya really had to run to school under the plank. (13) Once he turned around and shouted from the other side of the street to his mother. (14) There were a lot of raincoats and parasols on the street, but I immediately recognized my mother. (15) And there, noticing that Tolya had turned around, grabbed the horn of the old double-top booth.

(16) “Hovat!” – Tolya thought angrily. (17) I ran away sooner rather than later, so that my mother wouldn’t think of harassing him.

(18) When I turned around the school itself again, my mother was no longer there.

(19) “I turned around,” Vin thought relieved.

(20) At the locality, the Leninists were in classrooms. (21) The young reader quickly threw off her hair from her wet veil and shouted:

- (22) First “B”! (23) First “B”!

(24) Tolya knew that the first “B” is the first one. (25) The teacher led the lads on the fourth floor.

(26) Even at home, Tolya realized that he would never sit at a desk with a girl. (27) Ale the reader, mute zhartom, fed yogo:

- (28) You, melodiously, want to sit with Chernova, right?

(29) And it turned out that neither wine nor justice will ever sit in charge of Chernova.

(30) The reader opened the magazine and began the roll call. (31) After the roll call she said:

- (32) Orlov, cover up, be kind, vikno.

(33) I immediately huddled and walked to the window, but it was not easy for me to reach the handle. (34) He sat up and started rapt on his back: outside the window, he reluctantly asked his mother. (35) She stood there, holding the folded parasol in her hands, without dying respect for the boards that had flowed from her cloak, and kept her eyes wandering around the school windows: mother, perhaps, wanted to guess in which class Tolya should sit.

(36) And here he did not dare to get angry. (37) Anyway, I wanted to lean over, wave to my mother and shout loudly, so as not to drown out the floor:

- (38) Don’t boast! (39) Don’t boast, matusya... (40) All is well! (41) If you couldn’t shout, there’s no need to shout in class. (Behind A. Aleksin) *

* Oleksin Anatoly Georgiyovich (b. 1924) – writer, playwright. His works, such as “My brother plays the clarinet”, “Dying persons and viconavs”, “Third in the fifth row” and others, convey the main message about the world of youth.

Text 8.2(From “A Novel with Cocaine” by M. Ageev)

(1) It’s like the beginning of the harvest, early in the morning, on my way to the gymnasium, I forgot about the evening of preparations with my mother’s envelope of pennies. (2) They were required to pay for the work to the first deputy.

(3) When the great change began, when all of us were released from the cold, dry and drowsy weather at the door and on the lower Maidan, I got off the mat, only then did I remember about the envelope and realize that there might not be endured and brought yoga sama.

(4) Mother, prote, stood aside by her skinny fur coat, in a funny bonnet, under such hanging hair, and with noticeable flourishes, as if she was even more emphatic about her pitiful appearance, sadly marveled at the horde of schoolchildren who looked back at her, laughing And now they were talking one to another.

(5) Approaching, I hesitated and wanted to rush past unnoticed, but my mother, having immediately lit up with an affectionate smile, waved her hand, and I, even though I was even embarrassed in front of the comrades who had come before her.

“(6) Vadichka, lad,” she spoke dully to the old woman, stretching out an envelope from the leftovers at home and fearfully with her little hand, she was baking, sticking to the tail of my overcoat, “you forgot the pennies, and I think - she’s angry, so she brought it.”

(7) Having said this, she marveled at me, she didn’t ask for mercy, but, fiercely for killing me, I countered the hated whispers that the tenderness of the calf is beyond our control, and even if she brought me pennies, then don’t let me pay you. .

(8) Mother stood quietly, listening to the little girls, who lowered her tender old eyes with wine and bitterness. (9) I walked out of the exits and, very tightly, noisily wet the doors, looking around and marveling at the mat. (10) But I didn’t worry about it all, because I felt so much harm, but because I was afraid that I would cry in such an unlikely place.

(11) Mati just stood on the Maidan and, bowing her head in confusion, marveled at me. (12) Noticing that I was amazed at her, she waved my hand with the envelope as if she were walking at the station, and this woman is so young and bad, showing even more how old she is, ragged and pitiful.

(13) At the check-in, a number of friends came up to me and one of them asked what kind of peas were in my back’s room, which I tenderly exchanged. (14) I, laughing merrily, believe that this is a toothy governess and that she came to me with written recommendations.

(15) Once, having paid the pennies, my mother came out and, not caring for anyone, hunched over, wearing even less weight, her feet clicking, her very crooked heels, walked along the asphalt path to the slimy gate, I felt that there was pain in me for no heart.

(16) Damn it, because it burned me so hotly in the first place, it was painful, however, too bad.

(For M. Agevim) *

* Mikhailo Ageev (Mark Lazarevich Levi) (1898-1973) - Russian writer.

Text 8.3

(1) No one, like a mother, can embrace her suffering and torment so deeply. (2) And no one, like children, can so cold-bloodedly ignore what is with their mother. (3) Don’t be mean, it’s good for her.

(4) I never shed my mother’s tears. (5) Every time in my presence their eyes didn’t become evil, every time they didn’t scare me in life, more. (6) I didn’t know what kind of mercy she gave me.

(7) In childhood, we easily accept the victim as the mother, we constantly perceive victims. (8) And those who are cruel are recognized later - from their children.

(9) “Golden days” are not eternal, they are replaced by “heavy days” when we begin to feel independent and gradually move away from our mothers. (10) And the axis is no longer without a beautiful lady and a small face, and as it is, then in a new beautiful lady - with pussy, with lusciously pouting lips, with a spot on the cloth...

(11) One of the “heavy days” I came home from school hungry and tired. (12) Spurring the briefcase. (13) Divided. (14) 1 round per table. (15) There is a rye-colored circle of kowbassi on the plate. (16) I call yogo mittevo. (17) Vіn having separated from the company. (18) Nothing happened. (19) I said:

- (20) Not enough. (21) I want more.

(22) Mom said nothing. (23) I repeated my curse. (24) She walked up to the window and, without looking back, said quietly:

- (25) There is no more ... cowbasi.

