Summary of Paustovsky warm bread in 5. Fairy tale “Warm bread

Warm bread

When the cavalrymen passed through the village of Berezhki, a German shell exploded on the outskirts and wounded a black horse in the leg. The commander left the wounded horse in the village, and the detachment went further, dusting and ringing the bits, left, rolled behind the groves, over the hills, where the wind shook the ripe rye.

The miller Pankrat took the horse. The mill has not worked for a long time, but the flour dust has forever eaten into Pankrat. She lay with a gray crust on his quilted jacket and cap. From under the cap, the quick eyes of the miller looked at everyone. Pankrat was an ambulance to work, an angry old man, and the guys considered him a sorcerer.

Pankrat cured the horse. The horse remained at the mill and patiently carried clay, manure and poles - helping Pankrat to repair the dam.

It was difficult for Pankrat to feed the horse, and the horse began to go around the yards to beg. He would stand, snort, knock with his muzzle on the gate, and, you see, they would bring him beet tops, or stale bread, or, it happened even, sweet carrots. It was said in the village that nobody's horse, or rather, a public one, and everyone considered it their duty to feed him. In addition, the horse is wounded, suffered from the enemy.

The boy Filka lived in Berezhki with his grandmother, nicknamed "Well, you." Filka was silent, incredulous, and his favorite expression was: "Come on!". Whether the neighbor's boy suggested that he walk on stilts or look for green cartridges, Filka answered in an angry bass: "Come on! Look for yourself!" When the grandmother reprimanded him for his unkindness, Filka turned away and muttered: "Come on, you! I'm tired!"

The winter was warm this year. Smoke hung in the air. Snow fell and immediately melted. Wet crows sat on the chimneys to dry off, jostled, croaked at each other. Near the mill flume, the water did not freeze, but stood black, still, and ice floes swirled in it.

Pankrat had repaired the mill by that time and was going to grind bread - the housewives complained that the flour was running out, each had two or three days left, and the grain lay unground.

On one of these warm gray days, the wounded horse knocked with his muzzle on the gate to Filka's grandmother. Grandmother was not at home, and Filka was sitting at the table and chewing a piece of bread, heavily sprinkled with salt.

Filka reluctantly got up and went out the gate. The horse shifted from foot to foot and reached for the bread. "Come on you! Devil!" - Filka shouted and hit the horse on the lips with a backhand. The horse staggered back, shook his head, and Filka threw the bread far into the loose snow and shouted:

You won’t get enough of you, Christ-lovers! There is your bread! Go dig it with your face from under the snow! Go dig!

And after this malicious shout, those amazing things happened in Berezhki, about which people still talk, shaking their heads, because they themselves do not know whether it was or nothing like that happened.

A tear rolled down from the horse's eyes. The horse neighed plaintively, drawlingly, waved its tail, and immediately howled in the bare trees, in the hedges and chimneys, a piercing wind whistled, snow blew up, powdered Filka's throat. Filka rushed back into the house, but could not find the porch in any way - it was already snowy all around and whipped into his eyes. Frozen straw flew from the roofs in the wind, birdhouses broke, torn shutters slammed. And columns of snow dust rose higher and higher from the surrounding fields, rushing to the village, rustling, spinning, overtaking each other.

Filka finally jumped into the hut, locked the door, said: "Come on!" - and listened. The blizzard roared, maddened, but through its roar Filka heard a thin and short whistle - this is how a horse's tail whistles when an angry horse hits its sides with it.

The blizzard began to subside in the evening, and only then was Grandmother Filkin able to get to her hut from her neighbor. And by nightfall, the sky turned green as ice, the stars froze to the vault of heaven, and a prickly frost passed through the village. No one saw him, but everyone heard the creak of his boots on the hard snow, heard how the frost, mischievous, squeezed the thick logs in the walls, and they cracked and burst.

The grandmother, crying, told Filka that the wells had probably already frozen over and now imminent death awaited them. There is no water, everyone has run out of flour, and now the mill will not be able to work, because the river has frozen to the very bottom.

