Children and adults love stories about Santa Claus. In them, the main character of the story is the favorite wizard of all children. As you know, Santa Claus can perform any miracle and give the most desired gift! He is often accompanied by his granddaughter Snegurochka, forest animals and birds. Read fairy tales about Santa Claus to plunge into the world of childhood, kindness, and New Year's magic.
A fairy tale about Father Frost and Snow Maiden
Iris Review
In the Fairytale Forest lived Father Frost and the Snow Maiden. They were very happy because every year they wished the children a Happy New Year! Father Frost and Snow Maiden truly loved the children and prepared the best gifts for them. Santa Claus looked for the most delicious candies, and the Snow Maiden selected the best toys.
And they were also happy because they lived in the most beautiful Fairytale Forest. How wonderful this forest was! The tops of the pines in it reached to the golden stars, the emerald spruces hid their prickly paws in fluffy mittens, and the snow was so shiny that it seemed as if the whole forest was sprinkled with precious grains of sand.
And then one day Father Frost and Snow Maiden were preparing for the next New Year. The Snow Maiden sewed herself a new dress with sparkling beads, and Grandfather Frost had a great outfit anyway.
On the morning when Father Frost and Snow Maiden were supposed to go to the children, an incredible event happened.
The festive outfit of Santa Claus has disappeared!
There was no silver fur coat, no painted felt boots, no gold-embroidered hat! And Santa Claus considered this outfit happy, because he congratulated the children in it, and because the Kindest Fairy sewed golden stars onto it.
Santa Claus started to light up and began to spin. And the Snow Maiden calms him down:
- This is not the time to be sad, grandfather, let's come up with something. And first of all, call the bullfinch Grisha, he flies everywhere and knows a lot.
Grisha the bullfinch was Father Frost's favorite bird.
Arriving Grisha listened to Santa Claus and said:
“I’ll fly, I’ll watch, I’ll look around, maybe I’ll see something.”
Grisha flies through the forest, looking into every corner. Suddenly he sees that near the hut on chicken legs all the forest villains are preparing for the New Year - Baba Yaga and Kikimora are cooking dumplings, the Goblin is clearing the snow from the yard, the Nightingale the Robber is entertaining everyone with his whistling, and Koschey the Immortal in the costume of Father Frost is doing something in folds the bag.
“So this is where Father Frost’s outfit is,” Grisha the bullfinch whistled under his breath. - What to do?
And he flew back to Father Frost and Snow Maiden. When Santa Claus heard that his outfit was from Koshchei the Immortal, he put on his old felt boots, which run as fast as running boots, and went to the Kindest Fairy.
Having learned what was the matter, the fairy began to think.
“You are the kindest fairy in the world,” said Santa Claus. – Give Koshchei the Immortal a new suit. And I'll take my suit from him.
But the kindest fairy told Santa Claus that she would go to Koshchei the Immortal herself. And Santa Claus ran home to wait for the fairy.
Soon the fairy appeared. She returned Santa Claus his outfit and said that she gave Koshchei the Immortal a New Year’s suit, but did not sew gold stars on him. And in honor of the New Year, the kindest fairy gave gifts to all the forest brethren who had gathered at Baba Yaga’s.
Father Frost put on his festive fur coat, painted felt boots, and a hat embroidered with gold and, together with the Snow Maiden, rushed off to the children.
And he took the kindest fairy with him. Let her give more good things to children!
And to you, my friend, the kindest fairy will give you good things, and Santa Claus and the Snow Maiden will give you gifts.
Good night!
Christmas stories for children
Our rural priest gave the most beautiful sermon today for the holiday. “Many centuries ago,” he said, “on this very day Truth came into the world.”
The truth is eternal. Before all centuries, she sat with Christ the lover of mankind at the right hand of her father, together with him she was incarnated and lit her torch on earth. She stood at the foot of the cross and was crucified with Christ; she sat, in the form of a luminous angel, at his tomb and saw his resurrection. And when the lover of mankind ascended to heaven, he left Truth on earth as living evidence of his unchanging benevolence towards the human race.
Since then, there has been no corner in the whole world into which Truth has not penetrated and filled it with itself. The truth educates our conscience, warms our hearts, enlivens our work, indicates the goal towards which our lives should be directed. Sorrowful hearts find in her a faithful and always open refuge, in which they can calm down and be consoled from the random worries of life.
Those who claim that Truth has ever hidden its face, or - what is even worse - has ever been defeated by Untruth, think wrongly. No, even in those sorrowful moments when it seemed to short-sighted people that the father of lies was triumphant, in reality Truth triumphed. She alone did not have a temporary character, she alone invariably walked forward, spreading her wings over the world and illuminating it with her bringing light. The imaginary triumph of lies dissipated like a heavy dream, and the Truth continued its march.
