Dostoevsky stories for children, a boy with a pen. Fyodor Dostoevsky - Boy at Christ's Christmas tree. A Yule Tale (1876)

Very briefly, a high school boy comes to a dying man. serious illness friend to make peace with him.

The work “Boys” is the tenth book of the fourth part of F. M. Dostoevsky’s novel “”.

Kolya Krasotkin

The thirty-year-old widow of the provincial secretary Krasotkin lived “with her capital” in a small, clean house. The husband of this pretty, timid and gentle lady died thirteen years ago. Having gotten married at the age of eighteen, she lived in marriage for only a year, but managed to give birth to a son, Kolya, to whom she devoted “all of herself.”

Throughout his childhood, the mother was in awe of her son, and when the boy entered the gymnasium, “she rushed to study all the sciences with him in order to help him and rehearse lessons with him.” They started teasing Kolya as a “mama’s boy,” but his character turned out to be strong and he managed to defend himself.

Kolya studied well, seeing the respect of his classmates, did not become arrogant, behaved friendly and knew how to restrain his temper, especially when communicating with elders. Kolya was proud, and even managed to subjugate his mother to his will. The widow willingly obeyed her son, but sometimes it seemed to her that the boy was “insensitive” and “loved her little.” She was wrong - Kolya loved his mother very much, but could not stand “calf tenderness.”

From time to time Kolya liked to play pranks - perform miracles and show off. There were several books left from his father in the house, and the boy “read something that he should not have been allowed to read at his age.” This inappropriate reading led to more serious pranks.

One summer, a widow took her son to visit her friend, whose husband worked at the railway station. There Kolya made a bet with the local boys that he would lie motionless under a train rushing at full speed.

These fifteen-year-olds turned up their noses at him too much and at first did not even want to consider him a comrade, as “little”, which was already unbearably offensive.

Kolya won the argument, but lost consciousness when the train passed over him, which he admitted some time later to his frightened mother. The news of this “feat” reached the gymnasium, and Kolya’s reputation as a “desperate” was finally strengthened. They even planned to expel the boy, but teacher Dardanelov, who was in love with Mrs. Krasotkina, stood up for him. The grateful widow gave the teacher little hope of reciprocity, and Kolya began to treat him more respectfully, although he despised Dardanelov for his “feelings.”

Soon after this, Kolya brought a mongrel into the house, named him Perezvon, locked him in his room, didn’t show him to anyone, and diligently taught him all sorts of tricks.

Kids

It was a frosty November. It was a day off. Kolya wanted to go out “one at a time very important matter“, but he couldn’t, because everyone left the house, and he was left to look after the children, his brother and sister, whom he loved very much and called “bubbles.” The children belonged to the Krasotkins’ neighbor, the wife of a doctor who abandoned the family. The doctor's maid was about to give birth, and both ladies took her to the midwife, while Agafya, who served the Krasotkins, lingered at the market.

The boy was greatly amused by the “bubbles”’ reasoning about where children come from. The brother and sister were afraid to be left at home alone, and Kolya had to entertain them - show them a toy cannon that can shoot, and force Perezvon to do all sorts of tricks.

Finally, Agafya returned, and Kolya left on his important business, taking Perezvon with him.

Pupils

Kolya met with an eleven-year-old boy, Smurov, the son of a wealthy official, who was two grades younger than Krasotkin. Smurov’s parents forbade their son to hang out with the “desperate naughty” Krasotkin, so the boys communicated in secret.

The schoolchildren went to see their friend Ilyusha Snegirev, who was seriously ill and no longer got out of bed. Alexey Karamazov persuaded the guys to visit Ilyusha to brighten up his last days.

Kolya was surprised that Karamazov was busy with the baby when there was trouble in his own family - they would soon be tried for the parricide of his older brother. For Krasotkin, Alexey was a mysterious person, and the boy dreamed of meeting him.

The boys walked through the market square. Kolya announced to Smurov that he had become a socialist and a supporter of universal equality, then he started talking about the early frost, to which people were not yet accustomed.

People have a habit of everything, in everything, even in government and political relations. Habit is the main engine.

On the way, Kolya started talking and bullying the men and women traders, declaring that he liked to “talk to the people.” He even managed to create a small scandal out of nowhere and confuse the young clerk.

