Green twig. Collection of ideal essays in social studies Option 31 on the Western Front I had to

Text by Lev Abramovich Kassil:

(1) On the Western Front, I had to live for some time in the dugout of a technician - quartermaster Tarasnikov. (2)0n worked in the operational part of the headquarters of the guards brigade. (3) Right there, in the dugout, his office was located.
(4) All day long he wrote and sealed packages, sealed them with sealing wax heated over a lamp, sent out some reports, accepted paper, redrew cards, tapped with one finger on a rusty typewriter, carefully knocking out each letter.
(5) One evening, when I returned to our hut, thoroughly wet in the rain, and squatted in front of the stove to light it, Tarasnikov got up from the table and came up to me.
“(6) “You see,” he said somewhat guiltily, “I decided not to light the stoves for the time being.” (7) Otherwise, you know, the stove produces fumes, and this, apparently, is reflected in its growth. (8) She stopped growing completely.
-(9) Who stopped growing?
- (10) Why haven’t you paid attention yet? - Tarasnikov shouted, staring at me with indignation. - (11) What is this? (12) Don't you see?
(12) And he looked with sudden tenderness at the low log ceiling of our dugout.
(14) I stood up, raised the lamp and saw that a thick round elm tree in the ceiling had sprouted a green sprout. (15) Pale and tender, with unsteady leaves, it stretched up to the ceiling. (16) In two places it was supported by white ribbons pinned to the ceiling with buttons.
-(17) Do you understand? - Tarasnikov spoke. - (18) Growing all the time. (19) Such a glorious branch sprang up. (20) And then you and I began to drown often, but she apparently didn’t like it. (21) Here I made notches on the log, and I have the dates stamped on it. (22) You see how quickly it grew at first. (23) Some days I pulled out two centimeters. (24) I give you my honest, noble word! (25) And since you and I began to smoke here, I haven’t seen any growth for three days now. (26) So she won’t fade away for long. (27 Let’s refrain. (28) But, you know, I’m interested in: will he get to the exit? (29) After all, he’s reaching out closer to the air, where he senses the sun from underground.
(30) And we went to bed in an unheated, damp dugout. (31) The next day I started talking to him about his twig.
- (32) Imagine, she stretched out almost one and a half centimeters. (33) I told you, there is no need to drown. (34) This is simply an amazing natural phenomenon!...
(35) At night, the Germans rained down massive artillery fire on our location. (36) I woke up from the roar of nearby explosions, spitting out earth, which, due to the shaking, fell abundantly on us through the log ceiling. (37) Tarasnikov also woke up and turned on the light bulb. (38) Everything was hooting, trembling and shaking around us. (39) Tarasnikoa put the light bulb in the middle of the table, leaned back on his bed, lay it down! hands behind head:
- (40) I think that there is no great danger. (41) Won't it hurt her? (42) Of course, it’s a concussion, but there are three waves above us. (43) Is it just a direct hit? (44) And, you see, I tied it up. (45) As if he had a presentiment...
(46) I looked at him with interest.
(47) He lay with his head thrown back on his hands behind the back of his head, and looked with tender care at the weak green sprout curling under the ceiling. (48) He simply forgot, apparently, that a shell could fall on you, explode in the dugout, and bury us alive underground. (49) No, he was only thinking about the pale green branch stretching under the ceiling of our hut. (50) He was only worried about her.
(51) And often now, when I meet demanding, very busy, dry and callous at first glance, seemingly unfriendly people at the front and in the rear, I remember the technician-quartermaster Tarasnikov and his green branch. (52) Let the fire roar overhead, let the dank dampness of the earth penetrate into the very bones, all the same - as long as the timid, shy green sprout survives, if only it reaches the sun, the desired exit.
(53) And it seems to me that each of us has our own treasured green twig. (54) For her sake we are ready to endure all the ordeals and hardships wartime, because we know for sure: there, behind the exit, hung today with a damp raincoat, the sun will certainly meet, warm and give new strength to our branch that has reached out, grown and saved by us.

(According to L. Kassil*)

Show full text

In his text, Russian prose writer L.A. Kassil raises the problem of overcoming difficult periods of life.

To draw the reader’s attention to this issue, the author cites as an example the technician-quartermaster Tarasnikov, who found “... his treasured green branch,” which helped him endure all the hardships of the wartime and overcome fear. Kassil is surprised by the act of Tarasnikov, who was ready to sleep in a damp dugout if only the “shy green sprout” would survive and reach the sun. The writer reflects on what helps a person overcome difficult moments life, move forward and believe in yourself.