(26) I got up from the table without saying “duck.” (27) Not enough! (28) I walked noisily around the room, chattering in circles, and my mother still stood white-faced. (29) I thought about what she might be looking at, and now it’s time to go to the window. (30) Ale did not improve anything. (31) I slammed the door - it’s not enough! - ta pishov.

(32) There is nothing gluttonous, so don’t ask your mother for bread if there is none in her. (33) I won’t take it anywhere. (34) And she already gave you her stuff... (35) Then you can get angry and slam the door. (36) If the fates pass, you will be spoiled. (37) And you will become sicker because of your cruel injustice.

(38) You think about the day of your death after the death of your mother, and this thought is like a wound that will burn, whether it will subside or disappear. (39) You are under her important authority and, looking around, you will say: “Probach!” (40) No line.

(41) There is no one to whisper the merciful word “I forgive.”

(42) When mom stood white, her shoulders shook slightly with silent tears. (43) I didn’t notice Alec. (44) I didn’t notice my dark kitten traces on the underside and didn’t feel the rattling doors.

(45) Now I can see and smell everything. (46) The hour keeps getting further away, except that it brings us closer to this day, and many other days. (47) I have accumulated a lot of words. (48) The stench bursts through my chest, knocking on my screen. (49) The stench bursts forth, light, onto the paper.

(50) Vibach me, dear! (For Yu.Ya. Yakovlev) *

Text 8.4(According to E. A. Permyak “Mom and Me”)

(1) We sweated at school, and when we went out into the street, we were already pimping. (2) Snow piled up to half the felt. (3) I am worried, knowing how cruel our steppe Siberian villages are, and what kind of stink they can bring.

(4) And suddenly those things that I feared began. (5) The snowflakes twirled in raptures in such a dance that for a few pine trees a storm began, which suddenly turned into a great snowstorm. (6) The narrow path that led to our village once fell asleep with snow, and then disappeared completely. (7) Otherwise, it was even more unkind.

(8) I was angry and didn’t know what to do next. (9) The wind of whistles sounded in every way. (10) And rapping in the wind, I felt my mother’s calm voice: “Don’t be afraid, you need to bury yourself in the snow.” (11) I felt my mother’s voice so clearly, knowing well that with my mother’s voice I speak to myself in my life...

(12) We dug up a stove and sat all night, talking to each other different stories. (13) And the French, having broken through the door to freedom, destroyed us home.

(14) Having opened the doors, I rushed to my mother. (15) Having rushed and - what happened, they started - crying.

- (16) That about what? (17) “Get over to the table quickly,” said the mother, having eaten nothing last night.

(18) Father arrived. (19) He praised me and promised me to buy a small towel. (20) You marveled at my resourcefulness. (21) And mother?.. (22) Mother said: “I clap the thirteenth river, and it would be wonderful if I had ruined myself in the Khurtovina without lying to myself and my comrades.”

(23) We lost two of our evenings with our grandmother. (24) Mati went to the station to see the paramedic. (25) She said that she was burned and had a headache. (26) It has always been easy and simple for me with my grandmother. (27) I asked her: “Granny, would you like to tell me the truth: why didn’t my mother punish me? (28) Am I really so unvarnished?

- (29) You fool, no one else! - Grandma said. - (30) Mother didn’t sleep all night, roared like God, she joked with the dog in the steppe, her knee was frostbitten... (31) Just marvel at her, about the price of nothing!

(32) Mother turned to Nezabar. (33) Vona told her grandmother: “The paramedic gave powder to the head. (34) It seems, nisenitnitsa, I’ll pass soon.”

(35) I rushed to my mother and hugged her legs. (36) As soon as I was here, I noticed that her knees were bandaged. (37) Ale navit without showing it. (38) I have never been so affectionate with her. (39) I have never loved my mother so much. (40) Shedding tears, kissing their chapped hands. (41) And she patted me on the head and went to lie down. (42) Perhaps it was important for her to stand.

(43) This is how our beloved and noble mother raised and nurtured us. (44) Far away she marveled. (45) And nothing bad came of it. (46) My brother is now a two-way Hero. (47) I could have said something about myself, but the mother was severely punished as soon as possible. (For E.A. Perm'yak) *

* Permbefore Yevgen Andriyovich (real nickname - Vissov) (1902-1982) - Russian Radyansky writer.

Text 8.5(From the article by I. Seliverstova “About Mom”)

(1) All mothers are different: young, beautiful, happy and tired, kind and good. (2) Until our very old age, the stench will be lost to us by these very mothers. (3) Even mature people, just like children, need their mother’s pleasure. (4) Only mother, no matter what, encourages you in any kind of good endeavors, and sometimes to help you out of a bad idea, to forgive you, be it a mercy or bad luck, or, to put it bluntly, that is unreasonable. (5) Just be quiet, wave away the furtive tears from your dull eyes and ... forgive you.

(6) Even the heart of the mother is bottomless. (7) Even the mother’s heart will teach you everything in the world. (8) I immediately realized the story of Dmitry Kedrin about those who, like sons, snatched away his mother’s heart and carried him with a cruel cow. (9) It was not an easy walk, on the slimy side you stumbled and fell. (10) And at that moment I felt like my heart was filled with: “Aren’t you going to beat yourself up, son?” (11) Mom beat up my son’s anger and his gluttony, so he couldn’t do it any other way...

(12) And your mother’s hands... (13) You have wondered, every now and then, how much it is to pain your mother’s hands for you, how laborious the stench is, how restless – kind, gentle, strong and energetic mother’s hands are. (14) The first stench is what we experienced in life when we came to this new, unknown and wondrous world. (15) The stench pressed us to our chests, engulfing us in the face of sorrow and anxiety. (16) Before your mother touches your hair, she ruffles it playfully, and all the inconveniences and annoyances go away, otherwise your mother would have brought them to you with her maternal hand. (17) The most valuable treasure, the greatest value in our life is the hands of our mother! (18) We took in all the pain and cold, all the wounds and blows of life, all the hardships and misfortunes - all those that protect us from harm and allow us to be happy.