Approaching the house of Staff Captain Snegirev, Kolya ordered Smurov to call Karamazov, wanting to “smell” him first.

Bug

Kolya was excitedly waiting for Karamazov - “there was something sympathetic and attractive in all the stories he heard about Alyosha.” The boy decided not to lose face, to show his independence, but was afraid that because vertically challenged Karamazov will not accept him as an equal.

Alyosha was glad to see Kolya. In his delirium, Ilyusha often remembered his friend and suffered greatly that he did not come. Kolya told Karamazov how they met. Krasotkin noticed Ilyusha when he went to preparatory class. Classmates teased the weak boy, but he did not obey and tried to fight them back. Kolya liked this rebellious pride, and he took Ilyusha under his protection.

Soon Krasotkin noticed that the boy became too attached to him. Being an enemy of “all kinds of calf tenderness,” Kolya began to treat Ilyusha more and more coldly in order to “train the character” of the baby.

One day, Kolya learned that the Karamazovs’ lackey had taught Ilyusha a “brutal joke” - wrapping a pin in bread crumb and feeding this “treat” to a hungry dog. The pin was swallowed by a homeless Bug. Ilyusha was sure that the dog was dead and suffered greatly. Kolya decided to take advantage of Ilyusha’s remorse and, for educational purposes, declared that he would no longer speak to him.

Kolya intended to “forgive” Ilyusha in a few days, but his classmates, seeing that he had lost the protection of his elder, again began to call Ilyusha’s father a “washcloth.” During one of these “battles,” the baby was severely beaten. Kolya, who was present at the time, wanted to intercede for him, but it seemed to Ilyusha that ex-friend and the patron also laughs at him, and he pokes Krasotkin in the thigh with a penknife. On the same day, Ilyusha, extremely excited, bit Alyosha on the finger. Then the baby fell ill. Kolya was very sorry that he had not yet come to visit him, but he had his own reasons.

Ilyusha decided that God had punished him with illness for killing Zhuchka. Snegirev and the guys searched the whole city, but the dog was never found. Everyone hoped that Kolya would find Zhuchka, but he said that he had no intention of doing so.

Before entering Ilyusha, Kolya asked Karamazov what the boy’s father, Staff Captain Snegirev, was like. In the city he was considered a buffoon.

There are people who feel deeply, but are somehow oppressed. Their buffoonery is like malicious irony towards those to whose faces they do not dare tell the truth out of long-term humiliating timidity in front of them.

Snegirev adored his son. Alyosha was afraid that after the death of Ilyusha Snegirev would go crazy or “take his own life” out of grief.

Proud Kolya was afraid that the guys would tell Karamazov tales about him. For example, they said that during recess he plays “Cossacks-robbers” with the kids. But Alyosha did not see anything wrong with this, considering the game “an emerging need for art in a young soul.” Reassured, Kolya promised to show Ilyusha some kind of “show.”

At Ilyusha's bed

The cramped and poor room of the Snegirevs was full of children from the pro-gymnasium. Alexei unobtrusively, one by one, brought them together with Ilyusha, hoping to alleviate the boy’s suffering. The only thing he could not approach was the independent Krasotkin, who told Smurov, who was sent to him, that he had “his own calculations,” and he himself knew when to go to the patient.

Ilyusha was lying in bed under the images, sitting next to him was his legless sister and his “crazy mother” - a half-crazed woman whose behavior resembled a child. Since Ilyusha fell ill, the staff captain almost stopped drinking and even mamma became silent and thoughtful.

Snegirev tried in every possible way to cheer up his son. Occasionally he would run out into the hallway and “begin to sob with some kind of liquid, shaking cry.” Both Snegirev and mother rejoiced when their home was filled with children's laughter.

Recently, the wealthy merchant Katerina Ivanovna began helping the Snegirev family. She gave money and paid for the doctor’s regular visits, and the staff captain “forgot his former ambition and humbly accepted alms.” So today they were expecting a famous doctor from Moscow, whom Katerina Ivanovna asked to see Ilyusha.

Kolya was amazed at how Ilyusha had changed in just two months.

He could not even imagine that he would see such a thin and yellowed face, such burning eyes in the feverish heat and seemingly terribly enlarged, such thin hands.

