Who plants forests according to Mr. Snegirev. Gennady Snegirev Smart porcupine

Mom, who plants the forest?

Foresters.

No, mom, I think the forest is planted by birds and animals. This is their home. So they first build it, and then live in it. But foresters don’t plant, they mostly cut down the forest for boards and firewood. Do you remember when we were driving along a forest road, how many cars we came across with chopped down forest? Everyone goes and goes. Foresters do not live in the forest, they only feed on the forest.

Ocean - information capacity

The ocean has a gigantic information capacity and, apparently, a huge level of consciousness, since every drop, every stream and river carries into the ocean a mass of various information collected in the air, on the ground, underground over hundreds of thousands of km 2. Because it is water that has a gigantic information capacity. At the level of consciousness, you can communicate and talk with rivers, seas, oceans, with Baikal, for example. They are very willing to make such contacts.

Every living thing remembers grievances

One summer, my neighbor Vovka, a 14-year-old boy, drowned. Kind, bright. Drowned in former quarry, in a very shallow place. The mother went to the lama to find out the reason. The Lama, having told his fortune, said briefly: “I offended the water.” Water remembers the insult, and earth, and air, and fire, and trees, and flowers. And at some point this insult will definitely return to the offender. I knew fishermen who could swim perfectly, but for some reason for unknown reasons drowned in the most ridiculous way where it seemed impossible to drown. They were the ones who once offended the water. We are accustomed to treating everything around us as something lifeless, inert, insensitive. But it turns out that everything around is alive, feeling, conscious, remembering.

Don't offend Water.

Don't insult the Earth.

Don't offend Fire.

Don't offend the Air.

Do not harm flowers and trees.

Every living thing remembers insults.

Is there a God?

V.I.: Is there a God?

What do you think?

Well, I think, I think...

You are even afraid to express your opinion because you are afraid of finding yourself in a funny position.

Just recently, 10–15 years ago, it was considered the height of ignorance and savagery to assert that God exists. The fact that the astronauts flew and did not see anyone was considered a very compelling argument. It turns out that they did see it, but they were silent. This was our level of awareness. Almost spiritual literature was banned. There is no God - this was the party truth, this was the party line, its beliefs. And try to go against this line at that time. Now it is considered the height of ignorance to say that there is no God. One Hundred Laureates Nobel Prize spoke with open appeal to humanity, affirming the existence of God. Our domestic scientist Plykin received a patent for scientific proof of the existence of God. Einstein believed. Yes, perhaps now there is not a single real scientist who doubts this. Human consciousness has changed. It rushed towards God. The realization has finally come that there is “The Way, the Truth and the Life”, i.e. something that everyone spends their entire lives trying to discover scientific world and the comprehension of what all spiritually aspiring people are engaged in. Yes, God is the Way, the Truth and the Life. Seek and it will be revealed to you. Ask and it will be given to you. The main thing is, go, go - the path is indicated, the goal is there - go.

Will of the Creator

Chiddakashi-Chittakashi-Bhuddakashi - the world of causes, the world of thought and the world of matter. Sai Baba says that all these worlds are animated, in other words, they exist thanks to a certain Divine principle. I think that by this Divine principle Sai Baba means the Will of the creator. For only she permeates, unites and governs all these worlds. Without it, all worlds would turn into chaos and instantly collapse.

Columns

Ivan Poyartsev was already finishing his 30th hunting season. “That’s it,” he said to himself, “this is the last one, and never set foot in the forest again.” But autumn came, Ivan sat by the window and looked longingly towards the taiga. She beckoned, called, attracted.

“Screw you! – the wife could not stand it. “You’ll be exhausted.” Ivan seemed to be waiting for these words. He happily jumped up from his chair and fussily began to pack his backpack. His heart sang, he glowed with joy.

“Eh,” sighed Grunya’s wife, a small, thin woman with a kind face and sad blue eyes.

“Apparently, you’ll die on your hunt.” You’ve been roaming around the taiga for thirty years, but you still haven’t found it. I would stay at home. Your pension and mine are enough. Consider your son raised. Do you want to work? After all, they offered it to the state industrial enterprise for the reception of furs. Why not work? Otherwise, with my husband alive, I’m like a widow. You are in the taiga all year, and I am with the house, with the farm, for both the woman and the man.

“What do I care about your money, your furnishings,” Grunya objected.

- You sit like a fool, alone. And I guess I want your warmth and affection.

“Okay, okay,” Ivan says conciliatoryly, hugging his fragile and somehow defenseless wife, like a child.

Next to him - tall, broad-shouldered, she seemed like a teenage girl. “This is the last season. I’ll take off everything, cover up the bundles, and I won’t touch anything else. I’ll go take the furs.”

“God forbid, God forbid,” the wife prayed.

– Maybe, in fact, you’ll quit.

Ivan was the best hunter in the state industrial enterprise. His photograph has been hanging on the honor board for about 20 years. He was constantly invited to various meetings and symposiums. But he didn’t go anywhere, he didn’t love. “What should we do there? You sit like a fool, listening to them say the same thing. After that, my head hurts, but there’s nothing worthwhile left in my head. What can I say, we have to work.”

And Ivan worked. I spent almost the whole year tending my plot. Mowed hay. Where necessary, I planted sea buckthorn and rowan. Burned out the old grass.

In a word, he did everything to attract the beast to his site. learned very well simple truth: Where there is food, there is an animal. I cut hay, hung aspen and birch wreaths - hares, mice, roe deer and wapiti appeared there, and predators will definitely follow the herbivores. So take as much as the land allows.

Ivan delivered the most game of all in his State Industrial Enterprise: he managed to fulfill the plan, even when the season of other hunters was barely half the norm. He ended this season more successfully than anyone else. He sold the most furs. Red deer meat, hare meat.

February came, the sun began to shine. The mating season has begun for the animals. But for Ivan he was unusual. For the first time in so many years of hunting practice, he managed to tame the kolin. Or rather, it was not he, but the speaker who managed to tame Ivan.

One day, returning from a tour of his site, Ivan opened the door of the winter hut and saw a water pump on the table. He stood in a column and looked at Ivan, calmly waiting for him. At first he was stunned by surprise. “Here they are, I’m trying to catch them there, setting bags and traps, freezing the snot, but he himself came.”

As soon as Ivan stepped over the threshold, the speaker ducked under the table and disappeared into the hole. Ivan looked into the hole. “It’s fresh,” he noted, “we need to set a trap.” But while he was heating the iron stove, he changed his mind: “Let him live. If it takes root, there won’t be any mice.” The next day the same picture repeated. “Wow,” Ivan was surprised, “he’s not running away. I got used to it."

He began leaving pieces of meat on the table. Feed the animal. About four days later, he didn’t run away as usual, but waited until Ivan took off his backpack, brought firewood and lit the stove. Ivan glanced at the pump with one eye, minding his own business, and was still surprised: “Wow, he’s not running away.”

After about ten days, he no longer ran away at all, he took pieces of meat from his hands, but still did not give them to his hands. Now Ivan slept peacefully: the mice no longer bothered him with their rustling, running, and squeaking.

This is how they lived: Ivan left at dawn to check his traps, and the kolin remained in the winter quarters for his owner. Now the speaker greeted Ivan differently than usual: as soon as the door opened, the animal began to rush around the winter hut, rejoicing at his arrival. “Well, like a child,” the old hunter rejoiced. Warmth spread through my heart. "Here you go, alive soul rejoices at you."