(19) Unfortunately, we rarely think about how much time and strength, how much health, how much affection and effort our mother expends on us. (20) It’s common that, having left home, we forget to call the phone, write a couple of lines, sign a leaflet before the saint. (21) And mom is waiting! (22) And know what kind of justification we have for our callousness, our busyness, our lack of importance.

(23) It’s a pity that they forgot to say so much good wishes to your mothers. (24) Whatever happens, it is necessary to give warmth to mothers every day, and even children are the greatest gift for them.

(25) How many times have we not talked about our mother, who will not be enough. (26) Every mother painlessly earns everything for her child. (27) We are worried about your lot, regardless of how many fates you have suffered. who became a little human being with her. (29) Mom will give everything for you to become a good person.

(For I. Seliverstova) *

* Seliverstova Inna – daily writing and poetry.

http://www.proza.ru/2007/09/17/161

Text 8.6(According to Yu. Ya. Yakovlev’s “Heart of the Earth”)

(1) Most people don’t know what the earth smells like, how it’s dying, how it’s suffering from sprague, - the earth is covered with lava asphalt before your eyes.

(2) My mother brought me to the ground, just as a bird brings its bird to the sky. (3) After all, the earth opened up to me in the war. (4) I recognized the power of the earth: under a strong fire, I pressed against it with the hope that death would pass me. (5) This was the land of my mother, the native land, and she saved me with maternal fidelity.

(6) Once, just once, the earth did not save me...

(7) I’m tired of the cart, in the saddle. (8) I couldn’t feel the pain, I was tormented by inhuman sprague. (9) The lips, head, and breasts wanted to drink. (10) Everything that was alive in me wanted to drink. (11) Tse bula sprague palayuchy budinku. (12) I am burning with sprague.

(13) I suddenly thought, “The only person who can lie to me is my mother.” (14) I suddenly felt like a child: if it’s bad, I’ll tell my mother to do it. (15) There’s a sprague, there’s pain, calm down, it’s screaming. (16) I started clicking.

(17) Vez gurkotil, drowning out my voice. (18) Zhaga sealed her lips. (19) And with the remaining strength of whispers, the unforgettable word “matusya”. (20) I clicked її. (21) I knew that he would come and come. (22) І won vinikla. (23) And immediately the humming sound of the gurket, and the cold life of the vologa rushed to extinguish the burning: it flowed over the lips, along the chin, behind the chest. (24) Mom carefully supported my head, fearing pain. (25) She scared me out of a cold ladle, brought death before me.

(26) I saw the familiar hand, sensing a familiar voice:

- (27) Sinok, sinku, rednenky...

(28) I could not flatten my eyes. (29) Ale ya bachiv matir. (30) I recognized her hand, her voice. (31) I am alive because of her mercy. (32) My lips parted, and I whispered:

- (33) Mom, matusya...

(34) My mother died in besieged Leningrad. (35) I sat down near an unknown well, mistaking someone else’s mat for my own. (36) Perhaps all mothers have a great similarity, and just as one mother cannot come to the wounded son, then each corner has another.

(37) Mom. (38) Mommy.

(39) I know a lot about the exploits of women, who carried wounded soldiers from the battlefield, who labored for men, who gave their blood to children, who followed the Siberian tracts for their men. (40) I never thought that my mother was undoubtedly worried about everything. (41) Now I look back at her life and see: she’s gone through everything. (42) I’m learning about all the delays. (43) Ale bachu.

(44) On Piskaryvsky District, filled with people’s grief, the grass is green. (45) My mother is buried here, like so many other victims of the blockade. (46) There are no documents. (47) There are no eyewitnesses. (48) There is nothing. (49) Ale is forever blue love. (50) And I know that my mother’s heart became the heart of the earth. (For Yu.Ya. Yakovlev) *

* Yakovlev Yuriy Yakovich (1923–1996) – writer and screenwriter, author of books for children and youth.

Text 8.7(Review of V.V. Chaplina “Wolverine”)

(1) One early spring a wolverine was brought to the zoo. (2) Vona Bula is similar to a majestic marten: dark brown, covered with long, hard hair. (3) At first glance, the zookeepers realized from the behavior of the wolverine that it would soon give birth to babies and she was looking for a place to lie.

(4) A wooden booth was placed near the cage. (5) However, the wolverine did not get the budino. (6) After much searching, she ruled the world under the little alarm clock: she saw a small shadow, fluttered her fur, and within a few days the squeak of newlyweds was felt.

(7) With the appearance of the little cubs, the wolverine stopped struggling and rushing to freedom. (8) And as soon as troubles threatened her children, she grumbled in a special way, and the children, sometimes on command, clapped around under the little booth. (9) The wolverine sang especially when the stench approached the courtyard, in which two evil wolves were sitting. (10) The gray huts have been lapping at their babies for a long time. (11) As they approached the river, the wolves barked angrily, their fur stood up, the stinks grabbed the mesh with their teeth and squeezed with force, trying to scoop up the wolverines.

(12) On the day of the fork, the servant came out. (13) Then at night they didn’t respect anyone. (14) The first axis once, when the cows, as before, crushed the mesh, it did not withstand the pressure, it broke apart, two gray huts crawled into the cage until the wolverine.

(15) Having realized that the children were in danger of trouble, the mother bravely rushed to their defense. (16) She was much weaker than two children and, as if she had quite a few children, she would already try to sing melodiously. (17) How could a mother wolverine sing and deprive her of her cubs?

(18) Vaughn fiercely threw at one wolf, then another, dodged away from their bites, threw again, not allowing them to reach the children.

(19) Several times the wolves tried to sneak up to them under the little booth, and immediately the wolverine came up to them.

(20) Already at the fight, he threw over the wooden booth. (21) Two little falcon wolverines lost their cover. (22) The greedy species of the wolf was already ready to bury them, but the mother was forced to close the babies with herself. (23) She lay down with her whole body on the little ones, and, no matter where the wolves would touch them, immediately turned around and brushed against them with her furry claws.

