Nikolai Wagner - birch. Summary of a lesson on literary reading N. P. Wagner "Birch" My thoughts on the fairy tale Birch Wagner

When in the spring the sun warmed the birch and she woke up from a long winter sleep, she felt so good.

And the birch unrolled its resinous, odorous buds. She was all happy, all fragrant, all dressed in small, bright yellow-green leaves.

But this was not always the case. The longer the days got, the hotter the sun got. Then it was already hot, it began to burn, and it was very painful. The leaves on the birch were covered with dust, dried and turned yellow. She was dying of thirst.
- A drop, at least one drop of rain! she pleaded.

And here comes the rain. He gushed like a bucket, the wind rushed his drops. He beat them and whipped everything he came across: forest, grass, houses, people.

Why does it hurt so much! birch said. But the rain did not understand this: it hit the birch with cold drops more and more, and she was both sick and cold.

In less than two days, the clouds gathered, the wind rose; he blew harder and harder.

And he flew into a birch.

The birch swayed with a groan. All its branches, all leaves, veins trembled.

The birch groaned, cracked, and, broken, uprooted, fell to the ground.

The birch lay broken, mutilated. Her leaves fluttered. She was still full of life, but she had to die, because the storm tore her from her native land, which supported and nourished her.

You are a stupid mole rat and nothing else, - said the lizard. - If there was no sun, then there would be no us with you. - You would have frozen in your dark hole long ago. Oh! why does it not always shine and warm, this is a kind, good sun. So good when it bakes!

I knew it would be so, said the mole. - If there was no sun, there would be no wind. What's the point of living in the dark!

Beetles crawled out, lizards ran, a butterfly flew in, birds sang, swallows chirped, a mole peeped out of its hole.

Because of what they are all busy, - said the stone. - Isn't it all the same: storm, sun, rain, hail, thunder, lightning, heat, cold. I lie calmly and am not afraid of anything! It wets me with rain, dries me with the wind, bakes with the sun - I don't care, and sooner or later everything will turn into dust and sand.

Nothing to say! very good! - said the snail. - No, when it bakes, you don't know where to go from the heat. You just have to burrow under the leaves and clog up in your house.

Everything in the world, - said the moss, - has neither end nor beginning ... - ... Because everything in the world passes one into another,

Once, late in the evening, a poor old woodcutter came with his children. They dragged a birch tree with all the bugs and worms that lived in it to their home.

A whole week has passed. The birch has died.

Let everyone enjoy life as best they can!