Sitting down by his friend’s bed, Kolya mercilessly reminded him of the disappeared Bug, not noticing that Alyosha was shaking his head negatively. Then Smurov opened the door, Kolya whistled, and Perezvon ran into the room, in which Ilyusha recognized Zhuchka.

Kolya told how he searched for the dog for several days, and then locked it in his place and taught it various tricks. That is why he did not come to Ilyusha for so long. Krasotkin did not understand how such a shock could have a devastating effect on the sick boy, otherwise he would not have thrown out “such a thing.” Probably only Alexey understood that it was dangerous to worry the patient; everyone else was happy that Zhuchka was alive.

Kolya forced the perezvon to show all the learned tricks, and then handed Ilyusha a cannon and a book, which he had exchanged from a classmate especially for his friend. Mama liked the cannon very much, and Ilyusha generously gave her the toy. Then Kolya told the patient all the news, including the story that had recently happened to him.

While walking along the market square, Kolya saw a flock of geese and dared one stupid guy to check whether the cart wheel would cut the goose's neck. The goose, of course, died, and the instigators ended up before the magistrate. He decided that the goose would go to the guy who would pay a ruble to the owner of the bird. The judge released Kolya, threatening to report to the authorities of the gymnasium.

Then an important Moscow doctor arrived, and the guests had to leave the room for a while.

Early development

Krasotkin got the opportunity to talk with Alexei Karamazov alone, in the hallway. Trying to appear mature and educated, the boy told him his thoughts about God, Voltaire, Belinsky, socialism, medicine, the place of women in modern society and other things. Thirteen-year-old Kolya believed that God was needed “for the world order,” Voltaire did not believe in God, but “loved humanity,” Christ, if he lived now, would certainly join the revolutionaries, and “a woman is a subordinate creature and must obey.”

Having listened to Kolya very seriously, Alyosha was amazed at him early development. It turned out that Krasotkin had not really read either Voltaire or Belinsky, or “forbidden literature,” except for the single issue of the magazine “Bell,” but he had a strong opinion about everything. In his head there was a real “mess” of unread things, read too early and not fully understood.

Alyosha felt sad that this young man, who had not yet begun to live, was already perverted by “all this crude nonsense” and was too proud, however, like all Russian high school students, whose main characteristic is “no knowledge and selfless conceit.”

Show the ‹…› Russian schoolchild a map starry sky, about which until then he had no idea, and tomorrow he will return this map to you corrected.

Alyosha believed that Kolya would be improved by communicating with people like the Snegirevs. Kolya told Karamazov how his painful pride sometimes torments him. Sometimes it seems to the boy that the whole world is laughing at him, and in response he himself begins to torment those around him, especially his mother.

Alyosha noted that “the devil has embodied this pride and got into the whole generation,” and advised Kolya not to be like everyone else, especially since he is still capable of self-condemnation. He foresaw a difficult but blessed life for Kolya. Krasotkin admired Karamazov, especially because he spoke to him as an equal, and hoped for a long friendship.

Ilyusha

While Kolya and Karamazov were talking, the capital’s doctor examined Ilyusha, his sister, and mother and went out into the hallway. Krasotkin heard the doctor say that nothing depended on him now, but Ilyusha’s life could be extended if he was taken to Italy for at least a year. Not at all embarrassed by the poverty surrounding him, the doctor advised Snegirev to take his daughter to the Caucasus and his wife to a Paris psychiatric clinic.

Kolya was so angry at the speech of the arrogant doctor that he spoke rudely to him and called him “doctor.” Alyosha had to shout at Krasotkin. The doctor stamped his feet in anger and left, and the staff captain “shaked with silent sobs.”

Squeezing his head with both fists, he began to sob, squealing somehow absurdly, trying with all his might, however, so that his squeals would not be heard in the hut.

Ilyusha guessed what sentence the doctor gave him. He asked his father to take another boy after his death, and Kolya to come with Perezvon to his grave. Then the dying boy hugged Kolya and his father tightly.

Unable to bear it, Krasotkin hastily said goodbye, jumped out into the hallway and began to cry. Alyosha, who found him there, made the boy promise to come to Ilyusha as often as possible.

Very briefly, a beggar, unexpectedly orphaned boy ends up on Christ’s Christmas tree. The Christmas tree turns out to be his dying dreams. In the morning his little corpse is found.