The kolonok no longer only took food from the hands, but was given into the hands. The hunter carefully laid him on his lap and gently stroked his smooth red fur.

“Wow,” he marveled at himself, “I’ve been skinning them all my life, but I didn’t even know that they were like this.”

Soon the koslovnik did not go into his hole at night, but climbed under the hunter’s blanket, curled up under his arm and fell asleep. Now Ivan was afraid to turn around carelessly at night, God forbid he accidentally run over the animal.

“Well, just like a little child,” he said, stroking the pump at night. “Wow, I’ve become attached, and if you tell anyone, they won’t believe you, you’re telling stories, but here you are – I’ve become friends with the person.”

Now Ivan, stripping the skins from the caught animals, tried to do this in the absence of the colonel. But the season was coming to an end. February came, the sun began to warm up like spring. The mating season has begun for the animals.

Sometimes the speaker disappeared for a whole day, and Ivan felt vague concern for him: “If only he didn’t fall into a trap or bag.” He gradually began to extinguish his firecrackers, remove his traps, and get ready to go home. He knew that home was already waiting for him, and he missed home. And then the morning came when Ivan got up, last time he lit the stove, boiled some tea, had a quick breakfast, fed the speaker, tied up the backpack he had packed in the evening, and then his gaze fell on the speaker. He stood in a column on the table near the kerosene lamp, just like the first time, and looked attentively at the hunter.

“Why will he stay here,” Ivan thought. “Friendship is friendship, and ten rubles are not too much in the house.” He took the speaker by the collar and hit his head hard on the bench. The speaker jumped and calmed down. Ivan pulled off the skin and tied it on top of the backpack. It will dry out on the road. He blew out the lamp, opened the door, and threw out the animal carcass. I closed the winter hut and walked towards the highway.

It was 20 km away - that's four hours of skiing in the snow-covered taiga. Therefore, Ivan left in the dark to be on the track by lunchtime. Hitch a ride and be home by evening.

They lived on the outskirts of the city in the private sector.

Ivan strode across the taiga. His heart sank sweetly from the upcoming meeting. He loved these moments. And the wife, and the son, and the house were somehow different, new, more desirable, more expensive.

And it seemed to him that for this it was worth working in the taiga from sunrise to sunset, freezing, and sometimes getting sick, so that the house would be a full cup. And peace and mutual understanding reigned in him. And for 35 years of marriage with his wife, she remained always young and always desirable for him. We've never fought like that in our entire life.

But the longer Ivan left the winter hut, the more he was overcome by vague anxiety. “I forgot something,” he thought.

Finally this feeling became unbearable. He stopped near the fallen wood. He swept the snow off her, put down the backpack and began to sort through her things, no, everything was in place. I counted the skins of the hunted animals. And here everything came together.

Suddenly his eyes caught on the skin of the column that was attached to the top of the backpack. Something skipped a beat in Ivan’s chest. He clearly saw in the light of the kerosene lamp there, on the table, the eyes of the animal. They looked at him in a special, human way.

Everything somehow tightened in Ivan’s chest, and unexpectedly a sob burst out.

What have I done, what have I done?

Tears naturally appeared in my eyes.

Ivan had never experienced such a state before. He tore off the skin and wanted to throw it away, then immediately changed his mind. He put it in his backpack out of sight, tied it, threw it over his shoulders and walked on. But that joy of waiting for a happy meeting with family and home was no longer there. All his thoughts and feelings hovered there - in the winter hut. He remembered his first meeting with the speaker, then life together episode by episode. And his heart was filled with warmth and bitterness. He didn’t even notice how dawn broke and how he got to the road. I stopped a ride. And soon he was home. On a short time the joy of meeting, the bathhouse, and the feast dulled the bitterness of what happened in Ivan’s heart.

The son, disassembling his father’s backpack, pulled out the kolinka skin and showed it to his mother with admiration:

Mom, look what kind of column dad got.

“Put it down,” Ivan said restrainedly. He poured himself a full glass of vodka and drank it. The wife immediately noticed the sudden change in her husband.

He never drank more than two glasses. The soul did not accept. And here - three.

Did anything happen while hunting? - she asked sympathetically.

No, everything is fine,” Ivan answered evasively and, rising from the table, stretched.

I'm tired. It took a long time to come out. Road. Tired. I'll go and lie down.

That night in bed with Grunya, nothing worked out for them.

The soil lay uncovered, with with open eyes, and her heart sank in alarming foreboding.

Vanya, did something happen to you? - she asked rather not questioningly, but affirmatively.

I killed a friend.

What are you talking about!.. - Grunya jumped out of bed, prayerfully pressing her hands to her chest. - Accidentally?..

Got into a fight?

This is a speaker,” seeing his wife’s fright, Ivan softened.

What? Is that what the nickname is? Or last name?

This is an animal, speaker.

“Ugh, Lord,” Grunya fell helplessly onto the bed. - Well, I scared him. I thought you killed a man, and you killed an animal. Well, thank God, otherwise...

Yes, he is a Man, he was a man, Grunya,” Ivan interrupted his wife. - It was me, the brute, the beast, who killed him with his head on the bench. I am him, I, and not he me, you know, Grunya,” Ivan began to sob. He was like a little child.

He fed from my hands. He slept with me, Grunya. Like a child, he will crawl under my arm, curl up in a ball and sleep. You should have seen Grun how happy he was with me when I came to the winter hut. It was a small child, only in animal skin. And I sat him on the bench and set my sights on ten. It seems like there is nothing human left in me. IN professional killer turned.

The wife looked at her husband in fear. It was the first time she had seen him like this. Anything happened in their lives. And illness, and the death of his beloved daughter. He didn't even shed a tear. And here I burst into tears, like a small child.

In a feminine maternal impulse, she grabbed him by the neck and pulled his large shaggy head with gray hair showing through to her small girlish chest.

Vanya, honey, calm down. You never know how many of these animals you got, you think you covered half the country. And here because of one column there is such a disorder. Calm down. Time will pass, and everything will be forgotten. Apparently your hunt has come to an end. You hunted, Vanya.

Gradually Ivan calmed down and relaxed. Grunya placed his head more comfortably on the pillow and, stroking his hair, began to talk about her problems at home. About how their relatives and friends live. So she put him to sleep, like a little child, while talking.

Suddenly, Ivan found himself back in his winter hut.

A lamp was burning on the table. “I remember well how I put it out,” Ivan was surprised.

And suddenly he saw a column. He stood on the other side of the lamp, as if in its shadow, and looked at Ivan with his beady eyes.

“I killed him,” thought Ivan.

“You killed my flesh,” the columnist replied.

You can speak? - the hunter was even more surprised.

“I always talked to you,” the speaker answered, but you didn’t hear me. - This is the language of the heart, and your heart was closed.

But I remember well how I killed you, how I skinned you. And it turned my whole life upside down. I can't kill now. But you speak somehow mysteriously. How can you be killed and remain alive?

I repeat, you killed my flesh, but my Soul, my spirit are forever alive. They cannot be killed, although they remain in the body for some time. Eternal and infinite - in the final.

But what is the soul? And what is spirit? Many people talk about it as something that exists in the imagination, but is not real.

For the earthly bodily level of consciousness it is difficult to explain what the eternal Soul and the infinite Spirit are. This world you live in is finite. And all this is a projection or, more clearly, a creation of the infinite Spirit.