Filka also wept with fear when the mice began to run out of the underground and bury themselves under the stove in the straw, where there was still a little warmth. "Come on you! Damned!" - he shouted at the mice, but the mice kept climbing out of the underground. Filka climbed onto the stove, covered himself with a sheepskin coat, shook all over and listened to the grandmother's lamentations.

A hundred years ago, the same severe frost fell on our district, - said the grandmother. - He froze wells, beat birds, dried forests and gardens to the roots. Ten years after that, neither trees nor grasses bloomed. The seeds in the ground withered and disappeared. Our land was naked. Every animal ran around her side - he was afraid of the desert.

Why did that frost strike? Filka asked.

From human malice, - answered the grandmother. - An old soldier was walking through our village, asked for bread in the hut, and the owner, an evil peasant, sleepy, noisy, take it and give me only a stale crust. And then he didn’t give it to his hands, but threw it on the floor and said: “Here you are! Chew!”. - "It's impossible for me to lift bread from the floor," the soldier says. "I have a piece of wood instead of a leg." - "Where did you put your leg?" - the man asks. "I lost my leg in the Balkan mountains in the Turkish battle" (1) - the soldier answers. "Nothing. Once you're hefty hungry, you'll get up," the peasant laughed. "There are no valets (2) for you here." The soldier groaned, contrived, lifted the crust and sees - this is not bread, but one green mold. One poison! Then the soldier went out into the yard, whistled - and at once a blizzard broke, a blizzard, the storm swirled the village, the roofs were torn off, and then a severe frost struck. And the man died.

Why did he die? Filka asked hoarsely.

From the cooling of the heart, - the grandmother answered, paused and added: - To know, and now a bad person, an offender, has wound up in Berezhki, and has done an evil deed. That's why it's cold.

What to do now, grandma? Filka asked from under his sheepskin coat. - Really die?

Why die? Need to hope.

That a bad person will correct his villainy.

And how to fix it? asked Filka, sobbing.

And Pankrat knows about it, the miller. He is a smart old man, a scientist. You need to ask him. Can you really run to the mill in such a cold? The bleeding will stop immediately.

Come on, Pankrat! - said Filka and fell silent.

At night he climbed down from the stove. Grandma was sleeping on the bench. Outside the windows, the air was blue, thick, terrible.

In the clear sky above the osokori (3) stood the moon, adorned like a bride, with pink crowns.

Filka wrapped his sheepskin coat around him, jumped out into the street and ran to the mill. The snow sang underfoot, as if an artel of merry sawyers sawed down a birch grove across the river. It seemed that the air froze and between the earth and the moon there was only one void - burning and so clear that if it lifted a speck of dust a kilometer from the earth, then it would be visible and it would glow and twinkle like a small star.

The black willows near the mill dam turned gray from the cold. Their branches gleamed like glass. The air pricked Filka's chest. He could no longer run, but walked heavily, raking the snow with his felt boots.

Filka knocked on the window of Pankrat's hut. Immediately in the barn behind the hut, a wounded horse neighed and beat with a hoof. Filka groaned, squatted down in fear, hid. Pankrat opened the door, grabbed Filka by the collar and dragged him into the hut.

Sit down by the stove, - he said. - Tell me before you freeze.

Filka, weeping, told Pankrat how he offended the wounded horse and how frost fell on the village because of this.

Yes, - Pankrat sighed, - your business is bad! It turns out that everyone is lost because of you. Why hurt the horse? For what? You stupid citizen!

Filka sniffled and wiped his eyes with his sleeve.

You stop crying! Pankrat said sternly. - Roar you all masters. A little naughty - now in a roar. But I just don't see the point in that. My mill stands as if sealed with frost forever, but there is no flour, and no water, and we don’t know what to think of.

What should I do now, grandfather Pankrat? Filka asked.

Invent salvation from the cold. Then the people will not be your fault. And in front of a wounded horse - too. You will be a pure person, cheerful. Everyone will pat you on the shoulder and forgive you. Clear?