Boy with a pen

In front of the tree and on the tree the narrator constantly sees little boy“with a pen” is the name given to those who beg for alms. These little beggars come from dysfunctional families, and their future is as bleak as the present of their parents - drunkenness, theft, an unhappy family and eternally hungry children.

Boy at Christ's Christmas tree

A little boy, about six years old, wakes up in a damp and cold basement. He is very hungry and tries to wake up his sick mother. He doesn’t succeed, because his mother died, but the boy does not yet understand what death is. He is only surprised by his mother’s cold and motionless face.

Without waking her up, he goes outside. Wandering around the city, the boy looks into the windows, in one he sees a girl dancing with a boy, in the other - four ladies who give pies to everyone who comes. The boy also entered their house. One of the ladies hastily hands him a penny and opens the door herself. The frightened boy drops the coin and runs away.

He comes across a crowd of people watching puppet show which he really likes. But soon he is beaten by an older boy. The child is forced to run away.

Running into the gateway, he settles down to get some firewood. He feels warm and good. The boy hears a voice inviting him to the Christmas tree. He sees a magnificent Christmas tree and many joyful boys and girls. He himself rejoices and has fun being next to them. These are children like him who died in early age for various reasons (some froze, others suffocated).

In the morning, janitors find the body of a frozen little boy, and a little later they find the body of his mother, who died a little earlier.

Preface

We are still continuing our conversation with very Orthodox lady.

Okay, Lev Nikolaevich didn’t please you - he refused intermediary services between yourself and God. But Fyodor Mikhailovich is valued by the Russian Orthodox Church, isn’t it?

„Feodor Mikhailovich Dostoevsky is a great Russian writer who penetrated into the most intimate depths of man, who described the complex and important questions the meaning of life, the existence of God, the relationship between human freedom and Divine justice.”

So turn to creativity „ great Russian writer”, as your Patriarch Kirill described him. Correctly, we note, he characterized it.

However, the writer has written a lot not only about “ existence of God”, but also about the life of ordinary Russian people. Without which there would be neither you, nor Russia, nor, especially, the crunch of French rolls. Only from afar could it be heard by Russian children, hungry and freezing...

And what kind of Russia did the White Guards fight for? „ Truly Russian people", how do you say. And it would be even more accurate to say “ Les vrais Russes", is not it?!! So which one, this one, which was masterfully written by the pen of a genius?

Oh yes, in Dostoevsky’s story it’s not Russians, not people, but so, “ bastard”, as you put it.

***

F.M. Dostoevsky

But I am a novelist, and, it seems, I composed one “story” myself. Why do I write: “it seems”, because I myself probably know what I wrote, but I keep imagining that this happened somewhere and sometime, this is exactly what happened just before Christmas, in some huge city and in the terrible frost.

I imagine there was a boy in the basement, but he was still very small, about six years old or even younger. This boy woke up in the morning in a damp and cold basement. He was dressed in some kind of robe and was shaking. His breath flew out in white steam, and he, sitting in the corner on a chest, out of boredom, deliberately let this steam out of his mouth and amused himself by watching it fly out. But he really wanted to eat.

Several times in the morning he approached the bunk, where his sick mother lay on a thin bedding like a pancake and on some kind of bundle under her head instead of a pillow. How did she end up here? She must have arrived with her boy from a foreign city and suddenly fell ill. The owner of the corners was captured by the police two days ago; the tenants scattered, it was a holiday, and the only one left, the robe, had been lying dead drunk for the whole day, without even waiting for the holiday.

In another corner of the room, some eighty-year-old old woman, who had once lived somewhere as a nanny, but was now dying alone, was moaning from rheumatism, groaning, grumbling and grumbling at the boy, so that he was already afraid to come close to her corner. He got something to drink somewhere in the entryway, but couldn’t find a crust anywhere and went up to wake up his mother for the tenth time. He finally felt terrified in the darkness: evening had long since begun, but the fire had not been lit.