Together with the persecuted and humiliated, Truth went into the dungeons and penetrated into the mountain gorges. She ascended with the righteous to the bonfires and stood next to them in the face of their tormentors. She kindled a sacred flame in their souls, drove away from them thoughts of cowardice and betrayal; she taught them to suffer to their fullest. In vain did the servants of the father of lies pretend to triumph, seeing this triumph in those material signs that represented executions and death. The most brutal executions were powerless to break the Truth, but, on the contrary, imparted to it a greater attractive force. At the sight of these executions, simple hearts lit up, and in them the Truth found new grateful soil for sowing. The fires burned and devoured the bodies of the righteous, but from the flames of these fires countless lights were kindled, just as on bright morning, from the flame of one lit candle, the entire temple is suddenly illuminated with thousands of candles.
What is the Truth that I am talking to you about? The Gospel commandment answers this question. First of all, love God, and then love your neighbor as yourself. This commandment, despite its brevity, contains all the wisdom, the whole meaning of human life.
Love God - for he is the giver of life and lover of humanity, for in him is the source of goodness, moral beauty and truth. There is Truth in it. In this very temple, where a bloodless sacrifice is made to God, unceasing service to the Truth is also performed in it. All its walls are saturated with Truth, so that when you enter the temple, even the worst of you, you feel peaceful and enlightened. Here, in the face of the crucified one, you quench your sorrows; here you will find peace for your troubled souls. He was crucified for the sake of the Truth, the rays of which poured out from him to the whole world - will you weaken in spirit before the trials that befall you?
Love your neighbor as yourself—this is the second half of Christ’s commandment. I will not say that community life is impossible without love for one’s neighbor; I will say frankly, without reservations: this love in itself, apart from any extraneous considerations, is the beauty and exultation of our life. We must love our neighbor not for the sake of reciprocity, but for the sake of love itself. We must love unceasingly, selflessly, with a willingness to lay down our souls, just as a good shepherd lays down his life for his sheep.
We must strive to help our neighbor, without counting on whether he will return or not return the service rendered to him; we must protect him from adversity, even if adversity threatens to engulf us; we must stand up for him before the powers that be, we must go into battle for him. The feeling of love for one's neighbor is the highest treasure that only man possesses and which distinguishes him from other animals. Without his life-giving spirit, all human affairs are dead, without him the very purpose of existence dims and becomes incomprehensible. Only those people live a full life who are aflame with love and selflessness; only they alone know the real joys of life.
So, let us love God and each other - this is the meaning of human Truth. Let us seek her and walk in her path. Let us not be afraid of the snares of lies, but let us become kind and oppose them with the Truth we have acquired. A lie will be put to shame, but the Truth will remain and warm the hearts of people.
Now you will return to your homes and indulge in the joy of the feast of the Nativity of the Lord and lover of mankind. But even in the midst of your joy, do not forget that Truth came into the world with it, that it is present among you all days, hours and minutes, and that it represents that sacred fire that illuminates and warms human existence.
When the priest finished and the words “Blessed be the name of the Lord” were heard from the choir, a deep sigh echoed throughout the church. It was as if the whole crowd of those praying was confirming with this sigh: “Yes, be blessed!”
But of those present in the church, the ten-year-old son of a small landowner, Seryozha Ruslantsev, listened most attentively to the words of Father Pavel. At times he even showed excitement, his eyes filled with tears, his cheeks burned, and he himself leaned forward with his whole body, as if he wanted to ask about something.
Marya Sergeevna Ruslantseva was a young widow and had a tiny estate in the village itself. During the time of serfdom in the village there were up to seven landowner estates, located within a short distance from each other. The landowners were small-scale landowners, and Fyodor Pavlych Ruslantsev was one of the poorest: he had only three peasant households and a dozen servants. But since he was almost constantly chosen for various positions, the service helped him accumulate a small capital. When liberation came, he received, as a small landowner, a preferential ransom and, continuing field farming on the piece of land that remained behind the allotment, he could exist from day to day.
Marya Sergeevna married him a considerable time after the peasants' liberation, and a year later she was already a widow. Fyodor Pavlych was inspecting his forest plot on horseback; the horse got scared of something, knocked him out of the saddle, and he hit his head on a tree. Two months later, the young widow had a son.