(24) Covering itself with its cubs, the wolverine could no longer escape the bites of the wolves and still found the strength to repel their attacks.

(25) It is unknown how this uneasy beat ended, as if the watchman did not come to the noise. (26) Quickly lift the cage and drive the weeds into place. (27) Then carefully close the opening and go up to the wolverine. (28) She has become so weak that she doesn’t have enough strength to get up. (29) And yet, if the watchman wanted to wonder what the purpose of the little ones was, she showed her teeth and, as before, was ready to protect them.

(30) Having decided that the little ones were unskilled, the watchman walked, and the wolverine forcibly gave in and began to gently lick the hardened fur of his cubs. (Behind V. Chaplina) *

* Chaplina (Mikhailova) Vira Vasylivna (1908–1994) – a child’s writer of letters.

Text 8.8(Review of V. P. Astafiev “Kapalukha”)

(1) A herd of calves and whips was pulled onto an old glade littered with trees. (2) The whips and calves, the same, weighed heavily and exhaustedly, forcibly moved through the gnarled khmyz.

(3) In one place, a small hump was seen in the clearing, tightly covered with a pale-leaved, flowering blackberry. (4) The green, powdery blackberry berries released traces of sulfur bilinki-pelyas, and the stinks seemed to crumble indiscriminately. (5) Then the berry will thicken, turn purple, then turn blue and turn black with a bluish tinge.

(6) There was a noise at the blackberry hump. (7) I hurried up to the hump and shook, as the capercaillie runs in circles with its wings spread out (they think they call it a capulina).

- (8) Nest! (9) Nest! - the boys shouted.

(10) I began to look around on all sides, soaking my eyes on the blackberry mound, without touching any nest.

- (11) Same axis, axis! - the children pointed to the green cramps, even though I was standing.

(12) I looked, and my heart began to beat like a stag: I had just stepped on a nest. (13) No, that’s not on the hump, but in the middle of the grass, under the spring roots that were visible from the ground. (14) It was covered with moss from all sides and covered with wild hair, this inconspicuous hut lay open at the back of the blackberry hump. (15) The Hatzi's nest is insulated with moss. (16) The nest has several pockmarked light brown eggs. (17) Eggs are smaller than chicken eggs. (18) I poked one egg with my finger - it was warmer there, and even hotter.

- (19) Let's take it! - Having seen the boy standing in charge of me.

- (20) What's next?

- (21) Yes!

- (22) What will happen to the capulukha? (23) Marvel at her!

(24) Kapalukha rushed around. (25) The wings are still scattered in it, and the earth is covered with them. (26) She sat on the nest with her wings spread, shielding her upcoming children, keeping them warm. (27) That’s why the bird’s wing became ossified because of the frailty of the bird. (28) She was so tired she couldn’t fly. (29) A yalinka flew down onto the neck and fell over our heads. (30) And here we were told that she lives naked right up to the neck and the skin often rubs thickly on her bare, plump breasts. (31) The bird’s heart beat with the flapping, anger and fearlessness.

- (32) And she plucked the fluff herself and burned the eggs with her bare belly, so that a drop of her warmth from the skin would give to the birds that would be born, - the teacher said, “Pidiyshov.”

- (33) Tse yak is our mother. (34) She gives us everything. (35) That’s it, a speck of skin... - summarily, in a grown-up way, he said one of the boys and, perhaps, getting dirty with these bottom words, which he had noticed earlier in life, shouting: “Come on, let’s go and kill the herd!”

(36) And everyone ran happily towards the droplet’s nest. (37) The kapalukha was sitting on a branch that pulled at our necks. (38) Their eyes no longer followed us. (39) The stinks were aimed at the nest, and as soon as the little ones came out, it smoothly flew out of the tree, flew into the nest, spread its wings and froze.

(40) Her eyes began to become heavy with drowsiness, but she was all on guard, all tense. (41) The heart of the cape was beating with strong beats, seemingly warm and living like large eggs, from which in a week or two, and maybe in a few days, tadpole capercaillies would appear.

(42) And if the stench grows, if the bright dawn of the blossoms misses its first song in the great and good taiga, perhaps this song will have words, unfathomable to us, the bird’s words about the mother, who gives everything to the children, Somehow you can start your life. (For V.P. Astaf'ev) *

* Astaf'ev Viktor Petrovich (1924-2001) - prominent Russian prose writer.

Motherly love is the most important form of love, the strongest, the most consistent and the most graceless. The mother's love is all-forgiving, she doesn't bother about anything and doesn't expect anything. The mother's farm is respected with a glaring look love and the most sacred thing from all emotional ties.

After the earthquake in Japan, when the ritualists left the ruins of a young woman’s home, the stench seeped into her body through the cracks. Her pose was even more wondrous: she sank to her knees, like a person about to pray, her body was slumped forward, and her hands were being spat on. The little box that collapsed, hurting her back and head.

The leader of the army team forced his hand through a narrow gap in the wall to the woman’s body. She was convinced that she was still alive, but her body was colder. Together with the rest of the team, we left this booth to watch for the coming wake-up call. However, an inexorable force called him to the dead woman’s wake. Again, I lowered myself to the ground, sticking my head through the narrow gaps to trace the place under her body. Raptom shouted out in praise: “Child! There’s a baby here!”

The whole team diligently tidied up the purchases around the lost area. Beneath her lay a three-month-old boy, sunbathed next to the carpet. Obviously, when the house collapsed, the woman covered the son with her body. The little boy was still sleeping peacefully when the team took him into his arms. The doctor arrived quickly to bandage the child. Having ignited the carpet, old phone. There was a text message on the screen: “As you see, remember that I love you.”

This mobile phone passes from hand to hand. Kozhen, who, after reading the message, cried. “As you see it, remember that I love you.” Such a mother's bastard!