Feeling his mother’s face, he was amazed that she did not move at all and became as cold as a wall. “ It's very cold here“, he thought, stood for a while, unconsciously forgetting his hand on the deceased woman’s shoulder, then he breathed on his fingers to warm them up, and suddenly, groping for his cap on the bunk, slowly, gropingly, he walked out of the basement. He would have gone even earlier, but he was still afraid of the big dog upstairs, on the stairs, which had been howling all day at the neighbors’ doors. But the dog was no longer there, and he suddenly went outside.

- Lord, what a city! He had never seen anything like this before. Where he came from, it’s so dark at night, there’s only one streetlight for the entire street. Low wooden houses are closed with shutters; on the street, as soon as it gets dark, there is no one, everyone shuts up in their homes, and only whole packs of dogs howl, hundreds and thousands of them, howl and bark all night. But there it was so warm and they gave him something to eat, but here - Lord, if only he could eat!

And what a knock and thunder there is, what light and people, horses and carriages, and frost, frost! Frozen steam rises from the driven horses, from their hot breathing muzzles; Horseshoes ring on the stones through the loose snow, and everyone is pushing so hard, and, Lord, I really want to eat, even just a piece of something, and my fingers suddenly hurt so much. A peace officer walked by and turned away so as not to notice the boy.

Here is the street again - oh, so wide! Here they will probably be crushed like that; how they all scream, run and drive, and the light, the light! And what's that? Wow, what a big glass, and behind the glass there is a room, and in the room there is wood up to the ceiling; this is a Christmas tree, and on the tree there are so many lights, so many golden pieces of paper and apples, and all around there are dolls and little horses; and children are running around the room, dressed up, clean, laughing and playing, and eating, and drinking something. This girl started dancing with the boy, what a pretty girl! Here comes the music, you can hear it through the glass.

The boy looks, marvels, and even laughs, but his fingers and toes are already hurting, and his hands have become completely red, they no longer bend and it hurts to move. And suddenly the boy remembered that his fingers hurt so much, he began to cry and ran on, and again he saw through another glass a room, again there were trees, but on the tables there were all kinds of pies - almond, red, yellow, and four people were sitting there. rich ladies, and whoever comes, they give him pies, and the door opens every minute, many gentlemen come in from the street.

The boy crept up, suddenly opened the door and entered. Wow, how they shouted and waved at him! One lady quickly came up and put a penny in his hand, and she opened the door to the street for him. How scared he was! And the penny immediately rolled out and rang down the steps: he could not bend his red fingers and hold it. The boy ran out and went as quickly as possible, but he didn’t know where. He wants to cry again, but he’s too afraid, and he runs and runs and blows on his hands.

And melancholy takes over him, because he suddenly felt so lonely and terrible, and suddenly, Lord! So what is this again? People stand in a crowd and marvel; On the window behind the glass there are three dolls, small, dressed in red and green dresses and very, very lifelike! Some old man sits and seems to be playing a large violin, two others stand right there and play small violins, and shake their heads to the beat, and look at each other, and their lips move, they talk, they really talk - only now You can't hear it because of the glass. And at first the boy thought that they were alive, but when he realized that they were dolls, he suddenly laughed. He had never seen such dolls and did not know that such existed! And he wants to cry, but the dolls are so funny.

Suddenly it seemed to him that someone grabbed him by the robe from behind: a big, angry boy stood nearby and suddenly hit him on the head, tore off his cap, and kicked him from below. The boy rolled to the ground, then they screamed, he was stunned, he jumped up and ran and ran, and suddenly he ran into he doesn’t know where, into a gateway, into someone else’s yard, and sat down behind some firewood: “ They won't find you here, and it's dark”.

He sat down and huddled, but he couldn’t catch his breath from fear, and suddenly, quite suddenly, he felt so good: his arms and legs suddenly stopped hurting and it became so warm, so warm, like on a stove; Now he shuddered all over: oh, but he was about to fall asleep! How nice it is to fall asleep here: “I’ll sit here and go look at the dolls again,” the boy thought and grinned, remembering them, “just like they’re alive!” And suddenly he heard his mother singing a song above him. - Mom, I’m sleeping, oh, how good it is to sleep here!

“Let’s go to my Christmas tree, boy,” a quiet voice suddenly whispered above him. He thought it was all his mother, but no, not her; He doesn’t see who called him, but someone bent over him and hugged him in the darkness, and he extended his hand and... and suddenly, - oh, what a light! Oh, what a tree! And it’s not a Christmas tree, he’s never seen such trees before! Where is he now: everything glitters, everything shines and there are all dolls all around - but no, these are all boys and girls, only so bright, they all circle around him, fly, they all kiss him, take him, carry him with them, yes and he himself flies, and he sees: his mother is looking and laughing at him joyfully.