Marya Sergeevna lived more than modestly. She violated field cultivation, gave the land to the peasants, and left behind her an estate with a small piece of land on which a garden with a small vegetable garden was planted. Her entire household inventory consisted of one horse and three cows; all the servants were from the same family of former servants, consisting of her old nanny with her daughter and married son. The nanny looked after everything in the house and nurtured little Seryozha; the daughter was cooking, the son and his wife went after the cattle, poultry, cultivated the vegetable garden, etc. Life flowed on silently. There was no need felt; firewood and basic food supplies were unpurchased, and there was almost no demand for purchased food. Household members said: “It’s like we live in paradise!” Marya Sergeevna herself also forgot that there is another life in the world (she glimpsed it from the windows of the institute in which she was brought up). Only Seryozha disturbed her from time to time. At first he grew well, but, approaching the age of seven, he began to show signs of some kind of morbid impressionability.
He was an intelligent, quiet boy, but at the same time weak and sickly. From the age of seven, Marya Sergeevna put him in charge of reading and writing; At first she taught herself, but then, when the boy began to approach ten years old, Father Pavel also took part in the teaching. It was supposed to send Seryozha to a gymnasium, and therefore it was necessary to acquaint him with at least the first foundations of ancient languages. The time was approaching, and Marya Sergeevna, in great confusion, thought about the upcoming separation from her son. Only at the cost of this separation could educational goals be achieved. The provincial town was far away, and it was not possible to move there with an annual income of six or seven hundred. She had already corresponded about Seryozha with her brother, who lived in a provincial town, occupying an invisible position, and the other day she received a letter in which her brother agreed to accept Seryozha into his family.
Upon returning from church, over tea, Seryozha continued to worry.
- Mommy, I really want to live! - he repeated.
“Yes, my dear, the most important thing in life is the truth,” his mother reassured him, “only your life is still ahead.” Children don’t live any other way, and they can’t live as if it were true.
- No, that’s not how I want to live; Father said that he who lives in truth must protect his neighbor from harm. This is how you need to live, but do I really live like that? Just the other day, Ivan Bedny’s cow was sold - did I really stand up for him? I just watched and cried.
“It’s in these tears that your child’s truth lies.” You couldn't do anything else. They sold a cow from Ivan Poor - according to the law, for a debt. There is such a law that everyone is obliged to pay their debts.
- Ivan, mom, couldn’t pay. He would have liked to, but he couldn’t. And the nanny says: “There is no poorer man in the whole village than him.” What kind of truth is this?
“I repeat to you, there is such a law, and everyone must obey the law.” If people live in society, then they have no right to neglect their responsibilities. You better think about your studies - that’s your truth. If you enter the gymnasium, be diligent, behave quietly - this will mean that you are truly living. I don't like it when you worry so much. Whatever you see, whatever you hear, it all somehow sinks into your heart. Father spoke generally; in church you can’t even say otherwise, but you apply it to yourself. Pray for your neighbors - God won’t ask you more than that.
But Seryozha did not calm down. He ran to the kitchen, where at that time the servants had gathered and drank tea for the sake of the holiday. The cook Stepanida was busy around the stove with a fork and every now and then pulled out a pot of boiling fatty cabbage soup. The smell of rotten slaughter and birthday cake permeated the entire air.
- I, nanny, will live in truth! - Seryozha announced.
- Since when did you get ready! - the old woman joked.
- No, nanny, I gave myself the right word! I will die for the truth, but I will not submit to untruth!
- Oh, my sick one! Look what came into your head!
“Didn’t you hear what the priest said in church?” One must take life for the truth - that’s what! Everyone must go into battle for the truth!
“We know what to say in church!” This is why the church was given, to hear about righteous deeds. Just you, my dear, listen, listen, and use your mind too!
“You have to live with the truth looking back,” said the worker Grigory reasonably.
- Why, for example, are mom and I drinking tea in the dining room, and you in the kitchen? “Is this true?” Seryozha got excited.
“The truth is not true, but it’s been like this since time immemorial.” We are simple people, we feel good in the kitchen. If everyone had gone to the dining room, the rooms would not have been prepared.
- You, Sergei Fedorych, that’s what! - Grigory intervened again, - when you are big, sit wherever you want: whether you want in the dining room, or in the kitchen. And Pokedova is small, sit with your mother - you won’t find a better truth for your age than this! Father will come to dinner already, and he will tell you the same. You never know what we do: we follow the cattle and dig in the ground, but the masters don’t have to do this. So that!
- But this is not true!
- And in our opinion it’s like this: if gentlemen are kind and compassionate, this is their truth. And if we, workers, diligently serve our masters, do not deceive, try our best - this is our truth. Thank you also if everyone observes his own truth.
There was a moment of silence. Seryozha, apparently, wanted to object to something, but Grigory’s arguments were so good-natured that he hesitated.
“In our direction,” the nanny was the first to break the silence, “where your mother and I came from, lived the landowner Rassoshnikov.” At first he lived like others, and suddenly he wanted to live in truth. And what did he do in the end? - He sold his estate, distributed the money to the poor, and went on a journey... Since then, he has not been seen.