And he creates this and other finite worlds through the Soul. The soul acts as an intermediary between the Spirit and the finite worlds. This is the Spirit in the flesh. As the worlds improve and their consciousness approaches the level of the eternal and infinite, the Soul is freed from shells and flesh and again becomes pure Spirit.

You speak intelligently and incomprehensibly, like a professor.

It’s not me who speaks, God speaks through me. I told you that I am the Spirit. And the Spirit is God. I deliberately took the form of an animal so as not to scare you.

Can you appear to me as a Spirit? - Ivan asked.

And then a blinding light hit Ivana in the eyes. It was many times brighter than an electric welding fire. “That’s it, I’m blind,” thought Ivan.

“Don’t be afraid, open your eyes,” said the columnist, “I turned down my light a little.” Now you can watch.

Ivan opened his eyes. Before him stood a bright creature shimmering with all the colors of the rainbow.

And all these colors seemed to float in a soft pink light. Ivan’s whole body trembled with inexpressible joy and an aching all-encompassing feeling of love. He was ready, like a baby, to jump for joy and embrace the whole world.

What is this, what is this with me? - he exhaled.

“This is love,” the columnist answered. - One of the manifestations of Divine mercy. This is my Soul that you are able to see. Now think, could your flesh withstand the light of the Spirit?

Having gotten a little used to his new state of infantile joy, Ivan asked:

So, are all animals made of what you just showed?

Yes, and the person too.

So I have it in me too?

In all living beings on earth there is the presence of Soul and Spirit.

And why don't I feel it?

Because you all think of yourself as just a body. Your Self is your body. You work for him, cherish him, please him, worship him. But you are not the body. The body is a garment, a tool with the help of which you must realize yourself as a Soul and as a spirit, as a part of a single whole, which you call God. You and He are One. You are inseparable from him. Having come to earth and plunged into the cycle of bodily passions and pleasures, you forgot who you are.

It turns out that I am God too?

Yes, we are all part of the divine manifestation, constituting his One Body. How can you imagine your arm, leg or other body part as separate from you? They all make up single organism, and each of them performs certain activities necessary for his life.

What if I don't realize this?

That’s why you’ve been killing your little brothers all your life. You were essentially killing yourself.

How can you kill yourself by killing someone else?

You, like all other forms, live not only in this world of dense matter, but also in other, more subtle worlds. These worlds are interconnected and interdependent.

For example, an exact copy of this earthly world exists in the etheric or astral plane.

If a flower grows here, then it is there too, but it is nourished by the energy that the earthly flower produces. If you picked a flower before the time of its natural growth and withering, be so kind as to feed all other flowers of other dimensions with your energy.

If you killed, for example, an animal before the time of its natural death, you will feed the animals of all other planes of existence with your energy until the time of their natural death.

It turns out that I will never wash myself of the spilled blood.

Why? You will simply shorten your existence on Earth by several years. Therefore, all life on Earth is sacred. Killed, tore, broke - pay.

Made me suffer Living being- must experience the same thing. Nothing in this world is given for nothing and not a single action is forgiven. You have to pay for everything. That is why an ignorant person who is not aware of all this dooms himself to suffering. Doesn't know what he's doing.

What if you killed a person?

It's even more difficult here. Every person is not only a bearer of life, but also of karma. By killing him before his natural death, you will not only supply your energy to his existence in the subtle worlds, but also pay for him the debts that he incurred in his past lives.

Imagine the situation: I didn’t pay off my debts, and then, out of ignorance, I grabbed others. Instead of one bag, he shouldered two.

Murderers are unfortunate people who doom themselves to eternal torment.

In addition to all this, each person comes to earth not only to pay off his past debts, but also to fulfill some Divine program, to develop certain qualities. You prevented him from doing this, interrupted his life. Be so kind as to work out this program for him.

That is why it is customary among some nationalities to bring gifts to murderers on behalf of the relatives of the murdered person. They knew about the essence of what was happening, and even if they forgot the essence, it remained external shape ritual, speaking of past knowledge.

And suddenly the luminous creature turned into a column again.

Play with me, he asked.

Like this? - Ivan was taken aback.

I will run away, and you will catch up.

But I'm old, I'm...

“It’s okay,” the columnist said, “don’t think about the fact that you are a person, and everything will work out for you.” We are who we think we are. Imagine yourself as a columnist and you will succeed.

And he first ran across the table - Ivan followed him, then they chased each other under the table, under the bed, again on the table, under the table, and so on throughout the winter hut. Ivan was captured by a childish feeling of delight at the ease with which he ran, at his agility, agility and all-filling joy.

He laughed like a child, grabbed the speaker by the tail, by the legs; hugging each other, they rolled on the floor.

How about me? - Ivan suddenly thought and woke up. But the feeling of joy and childish delight did not leave him. He was lying in a clean bed. It was warm, cozy, the whole air, the whole atmosphere in the room was saturated with the smell of baking pancakes. The wife rattled frying pans. Something gurgled, squealed, hissed and clicked on the stove.

The oil is boiling in the frying pan, Ivan thought, reaching out sweetly and crunching.

“Get up, get up,” the wife shouted jokingly. - The roosters are already hoarse. Let's get some fresh ones, straight from the frying pan.

Ivan got up, tidied up the bed, washed, combed his hair and sat down at the table.

Come on, take some fresh ones, dip them in oil - everything is on the table.

But Ivan, without touching the pancakes, silently, as if spellbound, looked at the flushed Grunya. And his chest was bursting with joy and love for her and also with some incomprehensible melancholy or guilt before her.

“Consider that you have lived your life, but what joy did she see from me? He lived like an animal in the taiga, and she was hanging around here alone with her son.”

He got up from the table and walked up to his wife, hugged her tenderly and hoarsely squeezed out:

Forgive me, Grunya, forgive me, dear.

Grunya dropped the frying pan in surprise and, burying her face in her husband’s chest, began to cry. And tears flowed from her eyes, but they were tears of joy.

For the first time in her entire life, she felt and accepted her husband’s affection. For the first time, she saw love for herself in him. And her heart was ready to jump out of her chest and forever unite with his heart. And so that they become one inseparable whole being.

Vanya, my dear, how I’ve been waiting for you! I’ve been waiting for you all my life, and now you’re back, Vanya, you’re back, my beloved husband.

Then they sat, ate pancakes together, silently looked into each other's eyes and were the most happy people on the ground.

They wanted to go around the city shops together and do some shopping. But Ivan again caught his eye with his backpack with skins. He immediately became gloomy.

Grunya, take it all to the state industrial enterprise, hand it over yourself,” he asked. - In the meantime, I’ll take a walk around the city alone. I'll at least see what's changed here.

It was warm and sunny like February. The snow on the outskirts turned black, as if it had been fried in the sun. And he was not in the city at all, where he was taken out, where he melted. After the silence of the taiga, the noise of cars and the bustle of the city on the streets were perceived as somehow unusual. It was as if he had come here from some deserted planet. Ivan peered curiously into the faces of the people he met, hoping to catch a return glance. But everyone was immersed somewhere in themselves, in their own affairs, worries, and Ivan did not exist for them. Or rather, he was there, he came across them, but they did not notice him.

This is how,” Ivan noted to himself, “you can be among hundreds of people and be alone.”

Suddenly his gaze caught sight of a lady in a red fur coat. She took some small change from a stall. Ivan stopped next to her and stared at her fur coat; it was made of loudspeakers.