- Mother! Mother! Oh, how nice it is here, mom! - the boy shouts to her, and again kisses the children, and he wants to tell them as soon as possible about those dolls behind the glass. -Who are you, boys? Who are you girls? he asks, laughing and loving them.

“This is Christ’s Christmas tree,” they answer him. - Christ always has a Christmas tree on this day for little children who don’t have their own Christmas tree... - And he found out that these boys and girls were all just like him, children, but some were still frozen in their baskets, in which they were thrown onto the stairs to the doors of St. Petersburg officials, others suffocated in the chukhonkas, from the orphanage while being fed, others died at the withered breasts of their mothers (during the Samara famine), others suffocated in third-class carriages from the stench, and yet they now here, they are all now like angels, they are all with Christ, and he himself is in the midst of them, and stretches out his hands to them, and blesses them and their sinful mothers...

And the mothers of these children all stand right there, on the sidelines, and cry; everyone recognizes their boy or girl, and they fly up to them and kiss them, wipe away their tears with their hands and beg them not to cry, because they feel so good here...

And downstairs, the next morning, the janitors found the small corpse of a boy who had run and frozen to collect firewood; We also found his mother...

She died before him; both met with the Lord God in Heaven.

***

Since we have outlined the Preface, we will conclude the publication with a short Afterword.

Afterword
The most powerful story. Not so much a story as a living testimony to the reality that took place in a happy for some Tsarist Russia.

It’s just that the position is unclear awesome Orthodox citizens. If the Patriarch and the bishops rightly evaluate the work of the genius Dostoevsky, then why shouldn’t the Russian Orthodox Church begin a broad public discussion about how the people, the vast majority of them, lived under the tsars?

It's clear, and history has confirmed this to us that for the Russian Orthodox Church the last tsar, Nicholas II, was a useless ruler. Otherwise how could I Holy Synod renounce him so easily?

And swear allegiance to the Jew Kerensky, the head of the Provisional Government?

Although... why throw beads... After all, the same Russian Orthodox Church of the same Tsar Nicholas II, which she renounced, with the same holy ease subsequently canonized...

Truly inscrutable moral ways awesome Orthodox...

***

P.S. And why are liberals criticizing on par with the Russian Orthodox Church Soviet period of Russian history, they will not say a word about the “tears of children” shed by millions and millions in those royal conditions? Conditions, changed precisely by the Soviet government?

But I am a novelist, and it seems that I composed one “story” myself. Why do I write: “it seems”, because I myself probably know what I wrote, but I keep imagining that this happened somewhere and once, this is exactly what happened just before Christmas, in some huge city and in terrible frost.

I imagine there was a boy in the basement, but he was still very small, about six years old or even younger. This boy woke up in the morning in a damp and cold basement. He was dressed in some kind of robe and was shaking. His breath flew out in white steam, and he, sitting in the corner on a chest, out of boredom, deliberately let this steam out of his mouth and amused himself by watching it fly out. But he really wanted to eat. Several times in the morning he approached the bunk, where his sick mother lay on a thin bedding like a pancake and on some kind of bundle under her head instead of a pillow. How did she end up here? She must have arrived with her boy from a foreign city and suddenly fell ill. The owner of the corners was captured by the police two days ago; the tenants scattered, it was a holiday, and the only one left, the robe, had been lying dead drunk for the whole day, without even waiting for the holiday. In another corner of the room, some eighty-year-old old woman, who had once lived somewhere as a nanny, but was now dying alone, was moaning from rheumatism, groaning, grumbling and grumbling at the boy, so that he was already afraid to come close to her corner. He got something to drink somewhere in the entryway, but couldn’t find a crust anywhere and went up to wake up his mother for the tenth time. He finally felt terrified in the darkness: evening had long since begun, but the fire had not been lit. Feeling his mother’s face, he was amazed that she did not move at all and became as cold as a wall. “It’s very cold here,” he thought, stood for a while, unconsciously forgetting his hand on the deceased woman’s shoulder, then he breathed on his fingers to warm them up, and suddenly fumbling for his cap on the bunk, slowly, gropingly, he left the basement. He would have gone earlier, but he was still afraid of the big dog upstairs, on the stairs, which had been howling all day at the neighbor’s door. But the dog was no longer there, and he suddenly went out into the street.