The author is convinced that by observing how, in unsuitable circumstances for life, straining all his strength, a branch grows on a felled tree, a person can overcome internal spiritual weaknesses, feeling the vital force of nature.

Agreeing with L.A. Cassilem, I would like to address fiction and find an arga in it

Criteria

1 of 1 K1 Formulation of source text problems
2 of 3 K2

Text by Lev Abramovich Kassil:

(1) On the Western Front, I had to live for some time in the dugout of a technician - quartermaster Tarasnikov. (2)0n worked in the operational part of the headquarters of the guards brigade. (3) Right there, in the dugout, his office was located.
(4) All day long he wrote and sealed packages, sealed them with sealing wax heated over a lamp, sent out some reports, accepted paper, redrew cards, tapped with one finger on a rusty typewriter, carefully knocking out each letter.
(5) One evening, when I returned to our hut, thoroughly wet in the rain, and squatted in front of the stove to light it, Tarasnikov got up from the table and came up to me.
“(6) “You see,” he said somewhat guiltily, “I decided not to light the stoves for the time being.” (7) Otherwise, you know, the stove produces fumes, and this, apparently, is reflected in its growth. (8) She stopped growing completely.
-(9) Who stopped growing?
- (10) Why haven’t you paid attention yet? - Tarasnikov shouted, staring at me with indignation. - (11) What is this? (12) Don't you see?
(12) And he looked with sudden tenderness at the low log ceiling of our dugout.
(14) I stood up, raised the lamp and saw that a thick round elm tree in the ceiling had sprouted a green sprout. (15) Pale and tender, with unsteady leaves, it stretched up to the ceiling. (16) In two places it was supported by white ribbons pinned to the ceiling with buttons.
-(17) Do you understand? - Tarasnikov spoke. - (18) Growing all the time. (19) Such a glorious branch sprang up. (20) And then you and I began to drown often, but she apparently didn’t like it. (21) Here I made notches on the log, and I have the dates stamped on it. (22) You see how quickly it grew at first. (23) Some days I pulled out two centimeters. (24) I give you my honest, noble word! (25) And since you and I began to smoke here, I haven’t seen any growth for three days now. (26) So she won’t fade away for long. (27 Let’s refrain. (28) But, you know, I’m interested in: will he get to the exit? (29) After all, he’s reaching out closer to the air, where he senses the sun from underground.
(30) And we went to bed in an unheated, damp dugout. (31) The next day I started talking to him about his twig.
- (32) Imagine, she stretched out almost one and a half centimeters. (33) I told you, there is no need to drown. (34) This is simply an amazing natural phenomenon!...
(35) At night, the Germans rained down massive artillery fire on our location. (36) I woke up from the roar of nearby explosions, spitting out earth, which, due to the shaking, fell abundantly on us through the log ceiling. (37) Tarasnikov also woke up and turned on the light bulb. (38) Everything was hooting, trembling and shaking around us. (39) Tarasnikoa put the light bulb in the middle of the table, leaned back on his bed, lay it down! hands behind head:
- (40) I think that there is no great danger. (41) Won't it hurt her? (42) Of course, it’s a concussion, but there are three waves above us. (43) Is it just a direct hit? (44) And, you see, I tied it up. (45) As if he had a presentiment...
(46) I looked at him with interest.
(47) He lay with his head thrown back on his hands behind the back of his head, and looked with tender care at the weak green sprout curling under the ceiling. (48) He simply forgot, apparently, that a shell could fall on you, explode in the dugout, and bury us alive underground. (49) No, he was only thinking about the pale green branch stretching under the ceiling of our hut. (50) He was only worried about her.
(51) And often now, when I meet demanding, very busy, dry and callous at first glance, seemingly unfriendly people at the front and in the rear, I remember the technician-quartermaster Tarasnikov and his green branch. (52) Let the fire roar overhead, let the dank dampness of the earth penetrate into the very bones, all the same - as long as the timid, shy green sprout survives, if only it reaches the sun, the desired exit.
(53) And it seems to me that each of us has our own treasured green twig. (54) For her sake, we are ready to endure all the ordeals and hardships of the wartime, because we know for sure: there, behind the exit, hung today with a damp raincoat, the sun will certainly meet, warm and give new strength to our branch that has reached out, grown and saved by us.