It grew in a small clearing, a straight, slender birch, with a white trunk, with fragrant, varnished leaves. And all around her the old oaks rustled, the sprawling large lindens bloomed white and sweetly fragrant, bright velvet firs turned green with green needles, beautiful pines rounded with needle caps, and bitter, mourning aspens constantly trembled as if from fear with all their gray-green leaves. In a word, there was a whole grove around the birch, although small, but very beautiful.
Birch grew and remembered how it grew. She remembered. how difficult it was to dig and find food for its young roots in the earth. Now the earth was very loose, now it was too hard, then suddenly a stone prevented the growth of some of its roots, and that one involuntarily had to move aside, while others, stubborn, did not want to move away and died; but others from this death was more spacious.
Why not? - thought the birch, - the earth is not the same everywhere? Either there is too much food in it, or not enough, or not at all, and why are these stones on the road? How boring it all is!
When in the spring the sun warmed the birch and she woke up from a long winter sleep, she felt so good. The sun shone brightly and warmly. The air was full of warm vapors, the earth itself seemed to offer juicy, tasty food to the awakened roots. It all felt so good. And the birch unrolled its resinous, odorous buds. She was all happy, all fragrant, all dressed in small, bright yellow-green leaves.
But this was not always the case. The longer the days got, the hotter the sun got. Then it was already hot, it began to burn, and it was very painful. The leaves on the birch were covered with dust, dried and turned yellow. She was dying of thirst.
“A drop, just one drop of rain!” she pleaded.
And finally, the rain came. A black cloud swooped in with a roar and a whirlwind. The tops of the trees rustled, bent, all their leaves trembled. The wind tore them and carried them away. But the storm could not reach the birches. She was protected by other trees, she only felt how a light, fresh breeze ran through all her leaves, and she felt good.
And here comes the rain. He gushed like a bucket, the wind rushed his drops. He beat them and whipped everything he came across: forest, grass, houses, people.
- Why does it hurt so much! birch said. But the rain did not understand this: it hit the birch with cold drops more and more, and she was both sick and cold.
— Ah! whispered the birch. “How ugly everything is in the world!” How sick and cold I am! Even this morning I was suffocating from the heat, and now I am freezing from the cold, sick, beaten, wounded!
And the cold rain began to fall, it went on without ceasing, and a day, and two, and three. The birch is completely numb, as if in winter.
“Ah, how disgusting it all is, how disgusting! she whispered.
Finally the rain stopped. The clouds parted in the fog, and the sun began to warm again. The birch warmed up, rested, straightened all its leaves, but she was afraid of both rain and cold, and stood sad, not trusting either the sun or everything that was around her.
Once, early in the morning, when the grass was still sleeping under the cold dew and the pink morning was red on the tops of the trees, many peasants came to the grove with saws and axes, and work began. Knock, noise, scream. Old trees were cut with saws, chopped with axes, and they fell to the ground with a crack and a groan. By noon, the work was finished, almost all the trees lay dead around the birch. Only the birch and a few other aspens, which were as young as the birch, were left untouched.
There was no more grove - far around the birch was an open field.
- Look how good it looks now! Birch thinks. — Blue light mountains. It must be very warm there. And in front of them is the sea, white birds fly over it. There is a meadow, so green and velvety. Sheep walk on it. They will surely come to visit me. Oh! I hadn't seen any of this before. Where do clouds and rain and hail come from?
The birch thought for a while. In less than two days, the clouds gathered, the wind rose; he blew harder and harder. All the mountains were covered with clouds, the stormy sea turned blue. All the animals and small animals and birds hid wherever they could. Only long-winged gulls hovered over the white ramparts.
And the wind whistled, roared and roared like a hurricane.
“Now I am racing on mighty wings, I now feel strength. Keep away everything, space for me, space! - And he ran into a birch.
The birch swayed with a groan. All its branches, all leaves, veins trembled.
- Space, space! the storm screamed. - Get out of my way! Bend, bend, bow before me!
“Ah, I can’t bend down,” said the birch. - Since childhood, I grew up straight and proud. I can't bend. It's not my fault.
- Get down, get down! roared the whirlwind. - It's not my fault that I'm rushing, tearing and breaking everything. If there was no air, there would be no wind. If there were no wind, there would be no storm. There would be no air, and there would be nothing that breathes air. Get out of the way, free space for me, free space! Bend, bend before me!
- I can't bend. I can not! moaned the birch.
- Well, hold on tight! Whose strength will take! The wind roared and rushed at her with a terrible rush.
The birch groaned, cracked, and, broken, uprooted, fell to the ground.
And the storm moved on.
“Let me go, let me go, get out of the way!” I will break everything! she shouted.
And the storm passed.
Little by little the wind died down. There was silence, the sun came out.
The birch lay broken, mutilated. Her leaves fluttered. She was still full of life, but she had to die, because the storm tore her from her native land, which supported and nourished her.
Beetles crawled out, lizards ran, a butterfly flew in, birds sang, swallows chirped, a mole peeped out of its hole.
“I knew it would be like this,” said the mole. If there were no sun, there would be no wind. What's the point of living in the dark!
“You stupid mole rat and nothing else,” said the lizard. - If there was no sun, then there would be no us. “You would have frozen in your dark hole long ago. Oh! why does it not always shine and warm, this is a kind, good sun. So good when it bakes!
- Nothing to say! very good! said the snail. - No, when it bakes, you don’t know where to go from the heat. You just have to burrow under the leaves and clog up in your house.
“What are they all bothering about,” said the stone. Isn't it all the same: storm, sun, rain, hail, thunder, lightning, heat, cold. I lie calmly and am not afraid of anything! It wets me with rain, dries me with the wind, bakes with the sun - I don't care, and sooner or later everything will turn into dust and sand.
- Yes! If we were to reason like that, then everyone would have to be stones, - said the gray moss, which immediately grew on the stone, - I have been living in the world for a long time, I have been in the rain and in the snow, dried up almost to the roots and grew again. I have experienced a lot and I will tell you why in the world it is sometimes disgusting, sometimes good.
And everyone said:
- Let's hear what the gray moss will say!
“Everything in the world,” said the moss, “has neither end nor beginning…
- This is news! they all shouted.
- ... Because everything in the world passes one into another, - finished the moss. “No one can tell where the darkness ends and the light begins, and no one knows how far the light goes, which we do not yet know. What is heat and what is cold? The snail is warm, and the lizard feels cold at this time. Nuts bloom when there is still snow all around the fields, and linden blossoms only in the hot summer. Ether penetrates air, air penetrates stones, stones pass into grasses, grasses turn into animals. One from the other originates, and it is impossible to say where one ends and the other begins. This is how everything is arranged in the world, and whoever and how can live on it! “It’s good for someone who is accustomed to cold and heat, who is not afraid of rain and storms, who easily endures hunger and thirst, who can live even under snow, who is hard as a stone and mobile as the wind, who knows how to live a full life and know how to enjoy it...
- It's true, it's true! everyone shouted, “let everything weak die that cannot use life and has no right to it!” And everyone looked at each other proudly.
— Ah! whispered the half-dead birch. “If I could get used to everything, I would live and be happy. But no one is to blame for my death, and neither am I.
A whole week has passed. The birch has died. Its leaves withered, turned yellow, almost all of them were blown away by the wind, and they rotted far from one another. Delicious porcini mushrooms grew from them. The birch trunk itself began to rot. It started up a lot of small brown bugs and white worms. They all ate with pleasure the juicy, sweet birch tree, and they all repeated with one voice: let everyone enjoy life as best they can!
Once, late in the evening, a poor old woodcutter came with his children. They dragged a birch tree with all the bugs and worms that lived in it to their home. At the same time, the eldest son rode with pleasure around the yard astride a birch, then they chopped it up and threw it into the oven. All bugs and worms burned in the oven. But they cooked good oatmeal. All the children warmed themselves near the fire, ate porridge with pleasure and kept repeating:
“Let everyone enjoy life as best they can!”