Lord, what kind of obsession is this,” Ivan begged. And again everything in his chest tightened. Again the scene in the winter hut appeared before his eyes. He mechanically followed the lady.

“Lord, how many animals have been destroyed in order to satisfy the whims of this one lady,” he thought, mechanically counting the number of animals on his fur coat. I counted to fifty. The lady stopped a minibus, and Ivan squeezed in after her.

There are 50 on the outer part of the fur coat, but how many animals went into the collar and lapels? There are 15 pieces, or even 20. The bellies, I guess, didn’t take them - the fur there is weaker and not so thick.

Are you looking at my fur coat like you want to take it off me? - the lady remarked half-jokingly.

“Yes, I would gladly take it off you if I could revive at least one of these animals that went into this fur coat of yours,” said Ivan.

What animals? - the woman was sincerely surprised. - These are just skins.

Yes, but before you get these skins, someone must catch this animal and tear off its skin. Do you understand how many living souls were lost to sew this one fur coat for you? And they are living beings just like you, and, probably, just like you, they really wanted to live.

“I didn’t skin them,” the lady remarked irritably. - This fur coat was bought with honestly earned money.

Your money or your husband's? - asked Ivan.

It doesn’t matter whose,” the lady shrugged her shoulders and blushed deeply. - I didn’t kill these animals. Let him who killed answer.

Yes, if only you would moderate your desires and whims! “I want sable, I want ermine, I want kolinaya,” Ivan mimicked. - Nobody would kill anyone. It is you who force your men to pay crazy amounts of money to satisfy your whims. It is you and your wealthy husbands and lovers who are forcing hundreds of men to go into the taiga and wage an undeclared war there against all living creatures. What are these lousy rubles of yours worth against one life of such an animal as the speaker?

Driver, let me off. I no longer want to travel with this abnormal person.

The driver stopped the taxi, and the lady, looking indignantly at Ivan, went out into the street.

Are you drunk? - asked the driver when the taxi moved on.

“I hardly drink at all,” said Ivan. - I'm a former hunter. The one who got these animals for her tore off their skins.

“I see,” said the driver. - Mine worked out too: I want a mink coat. I was already thinking: why not buy something, why not do something nice for my wife? From morning to evening I wander around the city, earning these lousy, as you say, rubles. But I listened to you, and, you know, you convinced me. Fuck her, not her fur coat. I’d rather get a computer for the kids - let them gain their senses and prepare for life. By the way, where should you go?

“At least where,” said Ivan.

Then on the square. From there you will get where you need to go.

How much do I have to pay? - Ivan asked when the taxi stopped.

“Not at all,” said the driver. - I liked you. Besides, you saved me 15-20 thousand on one fur coat. Thank you. Educate the people.

And they parted. Ivan went to his minibus. And soon he was home.

His son met him. There was no Grunya.

Well, have you seen enough of the city, inhaled city gases? - he asked.

“I’ve seen enough and breathed in,” said Ivan. -Where is mother?

I went to Gospromkhoz to hand over your spoils.

What's at the university? - Ivan asked, undressing.

There is order at the university,” the son answered.

Ivan went into his room. Here everything was strictly masculine - nothing superfluous, no pictures with girls or rockers. Bed, desk with a stack of books. Shelves with books. And a world map covering the entire wall. Calendar, some schedules. Ivan liked this strictness of his son in everyday life. Not spoiled, he noted. Grunina's merit. And when to indulge? In the house from 6-7 years old for a man. And firewood, and water, and a yard - everything is on it. Difficult. But now he can do everything. Not a quitter. Ivan took the first book he came across from the table. "Criminal Code Russian Federation", he read. The son sat down on the bed and watched his father expectantly, a little mockingly.

Lesha, do you believe in God? - Ivan suddenly asked him.

The son was confused for a second, then said innocently:

No, dad, I don't believe it.

“Wow,” the father said involuntarily. - Why did you lose faith so quickly?

And in my second year I did an experiment.

What experiment?

There was one subject I didn't know well. And then there are the exams. Well, I thought: if there is a God, let him help me pass the exam with at least a C grade. I even prayed.

So what? - asked Ivan.

“It didn’t help,” the son answered. - Since then I realized that there is no God and all this is fiction. Until you do it yourself with your own hands and your own head, no God will help.

“So he did the right thing in not helping you,” said Ivan. - He doesn’t encourage freeloaders.

And you seem to believe? - asked the son.

I don't just believe, son. I know it is there. I saw him, like I see you now, only He was very bright, very.

Well, dad, in the taiga one can imagine anything,” said the son.

And then Ivan told him everything about the column. After the story, the son was silent for some time, thinking intently about something. Then he said thoughtfully:

Well, you, dad, have shaken me, shaken me thoroughly. That's why I see you've become something different. Softer, kinder. I would even say lighter. I kept wondering what happened to you? It turns out that's what it is. I need to read and watch something, otherwise I’m a complete ignorant on this matter.

Mother came. Joyful, flushed.

Well, our nurse has come,” Ivan rejoiced. - Otherwise, here my son and I feed on the same spiritual food. We miss your pies.

It’s us now, we’ll organize it instantly,” said Grunya, undressing and going to the kitchen.

At the table, Grunya talked about what she had learned at the State Industrial Enterprise. She didn’t say a word about the fact that Ivan had again become a leader in hunting the beast. The son talked about his university affairs, his plans, his fellow students, and the girl he likes, Nadya.

We stayed like that until the evening. It was warm and cozy. It had been a long time since they all sat together and talked confidentially about everything. The lights were turned on. The son went to his room to study. Grunya stayed in the kitchen to clean up. And Ivan went into the hall. I turned on the TV in a low voice so as not to disturb my son. And tired from the impressions of the city walk, from the news, from the change in his usual hunting rhythm, wishing everyone good night, he went to bed.

God, I wish I could see the column again. Lord, have mercy, I have so much to ask him.

Ivan lay in bed with his eyes open and begged, begged, begged. I never noticed how I found myself back in the winter hut.

And again he saw the speaker, he was still sitting, just like the first time, as if slightly in the shadow of the lamp.

“Hello,” said Ivan and bowed low to the animal.

And the speaker again turned into a luminous creature. He glowed all over, glowing with a soft pink light. Ivan was again overcome by an all-consuming, trembling feeling of love.

He wanted to touch the speaker, stroke him, but the speaker recoiled from him.

You can’t touch me like that yet, you’re still too weak. Your subtle body cannot withstand my pure vibrations. It will hurt you very, very much, you may not be able to stand it. When I become an animal again, you can take me in your arms.

“I’m comprehending everything you told me,” said Ivan. “There’s a lot I don’t understand, but I’m beginning to understand a lot.” It was like I woke up. I look at the world and myself with different eyes. But much is still unclear to me. IN last time you said that we pay with our lives for everything we take from nature. But those who use our fruits, who, for example, wear a fur coat made from the animals I hunted, are they responsible?

Of course, cause and effect are inextricably linked. Everyone who succumbed to their unbridled desire to have a beautiful fur coat of animals gave birth to a reason. And as a result, hundreds of men went into the taiga to hunt for these animals, in essence, in an undeclared war against nature, against God.