- Oh, nanny! what a man this is!
“By the way, his son served in a regiment in St. Petersburg,” added the nanny.
“The father gave away the estate, but the son was left with nothing... I should ask the son if his father’s truth is good?” reasoned Gregory.
“Didn’t the son understand that his father acted truthfully?” - Seryozha intervened.
- The fact is that he didn’t understand it too much, but also tried to bother. Why, he says, did he assign me to the regiment, if now I have nothing to support myself with?
“I was assigned to the regiment... I have nothing to support myself...” Seryozha mechanically repeated after Grigory, getting confused among these comparisons.
“And I remember one case,” continued Grigory, “a man in our village, called Martyn, took over from this very Rassoshnikov. He also distributed all the money he had to the poor, left only the hut for the family, and he put a bag over his shoulder, and left, stealthily, at night, wherever his eyes looked. Only, listen, he forgot to straighten the patch - a month later he was sent home.
- For what? did he do anything bad? - Seryozha objected.
“The bad is not the bad, I’m not talking about that, but about the fact that in truth you have to live looking back.” You are not allowed to walk without a passport - that’s all there is to it. This way, everyone will scatter, they will quit their jobs - and there will be no end to them, the vagabonds...
The tea is over. Everyone got up from the table and prayed. “Well, now we’ll have dinner,” said the nanny, “go, my dear, to mamma, sit with her; Soon, my father and mother will come too.
Indeed, at about two o'clock Father Paul and his wife came.
- I, father, will live in truth! I will fight for the truth! - Seryozha greeted the guests.
- That’s how you found a warrior! You can’t see it from the ground, but you’re already ready for battle! — the priest joked.
- I'm tired of him. “Everyone has been talking about the same thing since the morning,” said Marya Sergeevna.
- Nothing, madam. He will talk and forget.
- No, I won’t forget! - Serezha insisted, - you yourself said just now that you need to live in truth... you said it in church!
“That’s why the church was established, to proclaim the truth in it.” If I, the shepherd, do not fulfill my duty, the church itself will remind me of the truth. And besides me, every word that is pronounced in it is Truth; only hardened hearts can remain deaf to her...
- In the church? and live?
- And you should live in truth. When you reach the proper age, then you will understand the truth in full, but for now, the truth that is characteristic of your age is enough for you. Love your mother, have respect for your elders, study diligently, behave modestly - this is your truth.
- But martyrs... you yourself said just now...
— There were also martyrs. Truth and reproach should be accepted as truth. But the time has not come for you to think about it. And besides, to say: then there was time, and now it’s different, the truth has increased - and there are no more martyrs.
“Martyrs... bonfires...” Seryozha babbled in embarrassment.
- Enough! - Marya Sergeevna shouted at him impatiently.
Seryozha fell silent, but remained thoughtful throughout dinner. During dinner there were casual conversations about village affairs. Stories followed stories, and it was not always clear from them that the truth would triumph. Strictly speaking, there was neither truth nor untruth, but there was ordinary life, in those forms and with the lining to which everyone was accustomed from time immemorial. Seryozha had heard these conversations countless times and was never particularly worried by them. But on this day something new penetrated into his being, which incited and excited him.
- Eat! - his mother forced him, seeing that he was hardly eating at all.
“In corpore sano mens sana [In a healthy body there is a healthy spirit (Latin)],” the priest added for his part. - Listen to your mother - this is the best way to prove your love for the truth. One must love the truth, but imagining oneself as a martyr for no reason is already vanity, vanity.
The new mention of the truth alarmed Seryozha; he leaned towards the plate and tried to eat; but suddenly he burst into tears. Everyone fussed and surrounded him.
“Does your head hurt?” asked Marya Sergeevna.
“It hurts,” he answered in a weak voice.
- Well, go to bed. Nanny, put him to bed!
He was taken away. Lunch was interrupted for several minutes because Marya Sergeevna could not stand it and left after the nanny. Finally, both returned and announced that Seryozha had fallen asleep.
- It’s okay, he’ll fall asleep and it’ll pass! - Father Pavel reassured Marya Sergeevna.
In the evening, however, the headache not only did not subside, but a fever developed. Seryozha would get up anxiously in bed at night and keep rummaging around with his hands, as if he was looking for something.
- Martin... one step at a time for the truth... what is it? - he babbled incoherently.
- Which Martin is he remembering? - Marya Sergeevna turned to the nanny, perplexed.
“And remember, there was a peasant in our village who left the house in the name of Christ... Gregory told Seryozha just now.
- You're still talking nonsense! - Marya Sergeevna got angry, “it’s absolutely impossible to let the boy come to you.”