From the series "Tales of the Cat-Purr", first published in 1872. The text is based on the publication: Tales of the Cat-Purr. - M .: Pravda, 1991.

Wagner Nikolai Petrovich

N. P. Wagner

Birch grew and remembered how it grew. She remembered. how difficult it was to dig and find food for its young roots in the earth. Either the earth was very loose, or too hard, or suddenly a stone prevented the growth of some of its roots, and that one involuntarily had to move aside, while others, stubborn, did not want to move away and died; but others from this death was more spacious.

Why. - thought the birch, - the earth is not the same everywhere? Either there is too much food in it, or not enough, or not at all, and why are these stones on the road? How boring it all is!

When in the spring the sun warmed the birch and she woke up from a long winter sleep, she felt so good. The sun shone brightly and warmly. The air was full of warm vapors, the earth itself seemed to offer juicy, tasty food to the awakened roots. It all felt so good. And the birch unrolled its resinous, odorous buds. She was all happy, all fragrant, all dressed in small, bright yellow-green leaves.

But this was not always the case. The longer the days got, the hotter the sun got. Then it was already hot, it began to burn, and it was very painful. The leaves on the birch were covered with dust, dried and turned yellow. She was dying of thirst.

A drop, even one drop of rain! she pleaded.

And finally, the rain came. A black cloud swooped in with a roar and a whirlwind. The tops of the trees rustled, bent, all their leaves trembled. The wind tore them and carried them away. But the storm could not reach the birches. She was protected by other trees, she only felt how a light, fresh breeze ran through all her leaves, and she felt good.

And here comes the rain. He gushed like a bucket, the wind rushed his drops. He beat them and whipped everything he came across: forest, grass, houses, people.

Why does it hurt so much! birch said. But the rain did not understand this: it hit the birch with cold drops more and more, and she was both sick and cold.