Therefore, they: both the ladies who expressed a desire and those who decided to satisfy these desires, bear mutual responsibility for killing the animals. They also pay with their life potential. But in this world of consumption, it is not only hunters, fishermen, and loggers who are responsible. Those who extract all the riches from the bowels of the Earth also pay with their life potential. And along with them are all those who use this spoils.

Cause and effect are inextricably linked. And for everything in this world you have to pay. This is the law established by God. Why, for example, has the life of Russian men become shorter? Yes, because Russia produces an exorbitant amount of various raw materials. Oil, gas, coal, timber, furs are the main source of income for Russia. And you have to pay with your lives for taking away the life potential of the Earth. Other tragic events: natural, social, man-made - there are consequences of this main cause. Until humanity understands this, until it learns to live according to the law of Love (and to love means to give), it will suffer, get sick, and die.

Only by giving can you receive. Take from nature as much as you need, not as much as you want. Calm your desires. Find God within yourself. Radiate the light of Love and you will be the freest, the most happy man on the ground. This is what is called building Heaven on Earth.

Ivan shook his head.

Oh, how we are still far from this.

Nothing. God's efforts are never in vain. Everything he plans will come true. And we all, from the smallest to the greatest, walk in His harness. And no one, nothing will be lost on this Great Path of his.

And we will all get there, we will definitely get there. And let's build Heaven on Earth. For we are all inseparable from Him. And everyone brings into His consciousness a bit of their labor, their efforts. Nothing in this and other worlds is done in vain. For everything happens according to His Will. And everything that He has planned will definitely come true. Remember: only by giving can you receive.

“How can I give something away,” Ivan was surprised. - I don’t have anything. I live entirely off Mother Nature. What can I give her?

Give her your Love, Ivan. Water it with your sweat. Work hard, grow your fruits on it. Decorate it with flowers and trees. Create love and beauty, Ivan. Be a co-creator with God, not a predator. You are a creator, Ivan. And he has always been a creator. Only you forgot yourself. You are God, Ivan. Remember yourself. Remember.

The light from the column began to gradually fade. He became paler and paler.

Where are you going, columnist? - Ivan shouted in despair. - I still have so much to ask you! Wait a minute!!!

Grunya sat in bed and looked at her husband in fear.

“You screamed so much,” she said.

Ivan sat down next to her.

“I saw the column again,” he said. - He left, completely left, dissolved before my eyes, and I still had so much to ask him.

He said that I am God, and I don’t even know what that is, or rather, who God is. All my life I have been convinced that there is no God. All these are inventions of old women who have lost their minds. That's how we were taught. And now I know that He exists, but what is He?

“And look at the icons,” Grunya nodded her head towards the corner where the icons were. - There God is drawn, His Image.

No, Grunya. People invented icons. They are trying to adapt God to themselves. They are looking for him somewhere there, in heaven. But he’s not there, Grunya. He is here. Ivan touched his chest. The columnist said that God is Love. And love always arises in our heart. So, we need to look for it here. I saw His light, Grunya. It was not a column, it was God in the form of a column, but why did He choose me? Why?

Yes, because you are kind,” said Grunya, pressing her head to his chest. Ivan put his arm around her shoulders, and they felt so good that they sat almost until dawn.

Oh,” Grunya realized, “let’s go to sleep.” Tomorrow, or rather today, there are so many things that need to be done.

They lay down, and soon Grunya was snoring peacefully with her snub nose, but Ivan never fell asleep again.

“Kolonok said that in every living creature there is the same light as in him,” he thought, “which means it is in me, too, but where is it? I don't see it, I don't feel it. If it’s there, then I have to see it.”

Ivan heard Grunya get up. I felt the touch of her lips on my forehead. She got dressed and went to her workplace- to the kitchen. Ivan heard how she shoveled ashes out of the stove and how she piled firewood. Finally she struck a match.

And then it dawned on Ivan: fire, she got fire. I just struck a match on the box and a fire appeared. This means he was already in the match. And Grunya simply allowed it to manifest itself.

This means that in me and in all others there is also fire, like in a match - unmanifested. And something needs to be done to make it manifest. But what? You can't talk about boxes. Whereas? Unnoticed, Ivan fell asleep and woke up when the sun was already shining brightly in the window.

My son, as always, was rushed to the university in the morning. Grunya was alone, there were pies covered with a napkin on the table.

And when he has time,” Ivan was surprised.

Before they had time to have breakfast, there was a knock on the door.

Can? - the director of Gospromkhoz entered.

Here’s a guest,” Grunya jumped up from the table, “come to the pies, Viktor Fedorovich, undress, have breakfast with us.”

Thank you, I would love to, I know what kind of pies you have, but there’s no time, I’m following you. Today I am holding a meeting on the results of the past fishing season. The whole team gathered. You're just missing. We won't start without you. Again Ivan is first.

Ivan stood up from the table and greeted the director.

“We must speak, Ivan Ivanovich,” the director asked. - Share your experience, teach young people wisdom. Get ready, I'll wait for you in the car. At the same time, I’ll try your pies. He took some pies from the plate and went outside.

There was a crowd of people on the porch of the Gospromkhoz office and in the courtyard. This was, perhaps, the only time a year when all the hunters of the State Industrial Enterprise gathered together. People yearning for communication hugged, joked, and teased each other. They told different funny stories from my hunting life. They shared their experiences and smoked.

Seeing the director's car, the hunters, throwing away their half-smoked cigarettes, headed into the meeting room. The director and Ivan immediately went to the presidium table, and Grunya sat down on a chair in the first row.

The meeting was like a meeting. The same as last year, and the year before, and the year before last.

Ivan stood silently, leaning his hands on the podium. He looked around the hall. He met Grunya's eyes. They had love and confidence in his strength, in his capabilities.

I know that you are expecting a story from me about how to properly set traps and bags and how to lure an animal. I think you know this as well as I do. Today I want to talk about something else. Let it be completely unusual and incomprehensible for you. Let many consider me to have gone crazy in the taiga from loneliness. But if at least one person out of all those sitting here understands me, I will be glad.

You know that I spent thirty years in the taiga. For thirty years I killed our little brothers, thinking that I was doing work useful for the state. For thirty years I froze my snot in the taiga to finally realize what I was doing.

It turns out that all these years I have served vice, satisfying the whims and whims of individual ladies.

For thirty years I waged an undeclared war against every living thing in the taiga. Yes, in fact, not a war, but an elementary murder. Look what we are armed with: guns, rifles, carbines, machine guns, traps, bags, dies, loops - the most barbaric and merciless methods of extermination. What are they armed with? Nothing. Killing them is easy, deceiving them is as easy as two. They are naive and trusting, like children, and they are the children of Mother Nature. There you would look at them, admire them, and wonder how and what they live with. And we use rifles to kill them, and we trap them. Here I once met a lady in a kolin fur coat. I counted how many animals were killed on it, counted to 50. Imagine, 50 animals, 50 living souls, 50 small children.

We are reaping the harvest that we did not sow. We are taking away a life that we did not give. And each of these creatures has the same right to exist as the rest of us. All life on Earth is sacred.

“It’s not me who’s talking,” Ivan was surprised, “it’s the speaker speaking through me.”

There was deathly silence in the hall. We’ve heard different things here, but to hear something like this from a hunter with thirty years of experience...

Ivan looked at Grunya, tears flowing from her eyes. But these were not tears of disappointment, these were tears of love and joy. She recognized and did not recognize her husband. Somewhere in the depths of my heart I always felt that he was like that: kind, warm-hearted.