The next day, after early mass, the priest volunteered to go to the city for a doctor. The city was forty miles away, so it was impossible to wait for the doctor to arrive before nightfall. And the doctor, I must admit, was old and bad; He did not use any other drugs except opodeldok, which he prescribed both externally and internally. In the city they said about him: “He doesn’t believe in medicine, but he believes in medicine.”
At night, around eleven o'clock, the doctor arrived. He examined the patient, felt the pulse and announced that he had a fever. Then he ordered the patient to be rubbed with opodeldok and forced him to swallow two pellets.
“It’s hot, but you’ll see that the opodeldok will take everything away!” - he announced gravely.
The doctor was fed and put to bed, but Seryozha tossed and burned all night like he was on fire.
They woke up the doctor several times, but he repeated the opodeldok techniques and continued to assure that by the morning everything would be over.
Seryozha was delirious; in delirium, he repeated: “Christ... Truth... Rassoshnikov... Martyn...” and continued to fumble around himself, saying: “Where? where?..” By morning, however, he calmed down and fell asleep.
The doctor left, saying: “You see!” - and citing that other patients were waiting for him in the city.
The whole day passed between fear and hope. As long as it was light outside, the patient felt better, but the loss of strength was so great that he almost did not speak. With the onset of dusk, the “hotness” began again and the pulse began to beat faster. Marya Sergeevna stood at his bedside in silent horror, trying to understand something but not understanding.
Opodeldok was abandoned; The nanny applied vinegar compresses to Seryozha’s head, put on mustard plasters, gave him linden blossom to drink, in a word, randomly and inappropriately used all the remedies that she had heard of and that were at hand.
By nightfall the agony began. At eight o'clock in the evening the full month rose, and since the curtains on the windows, due to an oversight, were not lowered, a large bright spot formed on the wall. Seryozha stood up and stretched his hands towards him.
- Mother! - he babbled, - look! all in white... this is Christ... this is the Truth... Behind him... to him...
He fell over onto the pillow, sobbed like a child and died.
The truth flashed before him and filled his being with bliss; but the youth’s fragile heart could not withstand the influx and burst.
New Year's adventure
Iris Review
Baba Yaga lived in the Deep Forest. She did not have a good disposition - she was malicious and unyielding. Her home was not a hut or a yurt, but a hut on chicken legs.
Once Baba Yaga was sitting in her hut and was sad because the New Year was coming, and again no one would invite her to the holiday. She won’t have fun with everyone else, and she won’t participate in the New Year’s round dance around the tree either.
Last year, the foxes and bunnies really didn’t invite her to the New Year’s party. They were afraid that she would start an evil deed, as had happened more than once, and ruin everyone’s New Year’s mood.
- We must make sure that there is no holiday! - Baba Yaga decided. - But what’s so bad about coming up with?
“We need to arrange it so that all the trees in the Deep Forest disappear!” - Baba Yaga decided. “Then the animals and birds will have nothing to dress up.” Santa Claus, who usually hides gifts under the Christmas tree, will have nowhere to put them. And there won’t be a New Year’s round dance at all - they won’t dance around birch and rowan trees, and there won’t be any Christmas trees to be found. But how can you make the Christmas trees disappear? I can't do this alone. Who will help me? Maybe I should turn to the sorcerer Grumpy Grumpy, with whom I once studied at the School of Sorcerers a long time ago?
Baba Yaga sat in the mortar and flew to the sorcerer. He drives with a pestle and covers the trail with a broom. She flew to Grumpy-Gurchyun and told about her idea.
The sorcerer grumbled and grumbled:
- Oh, you started a bad deed, Baba Yaga, but I don’t care, for the sake of old friendship I will help you.
The sorcerer read some old leather-bound book, whispered something, waved his hands and told Baba Yaga that the job was done.
- There is not a single Christmas tree in the Deep Forest!
- Thank you, good Grumpy Grumpy! - said Baba Yaga.
Meanwhile, Santa Claus collected gifts for animals and birds in a large bag, and then went to the Deep Forest to choose a Christmas tree. But there was not a single Christmas tree in the forest!
- What a misfortune! - Santa Claus got angry. -Where did the Christmas trees go? What is New Year without a New Year tree?
Santa Claus immediately guessed whose hands it was. Of course, Baba Yaga! She is the master of evil inventions! Santa Claus went to her. Baba Yaga did not admit guilt:
- What are you saying, Morozushko, it’s not me, I don’t care about Christmas trees!
Father Frost did not believe Baba Yaga. He got angry:
- Now I’ll freeze you, old witch!
Baba Yaga got scared, groaned, and promised to return all the trees to their place. Of course, she understood that she couldn’t do it without the help of Grumpy Grumpy.
“You are planning an evil deed,” continued Santa Claus, “and plan to do something good.”