Oh! whispered the birch. - How ugly everything is in the world! How sick and cold I am! Even this morning I was suffocating from the heat, and now I am freezing from the cold, sick, beaten, wounded!

And the cold rain began to fall, it went on without ceasing, and a day, and two, and three. The birch is completely numb, as if in winter.

Oh, how disgusting, how disgusting! she whispered.

Finally the rain stopped. The clouds parted in the fog, and the sun began to warm again. The birch warmed up, rested, straightened all its leaves, but she was afraid of both rain and cold, and stood sad, not trusting either the sun or everything that was around her.

Once, early in the morning, when the grass was still sleeping under the cold dew and the pink morning was red on the tops of the trees, many peasants came to the grove with saws and axes, and work began. Knock, noise, scream. Old trees were cut with saws, chopped with axes, and they fell to the ground with a crack and a groan. By noon, the work was finished, almost all the trees lay dead around the birch. Only the birch and a few other aspens, which were as young as the birch, were left untouched.

There was no grove - far around the birch there was an open field.

That's how good it looks now! - thinks birch. - Blue light mountains. It must be very warm there. And in front of them is the sea, white birds fly over it. There is a meadow, so green and velvety. Sheep walk on it. They will surely come to visit me. Oh! I hadn't seen any of this before. Where do clouds and rain and hail come from?

The birch thought for a while. In less than two days, the clouds gathered, the wind rose; he blew harder and harder. All the mountains were covered with clouds, the stormy sea turned blue. All the animals and small animals and birds hid wherever they could. Only long-winged gulls hovered over the white ramparts.

And the wind whistled, roared and roared like a hurricane.

I am now rushing on mighty wings, I now feel the power. Keep away everything, space for me, space! - And he ran into a birch.

The birch swayed with a groan. All its branches, all leaves, veins trembled.

Space, space! the storm screamed. - Get out of my way! Bend, bend, bow before me!

Oh, I can’t bend down, said the birch. - Since childhood, I grew up straight and proud. I can't bend. It's not my fault.

Get down, get down! - the whirlwind hummed. - It's not my fault that I'm rushing, tearing and breaking everything. If there was no air, there would be no wind. If there were no wind, there would be no storm. There would be no air - and there would be nothing that breathes air. Get out of the way, free space for me, free space! Bend, bend before me!

I can't bend. I can not! moaned the birch.

Well, hold on tight! Whose strength will take! - the wind roared and with a terrible impulse flew at her.

The birch groaned, cracked, and, broken, uprooted, fell to the ground.

Space for me, space, get out of the way! I will break everything! she shouted.

And the storm passed.

Little by little the wind died down. There was silence, the sun came out.

The birch lay broken, mutilated. Her leaves fluttered. She was still full of life, but she had to die, because the storm tore her from her native land, which supported and nourished her.

Beetles crawled out, lizards ran, a butterfly flew in, birds sang, swallows chirped, a mole peeped out of its hole.

I knew it would be so, said the mole. - If there was no sun, there would be no wind. What's the point of living in the dark!

Nothing to say! very good! - said the snail. - No, when it bakes, you don't know where to go from the heat. You just have to burrow under the leaves and clog up in your house.

Yes! If we were to think like that, then everyone would have to be stones, - said the gray moss, which immediately grew on the stone, - I have been living in the world for a long time, I have been in the rain and in the snow, dried up almost to the roots and grew again. I have experienced a lot and I will tell you why in the world it is sometimes disgusting, sometimes good.

Summary of the lesson on literary reading in 4 "A" class
Lesson topic: N. P. Wagner "Birch"

Dzerzhinsk - 2016

Subject: A. A. Lindgren "Little Nils Carlson"
Lesson type: discovery of new knowledge
Target: acquaintance of students with the writer N. P. Wagnerand his work "Birch".

Tasks:

1. Tutorial: get acquainted with the biographyN. P. Wagner; introduce the work"Birch".

2. Developing: develop oral speech; attentiveness in independent reading; quick reference in the text; role-playing skills.

3. Nurturing: cultivate moral qualities: kindness and mutual assistance.
Teacher equipment: The book of N. F. Vinogradov "Literary reading", notebook, presentation.