Lord, what a city! He had never seen anything like this before. Where he came from, it’s so dark at night, there’s only one streetlight for the entire street. Low wooden houses are closed with shutters; on the street, as soon as it gets dark, there is no one, everyone shuts up in their homes, and only whole packs of dogs howl, hundreds and thousands of them, howl and bark all night. But there it was so warm and they gave him something to eat, but here - Lord, if only he could eat! And what a knock and thunder there is, what light and people, horses and carriages, and frost, frost! Frozen steam rises from the driven horses, from their hot breathing muzzles; Horseshoes ring on the stones through the loose snow, and everyone is pushing so hard, and, Lord, I really want to eat, even just a piece of something, and my fingers suddenly hurt so much. A peace officer walked by and turned away so as not to notice the boy.

Here is the street again - oh, how wide! Here they will probably be crushed like that; how they all scream, run and drive, and the light, the light! And what's that? Wow, what a big glass, and behind the glass there is a room, and in the room there is wood up to the ceiling; this is a Christmas tree, and on the tree there are so many lights, so many golden pieces of paper and apples, and all around there are dolls and little horses; and children are running around the room, dressed up, clean, laughing and playing, and eating, and drinking something. This girl started dancing with the boy, what a pretty girl! Here comes the music, you can hear it through the glass. The boy looks, marvels, and even laughs, but his fingers and toes are already hurting, and his hands have become completely red, they no longer bend and it hurts to move. And suddenly the boy remembered that his fingers hurt so much, he cried and ran on, and now again he sees through another glass a room, again there are trees, but on the tables there are all kinds of pies - almond, red, yellow, and four people are sitting there rich ladies, and whoever comes, they give him pies, and the door opens every minute, many gentlemen come in from the street. The boy crept up, suddenly opened the door and entered. Wow, how they shouted and waved at him! One lady quickly came up and put a penny in his hand, and she opened the door to the street for him. How scared he was! And the penny immediately rolled out and rang down the steps: he could not bend his red fingers and hold it. The boy ran out and went as quickly as possible, but he didn’t know where. He wants to cry again, but he’s too afraid, and he runs and runs and blows on his hands. And melancholy takes over him, because he suddenly felt so lonely and terrible, and suddenly, Lord! So what is this again? People stand in a crowd and marvel; On the window behind the glass there are three dolls, small, dressed in red and green dresses and very, very lifelike! Some old man sits and seems to be playing a large violin, two others stand right there and play small violins, and shake their heads to the beat, and look at each other, and their lips move, they talk, they really talk - only now You can't hear it because of the glass. And at first the boy thought that they were alive, but when he realized that they were dolls, he suddenly laughed. He had never seen such dolls and did not know that such existed! And he wants to cry, but the dolls are so funny. Suddenly it seemed to him that someone grabbed him by the robe from behind: a big, angry boy stood nearby and suddenly hit him on the head, tore off his cap, and kicked him from below. The boy rolled to the ground, then they screamed, he was stupefied, he jumped up and ran and ran, and suddenly he ran into he doesn’t know where, into a gateway, into someone else’s yard, and sat down behind some firewood: “They won’t find anyone here, and it’s dark.”

He sat down and huddled, but he couldn’t catch his breath from fear, and suddenly, quite suddenly, he felt so good: his arms and legs suddenly stopped hurting and it became so warm, so warm, like on a stove; Now he shuddered all over: oh, but he was about to fall asleep! How nice it is to fall asleep here: “I’ll sit here and go look at the dolls again,” the boy thought and grinned, remembering them, “just like they’re alive!” And suddenly he heard his mother singing a song above him: “Mom, I’m sleeping, oh, how good it is to sleep here!”