New Year's stories always have a happy ending
Both boys became real friends. And Styopa suddenly realized that this was a real New Year’s miracle! No one should be unhappy and lonely on New Year's Eve. Magic lives in the hearts of good people. This is New Year's magic. When the boy grew up, he began to help everyone. He remembered how sometimes help is needed for other people. Everyone responded to him with gratitude. After that festive night, New Year's holidays have always become associated with something good, kind and sincere. When he had his own children, he gladly told them fairy tales about how everything is possible on New Year’s Day! And that this is a truly magical time, full of surprises and happy moments.
After reading a fairy tale about the New Year, try asking your child to draw an illustration for the holiday.
Bedtime story about New Year
Iris Review
Once upon a time there lived Santa Claus. He was tall, stately and with a rich white beard. He lived in a beautiful mansion with painted shutters, a high porch and patterned glass in the lighted windows. Every winter, Santa Claus wished all the inhabitants of the Fairytale Forest a Happy New Year. The inhabitants of the Fairytale Forest dressed up in carnival costumes, and it was impossible to tell which of them was a fox and which was a hare. Santa Claus congratulated everyone, and often visited the neighboring Azure Forest to congratulate the local residents on the New Year.
One day a story happened. Early on, a small titmouse flew to Santa Claus and told him that Baba Yaga was asking him to come visit her.
- What does the venerable cheat want? – thought Santa Claus, but did not refuse the invitation.
“I’ll come by lunchtime,” said Santa Claus.
But he was unable to come to dinner, and he showed up at the house on chicken legs only in the evening. There was a stump right next to Baba Yaga's house. Santa Claus accidentally touched it with his staff, the stump swayed, shook himself off and mumbled:
— For some reason or other?
“Baba Yaga herself called,” answered Santa Claus.
“Come in,” the stump said peacefully.
Baba Yaga treated Santa Claus to bagels, and then said:
- In the Farthest, Farthest Forest, you, Red Nose Frost, have never been seen. But there were no Christmas trees there; Only sorcerer oaks grow there. Get ready, take the New Year tree there and gifts to the inhabitants of the forest.
- How will I go there? – asked Santa Claus. “My horses don’t even know the way there.”
“So be it, let’s go together in my mortar,” said Baba Yaga.
“But it will be too small for both of us,” said Santa Claus.
“Don’t worry about it,” said Baba Yaga.
- Why have you become so kind? – Santa Claus doubted.
- So, for once, you gave me a gift today - you gave me a new broom and repaired the stove, otherwise I, the old one, began to freeze completely.
And the next morning they decided to fly to the Far, Far Forest. Santa Claus put on a warm fur coat, took gifts and a New Year tree. But Baba Yaga found fur mittens and put on woolen socks, but she didn’t take any gifts, because Baba-Hedgehogs don’t give any gifts, and she even waved a broom.
Baba Yaga tapped her mortar with a broom, it immediately increased in size, Santa Claus and Baba Yaga sat in the mortar and flew away.
Whether it took a long time or a short time, they flew to the Far-Far Forest. When the inhabitants of the forest saw Baba Yaga flying, they hid in all directions.
Father Frost and Baba Yaga landed and gathered to congratulate the inhabitants of the Far, Far Forest on the New Year, but no one was there. They were screaming and screaming, but there was no one there. What to do? Whom should we congratulate?
And a small titmouse joined them in flight. When Father Frost and Baba Yaga were getting ready for the journey, she slipped into the pocket of Father Frost's fur coat, and sat there the entire way.
When Santa Claus and Baba Yaga began to look for animals and birds, she got out of her pocket and said:
- Don’t worry, I’ll bring animals and birds to you now.
And she flew off to look for the local titmice. I found them and told them that Father Frost and Baba Yaga had arrived to wish everyone a Happy New Year and give them gifts. And they brought something else.
It turned out to be a New Year's tree, which was seen by the inhabitants of the very Far, Far Forest, who came running to the Silver Glade. They were invited by numerous tits.
Residents of the most distant, distant forest gasped when they looked at the beautiful Christmas tree with toys, lanterns and lights. Santa Claus gave gifts to everyone, and Baba Yaga told a New Year's fairy tale. The little titmouse was asking riddles.
And when Santa Claus's clock struck twelve times, everyone shouted in unison:
- Happy New Year! Hooray!
And they danced together in circles. And then the little sparrow said that he was tired and wanted to sleep. The fox cubs, wolf cubs, and squirrels also wanted to sleep.
Well! Sleep is also a small holiday. A holiday of happy events and fabulous transformations. Children grow up in their sleep. This is great!
Grow up too, my friend. Gain strength and health. Santa Claus asked me to tell you that everything will be fine with you!
Good night!