Equipment for students: The book of N. F. Vinogradov "Literary reading", notebook, pencil case.

Lesson plan:

1) Org. moment
2) Checking d / z
3) Introduction to the topic of the lesson
4) Work on the topic of the lesson
- Biography of the author
- Physical education minute
- Reading by role
- Work in a notebook
- Quiz
5) Reflection

Planned results:

Personal: Be kind to others and help them.
Subject: Acquired knowledge about the life of A. A. Lindgren, the ability to analyze the text, find the necessary information in the text, identify the qualities of the characters in the work

Metasubject: The ability to overcome the barrier of expressing one's thoughts

Stage
lesson

Stage tasks

Teacher activity

Student activities

Methods, techniques, means, forms

UUD

1. Org. moment
(1 minute)

Organization of student activities.

Hello guys! I want to remind you, my name is Tatyana Sergeevna. Today I will give you a lesson in literary reading.
Check if everything you need for our lesson is on your desk? (Book, notebook, pencil case). I ask you to remove everything superfluous from your workplaces.

Students listen carefully and follow the instructions of the teacher.

front shape,
conversation.

Regulatory UUD (control)

2. Checking homework
(4 min)

Organization of verification of the material studied by students at home.

You and Olga Stanislavovna went through A. S. Pushkin's fairy tale "The Tale of the Dead Princess and the Seven Bogatyrs." Your homework was: to work. tetra. on page 24, complete task 2. Guys, what words did you write out from the text?

The students are checking the house. assignments with the teacher.

Frontal form, conversation.

Regulatory UUD (Control)
Cognitive UUD

3. Work on the topic of the lesson
(30 minutes)

Today we will get acquainted with the work of A. A. Lindgren "Little Nils Carlson". We will learn to read expressively by roles. But before I start reading, I will now tell you about this wonderful author.

(Presentation)

Let's get some rest

Physical education minute
We are funny monkeys
We play too loud.
We all stomp our feet
We all clap our hands
We puff out cheeks
We jump on toes.
Together we jump to the ceiling,
Bring the finger to the temple
And even to each other
Let's show the tongues!
Let's open our mouth wide
We'll make all the grimaces.
When I say word three
All freeze with grimaces.
One two Three!

Have a seat!

Now let's open our textbook to page 118. To begin with, I will start reading to you so that you can understand with what emotions and intonations this work is read. Follow the text, then we will read together!
- Reading a work

Here we are with you and finished the work.
- Remind me what it was called?
- Who wrote it?
What are the names of the main characters in the story?
- Where does the story take place?
- Where does Nils live?
- Why was the boy sad at home alone?
- Describe Bertil to me! What is he?
- And what characteristic can you give to Nils?
Good! And now let's go, we will observe the character of the heroes and try to plunge into this fairy tale. Let's imagine that we are those same heroes.
- Distribution of roles

Role reading by children

Guys raise your eyes to me.
did you manage to imagine the heroes of a fairy tale?
What was difficult? What was easy for you?
Have you changed your idea of the heroes of a fairy tale after you seemed to have lived their life?
Now let's see how you remember and understand the work. (presentation)

Add. task: Task number 2 in the notebook, p. 30

Listen to the teacher's reading, follow the text.

Read.

They read by roles on their own, the rest of the students follow the text. (changing)
Perform control.

Primary control and consolidation of the work

Carry out the task.

front shape,
story,
conversation.

Cognitive UUD
Regulatory UUD

4. Reflection
(5 minutes)

Organize reflective activities, thereby summing up the lesson.

Guys, what interesting thing did you learn at the lesson today?
- What do you remember the most?
What moment in the story did you like the most?
- Do you think we did a good job today?
Why did you make such a conclusion?
In your opinion, which of the guys got used to the role of their hero the best? Why do you think so!

You did great work today! Goodies!

We found out who A. A. Lindgren is, got acquainted with her works.
Answers learn what they remember and liked the most.
- Yes, because today we learned about a new author, learned about her works, read one of them. Read by roles, etc.

front shape,
conversation.