Aphorisms

The mother's farm is one farm, and it is impossible to keep track of any of them. V.G. Belinsky

There is nothing holy or worthless for a mother’s love; every kind of whim, be it love, be it addiction, either weak or selfish in its rivalry with it. V.G. Belinsky

Everything is beautiful in a person - from the exchange of sun and from the Mother's milk. Maksim Gorky

Let us glorify the woman-Mother, whose love knows no bounds, whose breasts benefit the whole world! Maksim Gorky

I have a lot of wives to think about giving birth to a child and becoming a mother - the same one. With this very success one could say that you yourself are a piano player and a pianist. S. Harris

The hand that hits the wheel rules the world. Peter de Vries

Mother - the only deity of the earth, does not know atheists. E. Legouwe

A mother's heart is an incredible source of miracles. Pierre Jean Beranger

The heart of a mother is abyss, in the depths of which there will always be forgiveness. O. de Balzac

We love our mothers, but we don’t even think about it, and we don’t know all the depths of this mess until we part again. Guy de Maupassant

Mother is the most destructive thing on earth. Mati tse means: to forgive and sacrifice oneself. Eric Maria Remarque

Poetry

Mikola Nekrasov

Let's listen to the fears of war,

For the skin of new battle victims

I am not a friend, not a friend,

Meni Skoda is not the hero himself.

What a pity! get comfortable, squad,

I friend best friend forget;

But here there is only one soul -

Stop worrying about remembering!

In the midst of our hypocritical claims

And all vulgarity and prose

I'm the only one in the world who peeks

Holy, broad tears

Those are the tears of poor mothers!

Don't forget your children.

Mikola Nekrasov

We feel what children call their mothers,

Distant, but still trying to reach the children.

Great! Yogo until the end

We save alive in our souls,

We love our sister, our squad, and our father,

Ale in torment mi matir is guessable!

It is a sign in nature, holy and prophetic,

Yaskravo meanings for centuries!

The most beautiful of women -

A woman with a child in her arms. Serhiy Ostrovy

What is the most sacred thing in our heart?

It’s unlikely that you need to think and cast spells

And the world has the simplest word

First thing - Mother! Eduard Asadov

Yevgen YevtushenkoPrayer to the mother

There are no icons in my mother’s room,

Don't hurt anyone,

Not too early,

Not before bed

Chi does not respect bowing.

Alas for the light of day prayer

Mi bachimo in her eyes,

Day and night.

Intercessor, give me a great soul,

Good heart,

Hands are gentle, gentle.

It’s really important!

Please don't take over

I'm not worth it for pennies

Breathe, pitying one, into my chest

So much love and strength,

To the grave

For the whole family -

For my man, for my son, for my daughter,

To all my doubts

I sum'yatya,

On stumbling and miracles,

On the swirl

I buried

For mercy

I cool.

It’s only the khanna that opens the heart,

Then a mountain appears in front of her.

I need a lot of food.

Ti - mother,

You understand me...

Yevgen Yevtushenko Go mother

Let the mother follow us,
Walk slowly, on your toes,
And we sleep peacefully, having had enough of it,
Do not remember this terrible time.

It’s impossible for mothers to go before us, -
We just imagine that immediately,
It stinks and smells wonderful.
Small crocuses on the feet of rocks.

Raptom, nervously scurrying into any river,
It means the noisy days of the people,
Alas, the joy is late
Neither theirs nor our souls are to be trusted.

Everything is moving away, everything is moving away.
To reach for them, waking up in sleep,
Alone hands hit the wind.
There's a lot of curses in the world!

We're late.
Having struck a terrible time.
We marvel at the hidden tears,
Yak in silent columns
Our mothers will go before us.

Mikola Rilenkov

I remember my mother's hands,
Although she is silent, she has long been silent in the world,
I have not known tender and kind hands,
How hard and calloused
I remember my mother's hands,
What did the tears rub against me,
The women brought me from the fields
That's it, it's spring in native land rich
I remember my mother's hands,
Suvoroy caresses rare mity.
I became the shortest and the strongest
Type of skin dot.
I remember my mother's hands,
Wide, short valleys.
Stinks - what a dip.
Reach them and drink,
And I don’t know what to do without clothes.
I remember my mother's hands,
I want the children to repeat:
“The labored hands of mothers,
Holy Father, there is nothing in the world for you!”

***
Rasul Gamzatov Mothers

We are in the house today,

I don’t feel pain in my heart

And on your knees

I shake my head.

Meni girko, mamo, sumno, mamo,

I am a scold of bad vanity,

I can’t live like this enough

You felt respect.

I'm spinning on a gala carousel,

Where I'm rushing, I'm screaming a rapt

Stisne heart: “Never

Am I starting to forget my mother?!”

Viktor Gin Don't imitate mothers

Don't imitate mothers
Don't look at the mothers.
Before parting there are white doors
Please say goodbye to them.
І go around the bend
Don't rush, don't rush,
And what does it cost,
Yak can wave more.
Mothers sleep in silence
In the quiet of nights, in the anxious silence.
For them we are always little ones,
It’s impossible to resist this.
So be kind,
Don’t bother them with your guard,
Don't imitate mothers
Don't look at the mothers.
The stench suffers from separation,
And we have a boundless dose
Without mother's kind hands
Like babies without wheelchairs.
Write leaves im swedish
And don’t mess up the tall ones.
Don't imitate mothers
Don't look at the mothers.

Viktor Korotaev

About the faith of our mothers,
The world still doesn’t know,
Holy, reverent faith in us,
Growing children.
Like light in a birch forest,
Do not spoil anything in the world:
Not a single one from the poor man,
Any evil skargi susidiv.
Already mothers - such a people - will die,
With a long glance we are staring:
“Don’t stop being afraid. Mine! -
And again I believe, believe, believe.
So believe the mother alone,
Vibrant and patient.
I – not loud – stinks
Do not respect this wonder.
And just darma rock
Their faith, trembling and tender,

Don't forget about us until now
Their hopes are true.