Well, think of it. I'll give you an hour and a quarter.

A magpie lived in Pankrat's hallway. She did not sleep from the cold, sat on the collar - eavesdropped. Then she galloped sideways, looking around, to the gap under the door. Jumped out, jumped on the railing and flew straight south. The magpie was experienced, old, and purposely flew near the very ground, because from the villages and forests it still drew warmth and the magpie was not afraid to freeze. No one saw her, only a fox in an aspen hole (4) stuck her muzzle out of the hole, turned her nose, noticed how a magpie swept through the sky like a dark shadow, shied back into the hole and sat for a long time, scratching herself and thinking: where is it on such a terrible night gave forty?

And Filka at that time was sitting on a bench, fidgeting, inventing.

Well, - Pankrat said at last, trampling on a shag cigarette, - your time is up. Spread it! There will be no grace period.

I, grandfather Pankrat, - said Filka, - as soon as it dawns, I will gather the guys from all over the village. We will take crowbars, picks (5), axes, we will chop ice at the tray near the mill until we get to the water and it will flow onto the wheel. As the water goes, you let the mill! Turn the wheel twenty times, it will warm up and start grinding. There will be, therefore, flour, and water, and universal salvation.

Look, you are smart! - said the miller, - Under the ice, of course, there is water. And if the ice is as thick as your height, what will you do?

Yes, well, him! Filka said. - Let's break through, guys, and such ice!

What if you freeze?

We will burn fires.

And if the guys do not agree to pay for your nonsense with their hump? If they say: "Yes, well, it's his own fault - let the ice itself break off."

Agree! I will beg them. Our guys are good.

Well, go get the guys. And I'll talk with the old people. Maybe the old people will put on their mittens and take up the crowbars.

On frosty days, the sun rises crimson, in heavy smoke. And this morning such a sun rose over Berezhki. The frequent sound of crowbars was heard on the river. Fires crackled. The guys and old people worked from the very dawn, chipped off the ice at the mill. And no one in the heat of the moment noticed that in the afternoon the sky was overcast with low clouds and a steady and warm wind blew over the gray willows. And when they noticed that the weather had changed, the branches of the willows had already thawed, and the wet birch grove rustled merrily, loudly behind the river. The air smelled of spring, of manure.

The wind was blowing from the south. It got warmer every hour. Icicles fell from the roofs and smashed with a clang.

The ravens crawled out from under the jams (6) and again dried themselves on the pipes, pushed, croaked.

Only the old magpie was missing. She arrived in the evening, when the ice began to settle from the warmth, work at the mill went quickly and the first polynya with dark water appeared.

The boys pulled off their triplets and cheered. Pankrat said that if it were not for the warm wind, then, perhaps, the guys and old people would not have chipped the ice. And the magpie was sitting on a willow above the dam, chirping, shaking its tail, bowing in all directions and telling something, but no one but the crows understood it. And the magpie said that she flew to the warm sea, where the summer wind was sleeping in the mountains, woke him up, cracked him about the severe frost and begged him to drive away this frost, to help people.

The wind seemed not to dare to refuse her, the magpie, and blew, rushed over the fields, whistling and laughing at the frost. And if you listen carefully, you can already hear how warm water boils and gurgles along the ravines under the snow, washes the roots of lingonberries, breaks ice on the river.

Everyone knows that the magpie is the most talkative bird in the world, and therefore the crows did not believe her - they only croaked among themselves: that, they say, the old one was lying again.

So, until now, no one knows whether the magpie spoke the truth, or whether she invented all this from boasting. Only one thing is known that by the evening the ice cracked, dispersed, the guys and old people pressed - and water poured into the mill flume with a noise.

The old wheel creaked - icicles fell from it - and slowly turned. The millstones gnashed, then the wheel turned faster, and suddenly the whole old mill shook, started shaking and began to knock, creak, grind grain.

Pankrat poured grain, and hot flour poured from under the millstone into sacks. The women dipped their chilled hands into it and laughed.