And then he showed up. And her heart jumped for joy. That's why she chose him like that. And she loved this one. And she saw in him the light that he had always tried to hide behind external severity, or what men were accustomed to understand as masculinity.

It turns out that we bear full responsibility for everything we do on Earth,” Ivan continued. - My hands are covered in blood up to the elbows. And I will apparently have to wash them for more than one lifetime. For the murder of every living creature we pay with our lives. That's why hunters don't live long. They die quickly. Not because they live and work in the harsh conditions of the taiga, God grant everyone to live like this: fresh air, freedom, no one bothers you, no one annoys you, you are your own master. We don’t live long because we are paying for the murder of our little brothers.

Killed - pay with your life potential. You didn’t give life, and it’s not for you to take it away.

Now I understand well why my daughter died. Healthy ten year old girl. She died overnight, as doctors said, from pneumonia. No, she didn’t die from pneumonia. We pay not only with our lives, but also with the lives of our children for taking it away from others.

There are laws in nature that we know little about. But this does not relieve us of responsibility for violating them.

After listening to me, you may ask, what should we do now? Quit hunting? And what to feed the families? How about yourself?

Yes, Gospromkhoz is mainly focused on fur production. But the experience of other farms, including foreign ones, shows that you can get not less, but much more income from the sale of mushrooms, berries, pine nuts, medicinal raw materials, hay, birch brooms, and wood, finally.

You know all this very well from the magazine “Hunting and hunting farm" It also talks about auxiliary crafts.

We have completely forgotten the art of our ancestors. They made all kinds of things from birch bark, from wicker. Leo Tolstoy's furniture was made of willow wicker. And his peasants made it for him.

I urge you, my dear comrades, I ask you, come to your senses before it’s too late, you are still very young and you have time to reconsider and adjust your life. Ponder what I have said.

Ivan came out from behind the podium, went down into the hall and walked towards the exit, Grunya following him.

The hall was silent, as if numb.

And only when he and Grunya left the door of the office, a noise was heard in the hall.

Ivan’s soul was light. He said, he still said as his heart asked. Maybe these are right, coming from the heart God's words and is there a manifested light that the speaker spoke about?

Grunya, putting her hand under his arm, clinging to him, silently walked next to him. And both of them were the happiest people on Earth.

In the evening, an old teacher came to visit them. Maria Mironovna also taught Lesha from first to fifth grade. Grunya immediately began to bustle around in the kitchen. Alexey, having greeted the teacher, became embarrassed and went to his room.

And I’m coming to you, Ivan Ivanovich,” she turned to Ivan.

My son works at the State Industrial Enterprise. And so he told me about your speech at the meeting. Everyone, of course, was shocked. Including my son. We can say that you, Ivan Ivanovich, have made a revolution in some souls. After you, a whole revolution took place in the State Industrial Enterprise. In general, you were supported. And now Gospromkhoz will rebuild its activities. The director submitted an application. He is retiring. And they put my son in his place. He fully supports you.

And this is why I came. Could you, Ivan Ivanovich, have a conversation with our children? Otherwise they become somehow cruel. They watch enough militants on TV and wave their fists and legs all day long. And sometimes in a serious way, with anger. It costs them nothing to kick a cat or dog. Talk to them, Ivan Ivanovich!

Ivan was silent. He imagined how he would enter the classroom, how 40 or 50 pairs of eyes would stare at him. And what will he talk to them about? About hunting? Or that you shouldn’t hurt animals? They need to be told a fairy tale to make it interesting. They want an action movie, but with good heroes and a good ending.

Okay,” he finally said. - I will think.

Well, the tea is ready for the table, please,” Grunya invited. - Lesha, why are you hiding? Go to the table. They drank tea and pies, talked about school, about the university, about state industrial affairs.

It’s so nice and cozy here, it smells like pies, you don’t want to leave,” said Maria Mironovna. - But it’s time to know the honor. - She said goodbye.

When should you come? - Ivan finally asked.

“Yes, come tomorrow,” the teacher was delighted. - Tomorrow at twelve o'clock, will that suit you?

“Okay, I’ll come,” said Ivan.

He got up early. He tossed and turned until midnight, still thinking, what will he talk to them about? Yes, I didn’t come up with anything. He got ready for school when it was not yet ten.

“Why so early,” Grunya was surprised, “they appointed it at eleven?”

I’ll take a walk and check my brain, maybe I’ll come up with something worthwhile,” said Ivan.

Well, with God,” said Grunya and crossed him onto the path.

It happened to her somehow by itself. She had never seen her husband off like this before.

Ivan smiled and said:

Well, now you’ll be lucky, you’ll definitely be lucky.

But no matter how much Ivan walked around the city, while he was walking to school, nothing worthwhile came to mind.

He went over in his memory all his most scary cases on the hunt. But all this was connected with murder, with blood.

“They need something good,” thought Ivan. - What about?

And so Ivan stood in front of the children, as if in front of God's judgment, and did not know what he would talk to them about. 40 or 50 curious children's eyes looked at him. Before them stood the famous hunter, the terror of wolves and bears, Hawkeye, Chingachgook - Big Snake.

Now he will tell them about how he fought a bear alone with a knife or a spear, how he fought off a pack of wolves.

“My dear boys and girls,” Ivan finally broke the prolonged silence. - I didn’t come to teach you to track down animals and birds, I came to convince you, by Christ God, to ask you that you never raise your hand against your smaller brothers: animals, birds, dogs and cats. I hunted in the taiga for 35 years. And during this time I shed so much innocent blood that I will have to wash it from these hands for the rest of my life.

He raised and showed his large, worn-out hands.

All these squirrels, chipmunks, wolves, bears, dogs, cats - all these are also people, they just look different. But they all feel the same way as we do. They are very naive and gullible. The same as you are. They are children too, children of Mother Nature. And no one has the right to take their life just because they have a beautiful skin, or tasty meat, or beautiful plumage.

Let me tell you a story about a friend whom I killed and who resurrected me.

And Ivan told them about the column, about the conversation in the taxi, expressed his thoughts about God, the responsibility of every person on earth for everything that grows, runs, flies, crawls.

The children listened to the old hunter with their mouths open. It was felt that they were absorbed in Ivan's story.

Ivan was surprised at himself. They came from somewhere Right words, fit into beautiful, literate phrases.

“It’s not me, it’s God speaking through me,” he recalled the column’s words. “He probably speaks through me too,” thought Ivan.

The bell rang for recess.

“We won’t go to recess,” the schoolchildren protested. “Tell me, tell me,” they asked Ivan, “we’ve never heard this from anyone.”

Ivan looked questioningly at the teacher. She nodded her head.

Do you know who plants forests? - Ivan asked the children.

Foresters!!! - the fifth-graders answered unanimously.

“You’re wrong,” Ivan said, smiling.

All forests or, say, 99% of the forests on the planet are planted by these small animals and birds. And they planted 100% of the cedar forests.

I have seen many times how a squirrel, having picked a cone from a cedar, ran into an open clearing and stuck the nuts into the ground. And he does this until the entire clearing is covered with nuts. The chipmunk and nuthatch do the same. And the nutcracker generally flies a kilometer or two away to old burnt areas or forest wastelands and buries pine nuts there. Look, after a year or two, young pine trees already appear there. After 15–20 years, there is already a young cedar grove standing here. The wind and spring floods help them plant firs, fir trees, birches and other trees and shrubs.