(According to L. Kassil*)

Show full text

In his text, Russian prose writer L.A. Kassil raises the problem of overcoming difficult periods of life.

Agreeing with L.A. Cassilem, I want to turn to fiction and find argument in it

Criteria

1 of 1 K1 Formulation of source text problems
2 of 3 K2

Essay based on the text: “On the Western Front, I had to live for some time in the dugout of a technician - quartermaster Tarasnikov.” Kassil L. A.

What helps a person survive and not lose heart in difficult circumstances? The prominent Russian prose writer of the 20th century L. A. Kassil makes us think about this.

The text tells about the narrator’s meeting on the roads of war with one interesting person - the technician-quartermaster of the operational unit of the headquarters of the guards brigade, Tarasnikov. Carrying yours properly military service, he managed to take care of a small green shoot that sprouted from a thick round elm in the ceiling of the dugout: he tied it up with ribbons, did not stoke the stove again so that the fumes emanating from it would not harm the plant, thought about it all the time, noticed the slightest changes in its development and well-being . Such a tender, reverent attitude towards the sprout in the midst of the horrors of war amazed the narrator and led to philosophical generalizations.

Thus, Andrei Bolkonsky, one of L.N. Tolstoy’s favorite heroes, feels absolutely happy after an acute spiritual crisis when he discovers the moral truth: “You need to live for others.”

I remember the story of Andrei Sokolov, the hero of the story “The Fate of a Man,” from whom the war took everything: his house, his wife, his children. To show the depth of the soldier’s grief, Sholokhov finds an amazing image - “eyes as if sprinkled with ashes.” However, having adopted the boy Vanya he met on the road, the hero seems to be reborn...

Thus, a loving person is a strong, wise person. And happy, no matter what.

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write an essay on the topic of what helps a person survive difficult moments?

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Lev Abramovich Kassil

green twig

On the Western Front, I had to sew for some time in the dugout of the technician-quartermaster Tarasnikov. He worked in the operational part of the guards brigade headquarters. His office was located right there in the dugout. A three-line lamp illuminated the low frame. It smelled of fresh wood, earthy dampness and sealing wax. Tarasnikov himself, a short, sickly-looking young man with a funny red mustache and a yellow, stoned mouth, greeted me politely, but not too friendly.

“Set yourself here,” he told me, pointing to the trestle bed and immediately bending over his papers again. “Now they’ll set up a tent for you.” I hope my office won't bother you? Well, I hope you won’t bother us too much either. Let's agree this way. Have a seat for now.

And I began to live in Tarasnikov’s underground office.

He was a very restless, unusually meticulous and picky worker. He spent whole days writing and sealing packages, sealing them with sealing wax heated over a lamp, sending out some reports, accepting papers, redrawing maps, tapping with one finger on a rusty typewriter, carefully knocking out every letter. In the evenings he was tormented by attacks of fever, he swallowed quinine, but categorically refused to go to the hospital:

- What are you, what are you! Where will I go? Yes, this is where the whole thing will happen without me! Everything depends on me. I should go away for a day, but then you won’t be able to unravel here for a year...

Late at night, returning from the front line of defense, falling asleep on my trestle bed, I still saw Tarasnikov’s tired and pale face at the table, illuminated by the fire of the lamp, delicately, for my sake, lowered, and shrouded in tobacco fog. Hot smoke came from a clay stove stacked in the corner. Tarasnikov's tired eyes watered, but he continued to write and seal the bags. Then he called a messenger, who was waiting behind a raincoat hung at the entrance to our dugout, and I heard the following conversation.

- Who is from the fifth battalion? - asked Tarasnikov.

“I’m from the fifth battalion,” answered the messenger.

– Accept the package... Here. Take it in your hands. So. You see, it says here: “Urgent.” Therefore, deliver immediately. Hand it over personally to the commander. It's clear? If there is no commander, hand it over to the commissar. There won't be a commissioner - look for him. Do not pass it on to anyone else. Clear? Repeat.

“Deliver the package urgently,” the messenger repeated monotonously, as in a lesson. “Personally, the commander, if it’s not there, the commissar, if it’s not there, find it.”

- Right. What will you carry the package in?

- Yes, usually... Right here, in my pocket.