Ringing birch firewood was chopping in all the yards. The huts glowed from the hot stove fire. The women were kneading the tight sweet dough. And everything that was alive in the huts - guys, cats, even mice - all this was spinning around the housewives, and the housewives slapped the guys on the back with a hand white from flour, so that they would not climb into the very mess and interfere.

At night, there was such a smell of warm bread with a ruddy crust, with cabbage leaves burnt to the bottom, that even the foxes crawled out of their holes, sat in the snow, trembled and whined softly, thinking how to manage to steal from people at least a piece of this wonderful bread.

The next morning, Filka came with the guys to the mill. The wind drove on blue sky loose clouds and did not allow them to take a breath for a minute, and therefore, alternately cold shadows, then hot sunspots rushed across the earth.

Filka was dragging a loaf of fresh bread, and a very small boy, Nikolka, was holding a wooden salt shaker with coarse yellow salt. Pankrat came out on the threshold and asked:

What is the phenomenon? Would you bring me some bread and salt? For what such merits?

Well no! - shouted the guys. - You will be special. And this is a wounded horse. From Filka. We want to reconcile them.

Well, - said Pankrat, - not only a person needs an apology. Now I will introduce you to the horse in kind.

Pankrat opened the gates of the shed and released his horse. The horse came out, stretched out his head, neighed - he smelled the smell of fresh bread. Filka broke the loaf, salted the bread from the salt shaker and handed it to the horse. But the horse did not take the bread, began to finely sort it out with his feet, and backed into the barn. Filka was scared. Then Filka wept loudly in front of the whole village.

The guys whispered and fell silent, and Pankrat patted the horse on the neck and said:

Don't be scared, Boy! Filka is not evil person. Why offend him? Take bread, put up!

The horse shook his head, thought, then carefully stretched out his neck and finally took the bread from Filka's hands with soft lips. He ate one piece, sniffed Filka and took the second piece. Filka grinned through his tears, and the horse chewed bread and snorted. And when he ate all the bread, he put his head on Filka's shoulder, sighed and closed his eyes from satiety and pleasure.

Everyone smiled and rejoiced. Only the old magpie sat on the willow and cracked angrily: she must have boasted again that she alone managed to reconcile the horse with Filka. But no one listened to her and did not understand, and the magpie became more and more angry from this and cracked like a machine gun.

(1) We are talking about the wars with Turkey (1877-1878) for the liberation of Bulgaria and other countries of the Balkan Peninsula.

(2) A valet is a servant.

(3) Osokor - a tree, a kind of poplar.

(4) Yar - a ravine with steep slopes.

(5) Icepick - a heavy crowbar on a wooden handle for breaking through ice.

(6) Fences - the lower edges of the roof.

« warm bread"resembles very little a fairy tale, because the village of Berezhki, and main character- the boy Filka, and the wise old miller Pankrat could actually exist. And the terrible snowstorm and bitter cold, caused by Filka's rude and thoughtless act, could well turn out to be an ordinary coincidence. Ordinary - but not really.

About what in question in this strange tale? The old miller Pankrat cured a warhorse wounded in the leg, which was left in the village by passing cavalrymen. The horse, in turn, patiently helped the miller to repair the dam - it was winter outside, people were running out of flour, so it was necessary to repair the mill as soon as possible.

Filka's grandmother told the hushed and frightened boy that the same severe frost fell on the village a hundred years ago, when an evil man undeservedly and bitterly offended an old crippled soldier. The land after that frost turned into a desert for ten years - gardens did not bloom, forests dried up, animals and birds hid and fled. And the evil man died "from the cold of the heart."

Filka's heart ached from the consciousness of his guilt, the boy realized that only he could correct the mistake he had made, but he did not know how. Grandmother was sure that Pankrat should know about this, because "he is a cunning old man, a scientist."