Chance meeting on New Year's Day
The boy made a living by repairing shoes. But one day he injured his hand with a hammer. And I couldn't work anymore. And his sister got sick. He didn't have money to buy medicine. And on New Year's Eve, when families gathered in their warm and cozy homes at a beautiful festive table, he walked the streets in complete confusion. The boy did not know at all what to do. It was necessary to find money somewhere for my sister to get better. And then he saw one stately man and his son leaving a toy store. They laughed and rejoiced. A passerby saw our hero and wished him a Happy New Year. But dad saw from his face that he was very sad about something.
Father and son turned to the boy and asked: “What is your name? What's happened? Why aren't you happy? New Year is a wonderful time!” The boy replied that his name was Styopa. And he doesn’t think so at all, because for him this is a cruel time, he and his sister were left completely alone. Then they went together to Stepa’s house. The father called and paid for a doctor for his sister. The doctor helped the girl, and her condition improved. And the guys were invited to a gala dinner to celebrate the New Year together.
Magic colors
Once every hundred years, on New Year's Eve, the kindest of all the kindest old men, Father Frost, brings seven magical colors. With these paints you can paint whatever you want, and what you draw will come to life. If you want, draw a herd of cows and then graze them. If you want, draw a ship and sail on it. Or a spaceship and fly to the stars. And if you need to draw something simpler, like a chair, go ahead. Draw and sit on it. Santa Claus brings these colors to the kindest of all the kindest children. And this is understandable. If such paints fall into the hands of an evil boy or an evil girl, they can cause a lot of trouble. They will add a second nose to a person, and the person will be double-nosed. They will draw horns on the dog, a mustache on the chicken, and a hump on the cat, and the dog will have horns, the chicken will have a mustache, and the cat will have a humpback. Therefore, Santa Claus takes a very long time to choose which of the children to give magic colors to. The last time he gave them to one very kind boy. To the kindest of the kindest. The boy was very happy with the gift and immediately began to draw.
He drew a warm scarf for his grandmother, an elegant dress for his mother, and a hunting rifle for his father. The boy drew eyes for the blind old man, and a big, big school for his comrades. But no one could use what was drawn. The scarf for the grandmother looked like a rag for washing floors, and the dress drawn for the mother turned out to be so lopsided, colorful and baggy that she did not even want to try it on. The gun was no different from a club. For a blind man, the eyes resembled two blue blots, and he could not see with them. And the school, which the boy painted very diligently, turned out to be so ugly that they were even afraid to come close to it. Trees like brooms appeared on the street. Horses with wire legs appeared, cars with crooked wheels, houses with falling walls and roofs on one side, fur coats and coats with one sleeve longer than the other... Thousands of things appeared that could not be used. And people were horrified: “How could you do so much evil, the kindest of all the kindest boys?!”
Hare, braid, bear and Santa Claus
Vitaly Bianchi
In the angry naked autumn, life has become really bad for the forest animals! The Hare is crying in the bushes:
“I’m cold, Zainka, I’m scared, little white one!” All the bushes have fallen off, all the grass has died - there is nowhere for me to hide from the evil eyes. I put on a white fur coat, but the ground is black and black - everyone sees me from afar, everyone chases me and catches me. My little head is gone!
Kosach-Gaterev mutters from a birch tree:
“I’m afraid to wander downstairs, I’m afraid to peck berries.” I’m sitting on the top, looking around, pecking at some earrings. The wind rocks me on the branches, the rain wets me - I can’t sit!
The bear grumbles:
“There’s nothing left to eat in the forest at all; at least go to the people and kill the cows; I should have fallen asleep long ago, but the ground is bare, the den is visible all around - now the hunters will find it and kill the sleepy one.
The Hare, the Kosach and the Bear agreed and sent the Titmouse for Santa Claus.
- Come to us, Father Frost, bring us, Father Frost, snow, bring us, Father Frost, winter!
Santa Claus groaned, came and poured a bag of snow onto the forest. It became white and even all around.
The bear said: Hare, braid, bear and Santa Claus
- That's okay. Thank you, Santa Claus!
Climbed under a pile of dead wood. The pile was covered with snow - and you couldn’t see that there was a den there.
The hare said with a reservation:
- Thank you. Santa Claus! Now you can’t see me, little white one. Your powder is good, but it’s warm and printed: the snow is soft and fluffy. My marks are visible on it. Wherever you lie down to rest, someone will find you now.
But Kosach didn’t even say thank you.
“What kind of winter is this,” he mutters, “when the snow is knee-deep to a chicken, when the snow doesn’t cover even a lying log!” Winter is in a hurry - the chickens laugh. No snow, no frost. Why should I hang out on a birch tree all winter?
Santa Claus took pity on him - let’s dump the snow on the forest in big bags and freeze it so that it’s fine.