Yaroslav Smilyakov Mother

Good my mother. Kind, cordial.
Come to her - accomplishments and cali-
Share your luck, embrace the turmoil -
The kettle is hot, put dinner on,
Vislukhova, deprive her of overnight stay:
It’s okay for myself, but it’s okay for guests
Old lady. Adje bachila kraєvidi,
I knew deceive, blaspheme, portray.
It didn’t go well for her to keep it in reserve.
The windows went out. Likhtar repayments.
Until late in our room
The radiant light is glowing.
Tse won over the leaf
I didn’t forget, I didn’t indulge -
Write from all over the world:
Whom it spoils, whom it welcomes,
Who should be encouraged, and who should be corrected.
Human conscience. My mother.
How long to sit over there over the zoshit,
Throwing away your skein
(Dilna - early she’s at peace),
Their tired eyes don’t close
Neighbors and distant enemies
With your generous kindness.
I greeted everyone, kept company with everyone,
I went through everyone I knew.
Collect all the people at the table,
And show up yourself - good for you! - Zayvoy,
Sit by the corners and stare inconspicuously
Watch out for the holy saint.
I would be with you all the time,
I wish I could smooth out all your wrinkles.
Maybe later I’ll write the best
Well, realizing human power,
So, I wore it to my heart
I carry it to you in my heart.

Evgen Dolmatovsky In memory of my mother

My mother and I were not gentle,
Double - suvori and samotni,
Ale men today so need it
Finish it and throw it away.

And as life goes, it departs, arrives.
І clear day, і bad weather.
I don’t feel like that,
Like a climber I’m sour.

I'm trampling on other people's doors
I torment my friends with the words:
Drink your mothers,
Until then, the stink in the world is with you.

Aliyev phase Mati (lesson from eating)

Mother! Radna, kohana! Listen!
It is impossible to finish reading the page to the end.
Thank me, mom, for the bitter torment,
Vibach for tired black hands,
For those who took away your sleep,
For those that I was sick in childhood.
I take your hands with deep wrinkles,
I take your warm eyes into my lips.
And kitten - the rows of visions flow,
And word for word fell to the pen.
Injuries to the eternal sufferers
All mother's mind
He sends a message to people:
“My son is alive
everyone alive!”
No!
Don't forget these naive ones
And forever young blues,
How not to raise a weeping willow
Your tearful little tits.
No!
You are not poor grannies
Evil turmoil is fueled by tears,
It is in turmoil, having risen from ruin,
Mother is alive - Holy Rus'!

(1) It’s like the beginning of the harvest, early in the morning, on my way to the gymnasium, I forgot about the evening of preparations with my mother’s envelope of pennies. (2) They were required to pay for the work to the first deputy.

(3) When the great change began, when all of us were released from the cold, dry and drowsy weather at the door and on the lower Maidan, I got off the mat, only then did I remember about the envelope and realize that there might not be endured and brought yoga sama.

(4) Mother, prote, stood aside by her skinny fur coat, in a funny bonnet, under such hanging hair, and with noticeable flourishes, as if she was even more emphatic about her pitiful appearance, sadly marveled at the horde of schoolchildren who looked back at her, laughing And now they were talking one to another.

(5) Approaching, I hesitated and wanted to rush past unnoticed, but my mother, having immediately lit up with an affectionate smile, waved her hand, and I, even though I was even embarrassed in front of the comrades who had come before her.

“(6) Vadichka, lad,” she spoke dully to the old woman, stretching out an envelope from the leftovers at home and fearfully with her little hand, she was baking, sticking to the tail of my overcoat, “you forgot the pennies, and I think - she’s angry, so she brought it.”

(7) Having said this, she marveled at me, she didn’t ask for mercy, but, fiercely for killing me, I countered the hated whispers that the tenderness of the calf is beyond our control, and even if she brought me pennies, then don’t let me pay you. .

(8) Mother stood quietly, listening to the little girls, who lowered her tender old eyes with wine and bitterness. (9) I walked out of the exits and, very tightly, noisily wet the doors, looking around and marveling at the mat. (10) But I didn’t worry about it all, because I felt so much harm, but because I was afraid that I would cry in such an unlikely place.

(11) Mati just stood on the Maidan and, bowing her head in confusion, marveled at me. (12) Noticing that I was amazed at her, she waved my hand with the envelope as if she were walking at the station, and this woman is so young and bad, showing even more how old she is, ragged and pitiful.

(13) At the check-in, a number of friends came up to me and one of them asked what kind of peas were in my back’s room, which I tenderly exchanged.

(14) I, laughing merrily, believe that this is a toothy governess and that she came to me with written recommendations.

(15) Once, having paid the pennies, my mother came out and, not caring for anyone, hunched over, wearing even less weight, her feet clicking, her very crooked heels, walked along the asphalt path to the slimy gate, I felt that there was pain in me for no heart.

(16) Damn it, because it burned me so hotly in the first place, it was painful, however, too bad.

(For M. Agevim) *

* Mikhailo Ageev (Mark Lazarevich Levi) (1898-1973) - Russian writer.

Zavdannya

1. Write the truth, revealing the changes in the definition of the daily reality S. I. Lvova: “Punctuation marks have their own meaning written language. Like a skin note, a punctuation mark has its own place in the leaf system and has its own unique “character.” When arguing your argument, draw two examples from the text you read. You can write to the robot in a scientific or journalistic style, exploring the topic using linguistic material. You can print your tweet in the words of S.I. Lvovoy. A work written without relying on reading the text (after the text) is not evaluated.

2. Write tvir-merkuvannya. Explain how you understand the meaning of the final text: “When, having paid the pennies, the mother came out and, not looking at anyone, hunched over, getting tired even less, her feet tapping softly, with crooked heels, she walked along the asphalt path to the slips in yelling, I I realized that my heart was hurting. “Hey, who so ardently pressed my heart, he was, however, very unhappy.” Directly, indicate the numbers of the required propositions or quote. The consumption of the creation may become less than 70 liters. If the text is repeated or completely rewritten in the output text without any comments, then such work is assessed with zero points.

3. How do you understand the meaning of the phrase MOTHER'S KOHANNYA? Formulate and comment on the designation you have given. Write a novel on the topic “What is a mother’s care”, taking as the thesis you have chosen. When arguing your thesis, bring up 2 (two) examples of arguments that confirm your understanding: one example of an argument comes from the text you read, and the other from your everyday experience. The consumption of the creation may become less than 70 liters. If the text is repeated or completely rewritten in the output text without any comments, then such work is assessed with zero points.