At night, not afraid of the bitter cold, Fil-ka ran to the miller, and he advised him to "invent a salvation from the cold." Then the guilt both before the horse and before the people will be smoothed out, and Filka will again become a “pure person”. The boy thought and thought and came up with the idea to gather in the morning the guys from all over the village with axes and crowbars in order to break the ice on the river near the mill until water appeared. And so they did. At dawn, people from all over the village gathered to help the guys, Filka apologized to them as best he could, and everyone set to work. Soon it got warmer, things began to move faster, and people got to the water. The wheel of the mill turned, the women brought unground grain, and hot flour poured from under the millstone. Everyone was happy, and Filka most of all. But he still had one more thing to do, deep in his heart sat a splinter of guilt before an undeservedly offended horse. material from the site

All over the village that evening they baked fragrant sweet bread with a golden crust. The next morning, Filka took a loaf of warm bread, grabbed his friends for support and went to the horse to put up. He broke the loaf, heavily salted the slice, and handed it to the horse. But the horse, remembering the unfair words, did not take the bread and backed away. Filka was afraid that the horse would not forgive him, and began to cry. Kind Pankrat calmed the horse and explained that "the boy Filka is not an evil person." So a solemn truce was concluded, the horse ate the bread, and the forgiven boy was happy.

It seems to me that Paustovsky was able to tell a lot about the relationship between people, about their responsibility for their words and deeds. Everything in the world is interconnected, and the consequences of Filka's actions at the beginning of the tale had to be corrected by enlisting the help of the people of the entire village. The story teaches us to be kind, sympathetic and not be afraid to ask for forgiveness for the offenses caused to others.

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Paustovsky K. fairy tale "Warm bread"

Genre: literary fairy tale

The main characters of the fairy tale "Warm Bread" and their characteristics

Filka "Well, you." A gloomy, unsociable, harmful, angry boy. He corrected himself when he realized what his anger could lead to.
Pankrat, miller, sorcerer. Smart, kind, understanding, hardworking.
Horse. He was wounded, an ordinary affectionate horse.
Grandma Filka. Old woman, a connoisseur of folk legends.

Plan for retelling the fairy tale "Warm Bread"

wounded horse
Boy Filka
Resentment
freezing
Grandma's story
Filka at Pankrat's
Magpie goes south
Filka's decision
shock labor
Warm wind
Return of the magpie
Flour and bread
Reconciliation with the horse.

The shortest content of the fairy tale "Warm Bread" for reader's diary in 6 sentences

Once the boy Filka hit and scolded a horse that asked him for bread.
After that, a terrible frost came and the water in the river froze to the bottom.
Grandmother talks about a legless soldier and his curse
Filka asks Pankrat for advice on what to do
Filka with the guys and old people cuts the ice, and a warm wind blows
They baked warm bread and Filka reconciled with the horse.

The main idea of the fairy tale "Warm bread"
We must live not for ourselves, but for others.

What does the fairy tale "Warm bread" teach
This fairy tale teaches us to be kind, sympathetic, not greedy and not harmful. It teaches that any offense can be corrected, can be atoned for by repentance and honest work. teaches that together we can do anything. It teaches that every person deserves his chance to improve.

Review of the fairy tale "Warm bread"
I really liked this work, which the author called a fairy tale true story. And indeed, it bizarrely combines elements of the real and fairy worlds. It has smart animals and an evil curse, it has ordinary people with their troubles and worries.
I really liked the way the boy Filka suddenly had his sight and realized that it was impossible to live like this. That he began to worry about others and thereby became a good person.

Proverbs to the fairy tale "Warm bread"
The whole family is together, and the soul is in place.
There was guilt, yes forgiven.
The guilty are forgiven, and the right are favored.
Eyebrows hung, anger at the thought.
Will and work give wonderful shoots.