This is how our younger brothers build themselves a house and grow their daily bread. Nuts, mushrooms, berries. And we go to their house with an ax and guns, rifles, traps.

And how many forests burn down every year due to the elementary negligence of people, due to drunkenness, due to our ignorance. So who are we after this?

Imagine that certain creatures came to our cities and apartments and began to do the same thing.

In fact, this was the case during the war. How much grief and suffering she brought to people.

Let’s think for a moment: how much innocent blood, how much grief and suffering we bring to our smaller brothers in this many years of undeclared war against them.

Ivan fell silent, looking around at the thoughtful, serious faces of the children. Then he sat down on a chair, thereby indicating that the conversation was over.

And suddenly he saw how one boy lit up all over. Ivan looked and couldn’t believe his eyes: “I see the light!”

Others also had a halo of light around their heads, but it was less bright. And this one was all glowing. “Almost like a speaker,” flashed through Ivan’s mind. Well, it turns out that I lit this fire in him... It means that I have it in me, I just don’t see it yet. Maybe this is my job now - to show light in others, to awaken God in them?

Suddenly this glowing boy pulled his hand up and, without waiting for permission, jumped up and blurted out:

I propose to organize a society to protect our little brothers. And call this society “Brothers”!

Then the unimaginable began, everyone jumped up, began to offer their options, and argue.

Maria Mironovna should have a lot of work reassure everyone:

The first was Vitya Bashkuev’s proposal to organize a society for the protection of our little brothers called “Brothers”. Anyone in favor of this proposal, please vote.

Most of the children raised their hands.

The kids applauded in unison.

Ivan stood up and bowed to the guys as a sign of gratitude.

Let Vitya select an organizing committee to create this society,” continued Maria Mironovna. - This committee will develop a program and outline specific work activities. And then we will invite Ivan Ivanovich again and discuss together everything that you outline.

So they decided.

“You undoubtedly have the talent of a teacher,” said Maria Mironovna, saying goodbye.

We invited everyone to our conversations: front-line production workers and war veterans, but they didn’t listen to anyone in order to listen like you. And therefore the immediate results are society. This means you touched them to the core. “Me too,” she added and smiled gratefully.

Thank you, I will come to you when we organize everything here. You look, and the whole school is connected, and then the city. So wait for invitations and roll up your sleeves, Ivan Ivanovich.

The words of the old teacher turned out to be prophetic. Ivan never thought that his speech at school would have such an effect.

After creation organizing committee and began work to save the brothers quiet life it's over for him.

The first to come to him was the chairman of the city society of hunters and fishermen.

He was a heavyset, gloomy-looking man. Ivan knew him. They met at Gospromkhoz, but they were not close to any one company.

The chairman, groaning, got out of his UAZ and, approaching the gate, hoarsely shouted: “Can I see you for a minute!”

Ivan was cleaning up the yard and was not expecting any guests. He approached the gate. The chairman, without greeting him, gloomily handed him a piece of paper.

Here,” he said, “read it!”

« Master killer our smaller brothers, living in our city,” Ivan read. On the side there was a portrait of the chairman, and under it his last name, first name, patronymic and position.

All my life I've been respected person“, and then some brats disgraced the whole city,” the chairman said with a trembling voice.

I took this from the door of my apartment. So they also stuck it on the doors of the entrance, and on the doors of my office, and on the pillars, as if I were some kind of criminal. They say it was you who started this company, and you should clean it up. Let them apologize to me through the newspaper, radio, whatever, but so that this stigma is removed from me. Hunting is a sport, it is a recreation, and in the end it is encouraged by the state.

The chairman fell silent. He took the paper from Ivan’s hands, crumpled it up and put it in his pocket.

Well, I can sympathize with you,” said Ivan. “Yes, it was I who spoke at their school and said, or rather, convinced them that animals, birds and in general all living things cannot be killed.” That everyone, just like them, has the right to life. And that all life on earth is sacred.

Now you can go to them and convince them that killing our little brothers is good. It's better to shoot at a live target than at a paper one. Convince them that in this way a person relaxes and enjoys it, especially when he eats the raw liver of a freshly killed animal, steaming with blood. Go...

But the chairman did not let Ivan finish.

Go, you know where... I came to you like a hunter to a hunter, and you...

The chairman waved his hand in anger, as if cursing him, turned and walked towards the car.

Apparently, he didn’t understand anything, Ivan thought after him. “And he won’t understand,” he decided for some reason.

Over the course of a week, several more cars drove up to Ivan’s house, including expensive foreign cars.

And all the visitors waved leaflets in front of Ivan, similar to the one presented by the chairman of the hunting society.

Their indignation knew no bounds.

Schoolchildren also came to him - the entire organizing committee headed by Vitya Bashkuev.

Ivan Ivanovich, the school director forbade us to post leaflets and posters. Within the school, he says, you can draw anything and criticize anyone, but outside the school, I forbid you.

It turns out that the head of the city himself called our director and threatened to fire her if she didn’t stop this disgrace,” blurted out the quick-eyed girl, Vitya’s deputy.

Yes,” Ivan Ivanovich drawled thoughtfully, “you stirred up the anthill.” Apparently, you seriously offended these guys.

And the policeman detained Vitya and confiscated all the leaflets,” the girl blurted out again.

“We’ll have to go underground,” said Ivan Ivanovich.

Where? Where? - the kids didn’t understand. - What kind of underground, under the floor, or what? To a basement like ours art school driven?

“No,” Ivan smiled.

You've probably read about the revolution, about revolutionaries, about Lenin? So they carried out their work underground, i.e. secretly from the tsarist government and the gendarmerie. Leaflets and newspapers were printed in secret printing houses hidden in basements and cellars.

“Well,” said Vitya, “I like this idea.” Let's pretend that we listened to the director, say that we dissolved our organization, and we ourselves will gather the most reliable guys and girls and organize an underground.

Well, you caught it right away,” Ivan laughed. - Apparently, he was an underground worker in the past. What about the police? What if one of you is detained?

“We will be silent,” answered the boy Vanya, a short, built, strong boy.

We will say that we did this on our own initiative, without any organization,” the sharp-eyed woman said again.

We will do everything secretly,” said Vitya, “When no one is around or at night.”

Or on weekends, when everyone is sitting near the TV,” said the tall, blond boy, who had been silent until now.

Well, we’ll decide that,” said Ivan Ivanovich, “we’ll move on to underground work.” We will get together in emergencies. It’s better at my house for now, and then we’ll figure out where.

Grunya seated the entire organizing committee at the table, fed them pies, and gave them tea. And the children, happy and with a feeling of a very important secret inside, went home.

Wow, I never thought that in my old age I would have to play Timur and his team,” said Ivan Grune when the children left.

Look, Ivan, if you play too hard, they’ll drag you to the police,” Grunya remarked half-jokingly.

“And I, as a proletarian, have nothing to lose,” Ivan said in the same half-joking tone.

Well, they’ll put me in prison, well, I’ll serve five years. All real revolutionaries have been through prison, I will be stronger, and I will defend my brothers until the end of my days. At least this will somehow smooth out my guilt before Mother Nature,” he finished quite seriously.

“I’ll carry parcels for you to prison, pies are your favorite,” said Grunya.

“You are the real wife of a real underground worker,” Ivan said and, going up to his wife, hugged her tightly. And they laughed cheerfully and happily, like children.