Option 2

1. Listen to the text and write style wikilad. Please note that you are responsible for conveying the headache both to skin microthemes and to the entire text in general.

Obsyag vyklad – no less than 70 sliv.

Write your report in a neat, flowing handwriting.

Part 2

Read the text and vikonite zavdannya 2 - 15.

(1) It’s like the beginning of the harvest, early in the morning, on my way to the gymnasium, I forgot about the evening of preparations with my mother’s envelope of pennies. (2) They were required to pay for the work to the first deputy.

(3) When the great change began, when all of us were released from the cold, dry and drowsy weather at the door and on the lower Maidan, I got off the mat, only then did I remember about the envelope and realize that there might not be endured and brought yoga sama.

(4) Mother, prote, stood aside by her skinny fur coat, in a funny bonnet, under such hanging hair, and with noticeable flourishes, as if she was even more emphatic about her pitiful appearance, sadly marveled at the horde of schoolchildren who looked back at her, laughing And now they were talking one to another.

(5) Approaching, I hesitated and wanted to rush past unnoticed, but my mother, having immediately lit up with an affectionate smile, waved her hand, and I, even though I was even embarrassed in front of the comrades who had come before her.

- (6) Vadichka, lad, - she spoke dully in the old way, stretching out an envelope from the leftovers at home and with a small hand she was afraid, she was getting hot, sticking up to the tail of my overcoat, - and having forgotten the pennies, and I think - she’s getting angry, so ax - brought it.

(7) Having said this, she marveled at me, she didn’t ask for mercy, but, fiercely for killing me, I countered the hated whispers that the tenderness of the calf is beyond our control, and even if she brought me pennies, then don’t let me pay you. .

(8) Mother stood quietly, listening to the little girls, who lowered her tender old eyes with wine and bitterness. (9) I walked out of the exits and, very tightly, noisily wet the doors, looking around and marveling at the mat. (10) But I didn’t worry about it all, because I felt so much harm, but because I was afraid that I would cry in such an unlikely place.

(11) Mati just stood on the Maidan and, bowing her head in confusion, marveled at me. (12) Noticing that I was amazed at her, she waved my hand with the envelope as if she were walking at the station, and this woman is so young and bad, showing even more how old she is, ragged and pitiful.

(13) At the check-in, a number of friends came up to me and one of them asked what kind of peas were in my back’s room, which I tenderly exchanged. (14) I, laughing merrily, believe that this is a toothy governess and that she came to me with written recommendations.

(15) Once, having paid the pennies, my mother came out and, not caring for anyone, hunched over, wearing even less weight, her feet clicking, her very crooked heels, walked along the asphalt path to the slimy gate, I felt that there was pain in me for no heart.

(16) Damn it, because it burned me so hotly in the first place, it was painful, however, too bad. (For M. Agevim) *

* Ageev Mikhailo (Mark Lazarevich Levi) (1898 – 1973) – Russian writer.

2. Which version of the answer contains the information necessary to trigger the power supply: “What is the evidence of looking around and looking at the material (proposition 9)?”

1) Because the mother marveled at him, “she asked for mercy.”

2) Providing information about who your friends are laughing at.

3) Recognition of having formed the material.

4) The interviewee was afraid that his mother “would cry in such an unexpected place.”

3. Which variant has a special promotional power of language and phraseology?

1) Mother, however, stood aside by her skinny fur coat, in a funny bonnet, under which her gray hair hung...

2) ... I countered the hated whispers that the tenderness of the veal is not in our yard, and if you brought me pennies, then don’t let me pay for it myself.

3) Mati just stood on the Maidan and, bowing her head in confusion, marveled at me.

4).

4. From propositions 3-5, write a word in which the spelling of the prefix is ​​assigned to its meanings – “ inconsistency».

5. From propositions 13-16, write a word in which the spelling of the suffix is ​​determined by the rule: “In additions made as names with the help of the suffixes -ONN-, -ENN-, PN is written.”

Version: _________________________________________________

6. Replace the colloquial word ORAVA from proposition 4 with a stylistically neutral synonym. Write this as a synonym.

Version: _____________________________________________

7. Replace the verbs BEFORE THE LOCKING GATE (proposition 15), prompted on the basis of the weather, synonymous with the conjunctions of management. Write the word that came out.

8. Write the grammatical basis of the speech 2.

Version: _____________________________________________________

9. Between propositions 1 - 4, find a proposition with reinforced useful meanings. Write the number of this proposition.

Version: _____________________________________________________

10. In the instructions below from the text read, all the parts are numbered. Write down the numbers that indicate komi during the opening speech.

When the great change began, (1) when all of us were released from the cold weather, (2) during the dry and sunny weather, we were released at the door and on the lower maidan of the gathering, (3) just because I knew about the envelope and thoughts, (4) Well, (5) apparently, (6) she couldn’t bear it and brought it herself.

Version: _____________________________________

11. Indicate the number of grammatical bases in the river 5. Write the answer in numbers.

Version: _____________________________________________________

12. In the instructions below from the text read, all the parts are numbered. Write down the numbers that represent the parts between the parts foldable proposition, Knit with a creative tie.

Getting closer, (1) I hesitated and wanted to rush past, (2) ale mati, (3) having greeted me and immediately lit up with a humorous smile, (4) waved her hand (5) and I, (6) I wanted to feel really disgraceful in front of my comrades, (7) go to her.

Version: ________________________________________

13. Between propositions 11 - 15, find a foldable proposition with the same suborder of clauses. Write the number of this proposition.

Version: ___________________________________________________

14. Between propositions 8 - 12, find a compound proposition with a conjunction and a contract between the parts. Write the number of this proposition.

Version: ________________________________________________

15.1. Write a hard word, revealing the meaning of Svetlana Ivanivna Lvova’s everyday life: “Punctuation marks have their own importance in written language. Like a skin note, a punctuation mark has its place in the leaf system, and has its own unique “ character” ». When arguing your argument, make two (two) examples from the text you read.