Read the summary brief retelling fairy tales "Warm bread"
Once in the village of Berezhki a wounded horse appeared, which was left by the Red Army. The horse was taken in by the miller Pankrat, whom the boys considered a sorcerer. He got out of the horse and he began to help the miller repair the dam.
But Pankrat could not feed the horse, and therefore the horse walked throughout the village and everyone considered it his duty to treat the horse with something.
The boy Filka also lived in the village, who was nicknamed "Well, you" because he did not believe in anything and did not play with anyone.
The winter was warm, Pankrat finally repaired the mill and was going to grind bread, because everyone was running out of flour.
And somehow the horse knocked on Filka's gate. Filka reluctantly got up from the table, went out with bread and suddenly hit the horse on the lips. Then he scolded him angrily and threw a piece of bread right into the snow.
And then this story happened.
A tear rolled down from the horse's eyes, he neighed plaintively, and suddenly a strong wind with snow blew. Filka barely found the porch and with difficulty locked the door. And at night the sky became starry and a terrible frost hit. The river froze to the very bottom, even the wells froze, and certain death awaited the village. Filka wept with fear, and his grandmother, lamenting, told how a terrible frost also happened a hundred years ago and half of the village froze.
The reason for this was human malice. It turns out that then a legless soldier was walking through the village and asked for bread. And the owner angrily threw him a crust on the floor, but not a normal piece, but one poisonous mold. And then the soldier came out onto the porch, and how he whistled. And a severe frost hit, and the greedy man was the first to die.
And the grandmother also said that now, apparently, an evil person has wound up in the village, and until he corrects his guilt, the frost will not stop. And only Pankrat knows how to correct the guilt.
At night, Filka went to Pankrat and told about his guilt. Pankrat sighed sadly and called Filka a senseless citizen. And then he gave Filka an hour to think about how to save the village from the cold.
This conversation was overheard by a magpie who lived with Pankrat. She took off and hurriedly headed south. But no one noticed her, except for the fox.
And Filka came up with the idea of gathering all the guys and gouging the ice at the mill so that the dam spun. The frosts and the thickness of the ice did not frighten him - you can burn fires and then we will definitely cut through, he assured.
And in the morning in Berezhki, both old and young gathered near the mill, and began to pound the ice. No one noticed in the heat of the moment that a warm wind blew and smelled of manure.
Water ran from the roofs and icicles hung.
Only in the evening did the magpie return, when a huge hole appeared at the mill and it started working. Pankrat praised the warm wind, and the magpie told everyone that she flew south and woke up the warm wind, but no one except the raven understood her.
And then flour fell from the mill. In the houses of the hostesses, the dough was kneaded and the smell of warm fresh bread was everywhere.
And the next morning, Filka came to the mill to the horse. He broke a loaf of bread, salted it and handed it to the horse. And the horse shied away from him. But Pankrat sternly told the horse that Filka was not an evil person, and that he should be reconciled with him. Then the horse carefully ate one piece, took the second and laid his head on Filka's shoulder.
Everyone smiled and rejoiced, and the magpie again chattered something of its own.

Drawings and illustrations for the fairy tale "Warm bread"

The story "Warm Bread" by Paustovsky was written in 1954, when memories of the horrors of war were still alive in people's memory. This is a wonderful tale that teaches love, mercy and forgiveness.

main characters

Filka- a gloomy, unsociable boy, in whose heart there was no kindness either to animals or to people.

Other characters

Pankrat- an old miller, a wise, practical, sensible man.

Grandmother- Filka's own grandmother, a kind and sensitive woman.

When a cavalry detachment passed near the village of Berezhki, a German shell exploded, and a fragment "wounded a black horse in the leg." The detachment commander had no choice but to leave him in the village and continue on his way.

The wounded horse was taken by the old miller Pankrat, whom the local children considered a sorcerer. The old man managed to get out of the horse, which became his faithful assistant and "patiently carried clay, manure and poles - helped Pankrat repair the dam."

It was hard for the miller to feed the horse, and soon he began to walk around the village, begging for food from the locals. Many felt sorry for the smart animal that had suffered in the war, and fed him with what they could.

In Berezhki lived with his grandmother "the boy Filka, nicknamed Well you." He was a gloomy, withdrawn guy who, on business and idle, inserted his favorite phrase into the conversation - “Come on! ', which is why they called him that.