Cognitive UUD

Why. - thought the birch, - the earth is not the same everywhere? Either there is too much food in it, or not enough, or not at all, and why are these stones on the road? How boring it all is!

A drop, even one drop of rain! she pleaded.

And here comes the rain. He gushed like a bucket, the wind rushed his drops. He beat them and whipped everything he came across: forest, grass, houses, people.

Why does it hurt so much! birch said. But the rain did not understand this: it hit the birch with cold drops more and more, and she was both sick and cold.

Oh! whispered the birch. - How ugly everything is in the world! How sick and cold I am! Even this morning I was suffocating from the heat, and now I am freezing from the cold, sick, beaten, wounded!

And the cold rain began to fall, it went on without ceasing, and a day, and two, and three. The birch is completely numb, as if in winter.

Oh, how disgusting, how disgusting! she whispered.

There was no grove - far around the birch there was an open field.

And the wind whistled, roared and roared like a hurricane.

I am now rushing on mighty wings, I now feel the power. Keep away everything, space for me, space! - And he ran into a birch.

The birch swayed with a groan. All its branches, all leaves, veins trembled.

Space, space! the storm screamed. - Get out of my way! Bend, bend, bow before me!

Oh, I can’t bend down, said the birch. - Since childhood, I grew up straight and proud. I can't bend. It's not my fault.

I can't bend. I can not! moaned the birch.

Well, hold on tight! Whose strength will take! - the wind roared and with a terrible impulse flew at her.

The birch groaned, cracked, and, broken, uprooted, fell to the ground.

Space for me, space, get out of the way! I will break everything! she shouted.

And the storm passed.

Little by little the wind died down. There was silence, the sun came out.

The birch lay broken, mutilated. Her leaves fluttered. She was still full of life, but she had to die, because the storm tore her from her native land, which supported and nourished her.

Beetles crawled out, lizards ran, a butterfly flew in, birds sang, swallows chirped, a mole peeped out of its hole.

I knew it would be so, said the mole. - If there was no sun, there would be no wind. What's the point of living in the dark!

Nothing to say! very good! - said the snail. - No, when it bakes, you don't know where to go from the heat. You just have to burrow under the leaves and clog up in your house.

And everyone said:

Let's hear what the gray moss will say!

Everything in the world, - said the moss, - has neither an end nor a beginning...

This is news! they all shouted.

Because everything in the world passes one into another, - finished the moss. “No one can tell where the darkness ends and the light begins, and no one knows how far the light goes, which we do not yet know. What is heat and what is cold? The snail is warm, and the lizard feels cold at this time. Nuts bloom when there is still snow all around the fields, and linden blossoms only in the hot summer. Ether penetrates air, air penetrates stones, stones pass into grasses, grasses turn into animals. One from the other originates, and it is impossible to say where one ends and the other begins. This is how everything is arranged in the world, and whoever and how can live on it! - It is good for someone who is used to cold and heat, who is not afraid of rain and storms, who easily endures hunger and thirst, who can live even under snow, who is hard as a stone and mobile as the wind, who knows how to live a full life and know how to enjoy it...

It's true, it's true! - everyone shouted, - let everything weak die that cannot use life and has no right to it! And everyone looked at each other proudly.

Oh! whispered the half-dead birch. - If I could get used to everything, I would live and be happy. But no one is to blame for my death, and neither am I.

A whole week has passed. The birch has died. Its leaves withered, turned yellow, almost all of them were blown away by the wind, and they rotted far from one another. Delicious porcini mushrooms grew from them. The birch trunk itself began to rot. It started up a lot of small brown bugs and white worms. They all ate with pleasure the juicy, sweet birch tree, and they all repeated with one voice: let everyone enjoy life as best they can!

Once, late in the evening, a poor old woodcutter came with his children. They dragged a birch tree with all the bugs and worms that lived in it to their home. At the same time, the eldest son rode with pleasure around the yard astride a birch, then they chopped it up and threw it into the oven. All bugs and worms burned in the oven. But they cooked good oatmeal. All the children warmed themselves near the fire, ate porridge with pleasure and kept repeating:

Let everyone enjoy life as best they can!