“Let’s go to my Christmas tree, boy,” a quiet voice suddenly whispered above him. He thought it was all his mother, but no, not her; He doesn’t see who called him, but someone bent over him and hugged him in the darkness, and he extended his hand and... and suddenly - oh, what a light! Oh, what a tree! And it’s not a Christmas tree, he’s never seen such trees before! Where is he now: everything glitters, everything shines and there are all dolls all around - but no, these are all boys and girls, only so bright, they all circle around him, fly, they all kiss him, take him, carry him with them, yes and he himself flies, and he sees: his mother is looking and laughing at him joyfully.

Mother! Mother! Oh, how nice it is here, mom! - the boy shouts to her, and again kisses the children, and he wants to tell them as soon as possible about those dolls behind the glass. - Who are you, boys? Who are you girls? - he asks, laughing and loving them.

“This is Christ’s Christmas tree,” they answer him. - Christ always has a Christmas tree on this day for little children who don’t have their own Christmas tree... - And he found out that these boys and girls were all the same as him, children, but some were still frozen in their baskets, in which they were thrown onto the stairs to the doors of St. Petersburg officials, others suffocated in the chukhonkas, from the orphanage while being fed, others died at the withered breasts of their mothers (during the Samara famine), others suffocated in third-class carriages from the stench, and yet they are all here now , they are all now like angels, they are all with Christ, and he himself is in the midst of them, and stretches out his hands to them, and blesses them and their sinful mothers... And the mothers of these children are all standing right there, on the sidelines, and crying; each recognizes their boy or girl, and they fly up to them and kiss them, wipe away their tears with their hands and beg them not to cry, because they feel so good here... And below, the next morning, the janitors found the small corpse of a boy who had run in and froze to death behind the firewood; They also found his mother... She died before him; both met with the Lord God in Heaven.

Fedor Mikhailovich Dostoevsky

Boy at Christ's Christmas tree

Fedor Mikhailovich Dostoevsky

Boy at Christ's Christmas tree

Yule story

I. Boy with a pen

Children strange people, they dream and imagine. Before the Christmas tree and just before Christmas, I kept meeting on the street, on a certain corner, one boy, no more than seven years old. In the terrible frost, he was dressed almost like summer clothes, but his neck was tied with some old clothes, which means that someone had equipped him when they sent him. He walked “with a pen,” this is a technical term, which means to beg. The term was invented by these boys themselves. There are many like him, they spin on your road and howl something they have learned by heart; but this one did not howl and spoke somehow innocently and unusually and looked trustingly into my eyes - therefore, he was just starting his profession. In response to my questions, he said that he had a sister who was unemployed and ill; maybe it’s true, but only later did I find out that there are a lot of these boys: they are sent out “with a pen” even in the most terrible frost, and if they don’t get anything, then they will probably be beaten. Having collected kopecks, the boy returns with red, numb hands to some basement, where some gang of negligent workers are drinking, the same ones who, “having gone on strike at the factory on Sunday on Saturday, return to work no earlier than on Wednesday evening.” . There, in the basements, their hungry and beaten wives are drinking with them, and their hungry babies are squealing right there. Vodka, and dirt, and debauchery, and most importantly, vodka. With the collected pennies, the boy is immediately sent to the tavern, and he brings more wine. For fun, they sometimes pour a scythe into his mouth and laugh when, with his breathing stopped, he falls almost unconscious on the floor,

...And I put bad vodka in my mouth
He poured in mercilessly.

When he grows up, he is quickly sold off to a factory somewhere, but everything he earns, he is again obliged to bring to the careless workers, and they again drink away. But even before the factory, these children become complete criminals. They wander around the city and know places in different basements where they can crawl into and where they can spend the night unnoticed. One of them spent several nights in a row with one janitor in some kind of basket, and he never noticed him. Of course, they become thieves. Theft turns into a passion even among eight-year-old children, sometimes even without any consciousness of the criminality of the action. In the end they endure everything - hunger, cold, beatings - for only one thing, for freedom, and run away from their negligent people to wander away from themselves. This wild creature sometimes does not understand anything, neither where he lives, nor what nation he is, whether there is a God, whether there is a sovereign; even such people convey things about them that are incredible to hear, and yet they are all facts.

II. Boy at Christ's Christmas tree

But I am a novelist, and, it seems, I composed one “story” myself. Why am I writing; “It seems,” because I myself probably know what I wrote, but I keep imagining that this happened somewhere and sometime, this is exactly what happened just before Christmas, in some huge city and in a terrible frost.