By the beginning of winter, Pankrat managed to repair the mill. There was very little flour left in the village, and the miller was going to immediately start threshing bread.

Just at this time, a wounded horse wandered around the village in search of food. He "knocked with his muzzle on the gate to Filkin's grandmother." The boy reluctantly went out into the yard. In his hands he held a half-eaten piece of bread sprinkled with salt. The horse was about to reach for the bread, but Filka "hit the horse's mouth with a backhand" and threw the loaf into the snowdrift.

The horse neighed plaintively, a tear rolled from his eyes. Suddenly a strong wind arose, a blizzard swept up. Filka hardly reached the hut. Through the roar of the mad wind, the boy seemed to hear “a thin and short whistle - this is how a ponytail whistles when an angry horse hits its sides with it.”

The blizzard subsided only in the evening. Arriving home, Filkin's grandmother said that all the water in the village had frozen. The severe frost that hit Berezhki at night caused alarm among local residents - if the weather does not change, famine will come. Everyone is running out of flour, the water in the river has frozen, and the mill cannot work.

It was so cold in the hut that mice began to crawl out of the cellar to hide "under the stove in the straw, where there was still some warmth." Filka began to cry with fear, and the grandmother, in order to calm her grandson, began to tell him a long story.

One day, a great misfortune happened in their area - a severe frost that killed all life. And the reason for this was human malice - when an old poor man, a crippled soldier, asked a wealthy peasant for bread, he threw a stale piece on the ground. With difficulty lifting the bread from the ground, the elderly soldier noticed that it was covered with green mold and it was impossible to eat it. At the same moment, “a blizzard broke, a blizzard, the storm swirled the village, the roofs tore off,” and the greedy peasant died immediately.

Filka's grandmother is sure that this time the reason for the severe frost was an evil man who appeared in the village. The only hope is that “a bad person will correct his villainy”, and only a wise and omniscient miller can help in this.

At night, Filka, taking a quilted jacket with him, rushed to Pankrat with all his might. He honestly admitted that he offended the horse. The miller explained to the boy that he would be able to atone for his guilt before the wounded horse and people if he invented "salvation from the cold."

Filka decided to gather all the guys he knew and break the ice on the river together to make the mill work. At dawn, the guys and old people gathered, and on the river there was a “frequent knock of crowbars”. During the friendly work, no one noticed how the weather changed for the better - a warm wind blew, the branches on the trees thawed, and it smelled of spring.

By evening, the ice had broken, and the mill was in full operation. The inhabitants of Berezhki were very pleased - in every house there was a smell of "the smell of warm bread with a golden crust".

The next morning, Filka came to Pankrat with a whole loaf of fresh bread to feed his horse. At first, he did not want to accept a treat from the hands of the offender, but the miller persuaded him to make peace with the boy. Having eaten all the bread, the wounded horse "put his head on Filka's shoulder, sighed and closed his eyes from satiety and pleasure."

Conclusion

With his book, Konstantin Paustovsky wanted to remind readers how important it is to be kind and sensitive to someone else's misfortune, not to remain indifferent and show mercy.

After reading a brief retelling of "Warm Bread", we recommend that you read Paustovsky's story in the full version.

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Retelling rating

Average rating: 4.6. Total ratings received: 782.

The story takes place during the Civil War.

A cavalry detachment passed through the village of Berezhki. One horse was wounded in the leg by a German shell. The commander left this horse in the village in the care of the inhabitants. The miller Pankrat, an angry old man, whom the guys considered a sorcerer, took care of him. But everyone in the village considered it his duty to feed the horse with something. And he got so used to it that he walked down the street from house to house, snorting, banging his muzzle on the gate. And they brought him some beet tops, some carrots, some a piece of stale bread.