- Show me your pocket. - And Tarasnikov approached the tall messenger, stood on tiptoe, put his hand under the raincoat, into the bosom of his overcoat, and checked if there were any holes in his pocket.

- Yes, okay. Now keep in mind: the package is secret. Therefore, if you get caught by the enemy, what will you do?

What are you talking about, comrade technician-quartermaster, why would I get caught!

There is no need to get caught, absolutely true, but I ask you: what will you do if you get caught?

Yes, I will never get caught...

- And I ask you, if? So, listen. If there is any danger, eat the contents without reading. Tear the envelope and throw it away. Clear? Repeat.

– In case of danger, tear the envelope and throw it away, and eat what’s in between.

- Right. How long will it take to deliver the package?

- Yes, it’s about forty minutes and it’s only a walk.

- More precisely, I ask.

- Yes, comrade technician-quartermaster, I think it will take me no more than fifty minutes.

- More precisely.

- Yes, I’ll definitely deliver it in an hour.

- So. Notice the time. – Tarasnikov clicked his huge conductor’s watch. - It’s twenty-three fifty now. This means that they are obliged to deliver no later than zero fifty minutes. Clear? You can go.

And this dialogue was repeated with every messenger, with every liaison. Having finished with all the packages, Tarasnikov packed up. But even in his sleep, he continued to teach the messengers, took offense at someone, and often at night I was woken up by his loud, dry, abrupt voice:

- How are you standing? Where have you come? This is not a hair salon, but a headquarters office! – he said clearly in his sleep.

- Why did you enter without announcing? Log out and log in again. It's time to learn order. So. Wait. Do you see the man eating? You can wait, your package is not urgent. Give the man something to eat... Sign... Departure time... You can go. You are free…

I shook him, trying to wake him up. He jumped up, looked at me with a little meaningful look and, falling back onto his bed, covering himself with his overcoat, instantly plunged into his staff dreams. And again he began to speak quickly.

All this was not very pleasant. And I was already thinking about how I could move to another dugout. But one evening, when I returned to our hut, thoroughly wet from the rain, and squatted in front of the stove to light it, Tarasnikov got up from the table and came up to me.

“So it turns out like this,” he said somewhat guiltily. – You see, I decided not to light the stoves for the time being. Let's abstain for five days. And then, you know, the stove gives off fumes, and this, apparently, affects her growth... It has a bad effect on her.

I, not understanding anything, looked at Tarasnikov:

- Whose height? On the growth of the stove?

- What does the stove have to do with it? - Tarasnikov was offended. – I think I express myself quite clearly. This same child, he apparently doesn’t act well... She stopped growing completely.

- Who stopped growing?

“What, haven’t you paid attention yet?” Tarasnikov shouted, staring at me with indignation. -And what's that? Don’t you see? - And he looked with sudden tenderness at the low log ceiling of our dugout.

I stood up, lifted the lamp and saw that a thick round elm tree in the ceiling had sprouted a green sprout. Pale and tender, with unsteady leaves, it stretched up to the ceiling. In two places it was supported by white ribbons, pinned to the ceiling with buttons.

- Do you understand? - Tarasnikov spoke. – It grew all the time. Such a nice branch sprang up. And then we started heating it often, but she apparently didn’t like it. Here I made aarubochki on a log, and I have the dates stamped on them. You see how quickly it grew at first. Some days I pulled out two centimeters. I give you my honest, noble word! And since you and I started smoking here, I haven’t seen any growth for three days now. So it won't take long for her to wither away. Let's abstain. And I should smoke less. The little stalk is delicate, everything affects it. And, you know, I’m wondering: will he make it to the exit? A? After all, this is how the little devil reaches out closer to the air, where he senses the sun from under the ground.

And we went to bed in an unheated, damp dugout. The next day, in order to gain Tarasnikov’s favor, I myself started talking to him about his twig.

“Well,” I asked, throwing off my wet raincoat, “is it growing?”

Tarasnikov jumped out from behind the table, looked me carefully in the eyes, wanting to check if I was laughing at him, but seeing that I was speaking seriously, with quiet delight he lifted the lamp, moved it a little to the side so as not to smoke his twig, and almost whispered to me:

– Imagine, she stretched out almost one and a half centimeters. I told you, there is no need to drown. This is simply an amazing natural phenomenon!…

At night, the Germans brought down massive artillery fire on our location. I woke up from the roar of nearby explosions, spitting out earth, which from the shaking fell abundantly on us through