Directly, indicate the numbers of the required propositions or quote.

You can write to the robot in a scientific or journalistic style, exploring the topic using linguistic material. You can print your tweet in the words of S.I. Lvovoy.

The consumption of the creation may become less than 70 liters.

A work written without relying on reading the text (after the text) is not evaluated. If the text is repeated or completely rewritten in the output text without any comments, then such work is assessed with zero points.

Write your words carefully, in clear handwriting.

15.2.Write tvir-mirkuvanya. Explain how you understand the ending to the text:“When, having paid the pennies, my mother came out and, not looking at anyone, hunched over, no longer getting tired, her feet clicking, her crooked heels, walked along the asphalt path to the slimy gates, I realized that it was in me to hurt for not ї heart . "Bel tsey, who so ardently pressed my attention, was, however, even more unsatisfactory."

Provide 2 (two) arguments from the text you read, which confirm your understanding. Directly, indicate the numbers of the required propositions or quote. The consumption of the creation may become less than 70 liters. If the text is repeated or completely rewritten in the output text without any comments, then such work is assessed with zero points. Write your words carefully, in clear handwriting.

15.3.How do you understand the meaning of words MOTHER'S LOVE? Formulate and comment on the designation you have given. Write a tweet on the topic “What kind of motherly shit is that?”, Having taken the thesis given by you, When arguing your thesis, provide 2 (two) examples of arguments that confirm your argument: one butt- bring an argument from the text you read, and other - From your life testimony.

The consumption of the creation may become less than 70 liters. If the text is repeated or completely rewritten in the output text without any comments, then such work is assessed with zero points. Write your words carefully, in clear handwriting.

Explanation.

15.1 The main purpose of punctuation is to convey the logic of a proposition, the connections between its parts. Suchasny linguist S.I. Lvova respects: “Punctuation marks have their own importance in written language. Like a skin note, a punctuation mark has its own place in the leaf system and has its own unique “character.”

I understand this meaning as follows: divisional signs are functionally significant, they may have hidden meanings assigned to them, contribute additional information, which cannot be expressed in words.

To confirm this assertion, we refer to the text of M. Ageev. The text has a lot of complex and simple expressions, in which comas, sounds, and other divisional signs are often used, which help to understand the structure of the speech, and therefore the meaning of what is written. They can reinforce parts of a colloquial speech or the same members of the same type, and can see reinforced members or words that are not grammatically related to the proposition. So, for example, at the river 8 (Mother stood quietly, listened to the little voices, guiltily and sadly lowering her tender old eyes) which reinforced the same adjectives: she stood, listened; and also see the strengthened furnishings “winefully and bitterly lowering their old affectionate eyes.” Thus, in the river there are specific designs in the warehouse that are transferred to the sensor sheets.

In the river 6, a dash is used several times. In the first and second cases - in the designated text: from direct language, there is a transition to the original text and a return to direct language. In another fragment of this proposition (and I think - it’s angry, so the axis - brought it) the dash signifies other functions: it indicates a significant sequence - one position follows another - raptovo, super clear yum, with which dash it is another indicator of a pause in the heroine’s movie : she is embarrassed, confused, because she had the opportunity to earn money, which she is afraid to become a son.

Thus, we were able to confirm on the facts that punctuation marks are very important, without them the replacement of a proposition would not be reasonable.

15.2 The hero of the text by Mikhail Ageev is to love his mother, but not to struggle through those that I feel that my mother is not sad, not worthy. Having studied at the gymnasium, she was afraid of being judged by her peers, especially those who did not know her. After mom left, the boys felt bad, but, unfortunately, they inevitably forgot about it. Axis about what to say in the final rows of the text.

In river number 5 we find confirmation of our submissiveness. The hero seemed to feel disgraceful in front of his comrades, because he wanted to “sneak past” their mother, so that they would not think that he knew her. This can be regarded not only as weakness, but also as the joy of a dear person. Insanely, it’s impossible to earn money, no matter how much you don’t want to give a hundred pounds to your mother.

We feel a sense of deep pity when we read how patiently my mother listened to Vitya’s story. It goes like this from the river number 8: “Mother stood quietly, listening to the little girls, who had lowered her tender old eyes in a guilty manner.” These eyes cannot honor their son for his position before her, mother’s eyes, as before, are sacred with affection and warmth.

It often happens in such a way that we cannot immediately appreciate how much we are loved by those closest to us, the person dear to us is our mother. This will never again be a sign of our callousness, our mischief, etc. From time to time we hear the sound of our mother saying that we think that she will be here again, which means we will be able to say kind words to her and show her our love.

15.3 Mother’s love is a great power, it’s breathtaking to create, to create. She is made to work miracles, to revive life, to cure troublesome illnesses. You can punish him, but mercy has come most often.

The hero of the text by Mikhail Ageev is to love his mother, but not to struggle through those that I feel that my mother is not sad, not worthy. Having studied at the gymnasium, she was afraid of being judged by her peers, especially those who did not know her. After mom left, the boys felt bad, but, unfortunately, they inevitably forgot about it. The hero seemed to feel disgraceful in front of his comrades, because he wanted to “sneak past” their mother, so that they would not think that he knew her. This can be regarded not only as weakness, but also as the joy of a dear person. Insanely, it’s impossible to earn money, no matter how much you don’t want to give a hundred pounds to your mother.

At the top of Dmitry Kedrin’s “Heart of a Mother” we read about those who gave up their hearts to their mother for the benefit of Kokhaniya. With this mother's heart continued to love her child. The verse has a deep meaning: to sound a cry: “People, think about it! You can’t put yourself in front of your mother like that! Don’t ruin your connection with yourself by severing the thread with your mother!”

Mothers for a child are all ties to childhood, the most unturbulent and purest hour of life. As long as mom is alive, people feel kidnapped. It is necessary to love your mothers and give them more warmth and affection, then, perhaps, we can better understand their turbo.