There lived in this village an orphan boy named Filka, and nicknamed "Well, you." He was silent, incredulous. Everyone and always answered any proposal: “Yes, well, you.” That's what they called him. Filka lived with his grandmother, who often grumbled at him, and he muttered: “Come on! Tired." That year the winter was not cold. Snow fell and immediately melted. Near the mill, the water did not freeze. Pankrat repaired the mill. The whole village was getting ready to grind bread, as everyone was already running out of flour.

One afternoon, a wounded horse knocked on the gate of the house where Filka lived. He sat at the table and ate bread sprinkled with salt. Grandmother was not at home, and the boy got up to see who was there. The horse reached for the bread. And Filka angrily shouted his favorite phrase and hit the horse on the lips with a backhand. The unsuspecting horse recoiled. And the boy threw the bread far into the snow and angrily said that you won’t get enough for all the Christ-lovers.

After this cry, amazing events took place in Berezhki. Tears rolled from the horse's eyes. He whinnied and wagged his tail. And at the same time, the wind howled in the branches of the trees, in the chimneys, it began to snow. There was such a blizzard that nothing could be seen. Filka ran into the house, finding the porch with difficulty. He heard through the roar of the storm, as if a horse was beating its sides with its tail.

Only in the evening the blizzard subsided a little, and the grandmother returned home. By nightfall a bitter cold had set in. Grandmother began to cry and said that now the river was frozen and it would be impossible for people to grind the grain. There will be famine and death in the village. Filka wept in fright and huddled up on the stove. The grandmother said that it was clear that an evil person had wound up in their village, that such a frost had already happened a hundred years ago.

She said that at that time a wounded soldier without a leg was walking through the village. I went into one hut and asked for bread. And the owner took the stale crust, threw it on the floor and told the soldier to take it and eat it. The soldier said he couldn't bend over and pick up bread. Because he has no legs. To which the man replied: “If you are very hungry, then you will raise it. There are no servants here." The soldier somehow raised the bread. And you can’t eat it, because it’s all moldy. A soldier came out and whistled. And at the same moment a storm arose, a severe frost hit. And the wicked man soon died.

Filka scaredly asked the grandmother what to do now. She replied that there was hope. Maybe that person will correct his evil deed. And how to fix it, Pankrat knows. At night, when the grandmother fell asleep, Filka got down from the stove, dressed and ran to the mill. There he told the miller about his act. Pankrat listened attentively to the boy and said that he now needed to come up with a means of how to fix everything so that the mill would work.

Filka thought and said that he would gather the guys, and they would cut the ice until they got to the water. And if they freeze, the fires will be lit. Pankrat objected that the guys might not agree to correct Filkin's mistake. But the boy said he would persuade them. They are good. Pankrat agreed and said that he would talk to the old people so that they could help the guys.

And in the miller's hallway lived a magpie. She heard Filka's story and decided to fly south to call for spring. In the morning people went to the river. Boys and old men were chiseling ice and lighting fires. And no one noticed that the wind changed, blew from the south. It got warmer. Soon the ice settled and water appeared. Everyone rejoiced. And a magpie sat on a tree and cracked, as it flew to the warm sea, met spring there and asked to drive away the frost. But no one listened to her.

From the gushing water, the wheel in the mill spun. Pankrat poured grain, and flour flowed from under the millstone. In all houses birch firewood was chopped and bread was baked. At night, the smell of warm bread and a slightly burnt cabbage leaf hung over the village that even the foxes crawled out of their holes.

Filka was now left with the most difficult task - to make peace with the horse. Grandmother baked bread from new flour. The boy took the loaf and went to the mill. All the guys went with him. They watched with excitement the reconciliation of Filka and the horse. Pankrat opened the gate and released his horse. Filka broke off a large piece from the loaf, sprinkled it with salt and handed it to the horse. But he moved with his feet, but did not take the bread. Filka burst into tears. Then Pankrat told the horse not to be afraid that Filka was not evil.

The horse stood a little longer, shook its head, and finally carefully took the bread from the boy's hands. And when he ate the whole loaf, he put his head on Filka's shoulder. Everyone around rejoiced. And Filka smiled through his tears.