Kosach said:
- What a deal! - yes, it crashes from the birch tree into the snow. I spent the night there, in a hole it was warm and invisible.
The hare said:
- Grandfather Frost, what are you doing to me! Is it easy for me to run in this kind of snow? Deep. After all, I’m falling head over heels into it! And if you go along the path, you will meet the Fox, and there will be traps set for you. You, Zainka, have pity on me: make the snow crust on top.
But the Bear didn’t say anything: he was sleeping.
Santa Claus felt sorry for the Hare. During the day the snow began to melt, and streams began to run under the dead wood. And at night, let’s pave and freeze the damp snow on top. I made a crust - a strong ice crust.
The hare said:
- Thank you so much, Grandfather Frost! Everything is fine now. I run on the crust without falling through. You can’t even see my marks on it.
Kosach said:
- What are you talking about, Grandfather! In the evening I’ll fall into the wet snow, dig myself deeper, and in the morning I’ll break my head: there’s an icy roof over my head!
And the Bear will jump out of the den and bark:
- Hey, old man! Why are you drowning the snow, letting out streams! I wet all my pants!
Santa Claus shied away from him.
- Come on! - speaks. - Picky people! You can't please everyone. I'd rather go home.
And left.
Well, to say the least, the forest animals did not cry for him for a very long time: in return for him, the Tit brought Spring alive. And Spring, you know, is beautiful for everyone. Love it for both us and all the forest animals.
She consoled everyone and cheered everyone up.
How she did it is a different story.
SNOWFLAKE'S JOURNEY
⠀ A little fluffy snowflake was lying on a snowdrift in the park, looking at the clouds and dreaming. She really wanted to look outside, beyond the fence. What kind of people and trees are there? Are there dogs walking there? How do cars drive on the road? It was New Year's Eve. And, as you know, on such days dreams come true especially quickly. A strong wind blew. He picked up a fluffy snowflake. Wow, how she was dizzy! At first, the snowflake didn’t understand where it was and where it was flying.⠀ But then the wind died down and slowly lowered the snowflake onto the roof of the bus stop. Our heroine caught her breath a little and looked down. The bus just arrived and the passengers got off. Snowflake could only see their hats: black, white, green and blue with a pompom. The green hat was leading a large black dog on a leash. It seems that the snowflake saw them in her park... She leaned a little further to carefully examine the dog and owner. But the roof of the stop turned out to be slippery.⠀ - Oh-her! — the snowflake slid down and slowly landed right on the dog’s nose. The nose was wet and hot, the little piece of ice immediately felt hot. The black dog squinted both eyes to look at the white miracle that had fallen on him. And then - bees! - He sneezed loudly. The snowflake began to spin in the air again.⠀ A new gust of wind carried our heroine further. And when it died down, a snowflake fell into the pocket of the boy, who was wearing a pirate cocked hat on his head. He was probably returning from a matinee at school.⠀ “How will I get out of here?” - the snowflake thought. Yes, it was good in the pocket, it was quiet and smelled deliciously of chocolates. But the boy will probably come home soon. And there, in the warmth, the snowflake will turn into a drop of water in a minute. On the way, the boy met a friend and decided to share candy with him - this saved our heroine. She grabbed the mitten when the boy put his hand in his pocket.⠀ - Thank you! - heard the snowflake. And the wind picked it up again. This time the snowflake swirled for a long time. For a few seconds she landed on the roof of a two-story house and flew again, carried away by the whirlwind.⠀ Finally, she managed to cling to a green spruce branch and take a little rest. But then a noise attracted her attention: down there, under the tree, someone was screaming, laughing and singing.⠀ Snowflake carefully, without letting go of the branch, leaned over. It turned out that the tree was located in the main city square. A crowd of children gathered under her. And a grandfather with a white beard, in a red fur coat and a hat of the same color, approached everyone, put his hand into the bag and took out a toy. He handed the toy to the baby, and he answered loudly: ⠀ - Thank you, Grandfather Frost! ⠀ “So that’s what he is - Grandfather Frost!” - thought the snowflake. In recent days, all the children who were walking in the park were talking about this grandfather. And now the snowflake saw him with her own eyes. Miracles!⠀ The holiday on the square is over, Santa Claus has left, the children and their parents have gone home. Snowflake yawned and felt how tired she was.⠀ “Now I’d like to go home, to a soft snowdrift, to my snowflake sisters,” she said dreamily out loud.⠀ And then the wind once again picked up a small piece of ice and, circling, brought it to a friend parka. There he gently lowered her into a snowdrift and calmed down.⠀ - Where have you been? Where did you fly? What did you see? - her snowflake sisters began to vying with each other to ask.⠀ - Oh, it was a real trip! - the snowflake answered and began the story.