And after the weekend, the city mayor himself came to see Ivan. He entered the house. Politely greeted the owner and the hostess.

“My name is Alexander Sergeevich,” he introduced himself.

There was no tea or pies, we talked about the weather.

Short, lean, gray eyes. There was a feeling in him inner strength, character.

Finally, the head told Ivan what he came with.

Here, Ivan Ivanovich, people are suing you,” he said. “You have excited the whole city with your deeds, your asceticism. All, one might say, the best people in the city were pilloried. Here,” he pulled out a familiar leaflet format from his pocket, apparently rolled out on a computer, “feast your eyes on it.”

On the sheet was a portrait of the head of the city and under it the signature:

“The head of the city, full name. is also engaged in the murder of our little brothers. This weekend he shot two roe deer and a hare. A shame! What an example he sets for the residents of the city and for us, the children.”

“What great fellows,” Ivan thought, “how quickly they work, the police should do it like that.”

Well, what can I tell you about this,” Ivan looked the head of the city in the eyes. “We should be proud of such children.”

The head raised his eyebrows in surprise.

“Recently in the newspaper I read an essay about a maniacal killer,” Ivan continued.

“I read it too,” said the mayor.

Especially. You probably noticed how it all started for this killer? He tortured a stray kitten in front of the residents of the house.

I don’t remember who said it, but he said it very well: do not fear the evil ones who do not offend you, but fear the indifferent, for with their silent consent all crimes on earth are committed.

If one of the residents of the house had stood up for the kitten and restrained the boy, then perhaps he would not have grown into a killer. Remember, in his revelation he admitted that his downfall began with that tortured kitten. For some reason he began to like to torture and kill. And he said: “If someone had stopped me from doing this then, perhaps it would not have turned into a phobia, into a disease.”

But either a kitten is in the entrance, or a hare or a roe deer in the wild,” the head objected.

What's the difference. Even worse. Here the boy did it in front of everyone, i.e. killed. And in nature you do the same thing, only away from human eyes and supposedly on a completely legal basis.

But you yourself have been doing this for more than 30 years. And not like us, amateurs, but professionally,” the head said.

That’s why I did it because I thought I was doing something necessary and useful for the state. But in fact, as I see it now, I was committing a crime against Mother Nature; for 30 years I waged an undeclared war against all living things in the taiga. And, of course, I will pay for it and am already paying. But I don't want others to commit the same sin that I committed.

Who gave us the right to encroach on the lives of these truly our least brothers? Yes, there are laws allowing you to do this. But who established these laws and when? How long can we cultivate the animal instincts of Stone Age man?

Killing a kitten in the entrance is immoral, but shooting a hare or a roe deer in the forest is the height of sporting valor, it is moral. We encourage our children to follow the path our ancestors walked! They must be better than us, cleaner, kinder, more merciful!

You look on TV, read the press - what’s going on: murder, rape, robbery, cruelty, violence. The fist is the right of the strong.

And who brings all this into the world, who sets an example for our children, our future, the future of the country?

Yes, we are adults. And when children try to teach us kindness and mercy, we threaten them with the police, or even court.

Don't bother us, don't get in the way, we like it that way. This is how we relax and play sports. And when a person brought up on such our immorality puts a knife to our throat, we are indignant: oh, what a disgrace, what licentiousness! And where are the police looking?

Until we realize that encroaching on any life is immoral, until we change the laws and rules that legitimize this immorality, until we ourselves become cleaner, kinder, more merciful, it is useless to demand this from others.

While Ivan spoke, the head’s facial expression changed from condescendingly ironic to serious and thoughtful.

“You know, Ivan Ivanovich,” he said after Ivan finished speaking. - I'm really grateful to you. By God, I'm not lying at all. I came here to call you to order and lawfulness, and now, thanks to you, I realized what and whom I came to protect. You are right, you are very right. I'm glad I came here and met you. Here is my hand and my full support.

The head extended his hand to Ivan, Ivan was taken aback by surprise. The behavior of previous visitors put him in a fighting mood. And here…

He shook the outstretched hand firmly.

“I’m glad you understood me,” he said.

In the near future, I will invite the head teachers and principals of all schools in the city and raise the issue of the moral education of our students. One of the questions will be yours, Ivan Ivanovich.

I kindly ask you to speak. Invite child activists. The way they will share practical experience.

The head rose from the table. I thanked the hostess for the treat, for the pies, for the tea.

“Ivan Ivanovich,” he said cordially, saying goodbye, “I ask you to come to me at any time on any question and without waiting in line, please.” I will be very glad to see you. In just an hour, you managed to transform me from an avid hunter into an ardent defender of all hares and roe deer. God bless you. And he left.

Well, your underground is over,” Grunya said after some silence.

In the presence of the head of the city, she sat quietly, like a mouse, at the edge of the table, ready at any moment to pour some hot tea or serve her favorite pies.

Apparently, it’s over,” Ivan said thoughtfully, “and with it my quiet life as a pensioner,” he added. “You just can’t imagine what a swamp we stirred up, what force we raised our hand to.” Entire factories work for hunters and fishermen. Shops, markets, fur auctions. I read that in tsarist time the sale of furs on the world market was one of Russia's main incomes. And even now Russian furs are the most valuable in the world. And they go into private hands. You imagine? Yes, these guys will hire killers for any money to take us out.

“And we’ll go underground again,” Grunya tried to change the conversation to a humorous tone.

Grunya, you naive soul, you can hide from the police, but you can’t hide anywhere from these guys. They have a network of agents all over the world worse than our former Soviet KGB.

What kind of morality is there? For them, the main thing is money.

The dollar and the ruble are their God. They worship him and for him they can send anyone, even the president himself, to the next world. So, Grunya, these are no longer toys. The head, out of the goodness of his heart, apparently did not realize what kind of business he was getting into.

Or maybe everything will work out, we’ll find a middle ground. Time will show. The main thing is for people’s consciousness to shift at least a little. Who will understand them? But many will understand and realize. After all, he understood, this man realized.

So, Grunya, let’s not undermine the economic foundations of our country,” Ivan summed up what was said. - The main thing is children. Now it will depend on them whether these factories producing hunting rifles and equipment should exist or not. To be these fur auctions or not. Whatever their consciousness will be, such will be the laws. What laws there will be, so will the country. Wait and see. The main thing is that a start has been made, the people are moving. And if the kids have taken on this, and with such support, it’s okay, Grunya, we’ll endure it.

At night, Ivan could not sleep. “Am I doing the right thing?” - he thought. Maybe I shouldn’t have made all this mess? There will be a person who will ask, why can’t you go hunting? Humanity has been doing this all its life, but now, you see, it’s impossible. You say: all life is sacred, but why is it sacred? What, my life is not sacred? Why can’t I hunt the same hares for my own pleasure? Why not sit with a fishing rod on a river, lake, or throw away your spinning rod?

This is not only for the sake of production, but for the sake of health, for the sake of good rest. Why not sip some fish soup or enjoy fresh meat by the fire?

Where and how else can we, sexually mature men, rest and relax after the stress of work?

“A columnist would answer these questions,” thought Ivan. - Eh, speakers, speakers, where are you? Why don't you come? Lord, help me deal with all this."

...And the speaker came, like the previous times, he sat in the shade of the lamp.

“Wow, my lamp is still burning,” Ivan was surprised. - And the speakers are still there and alive.

And when the speaker began to glow with rainbow light, Ivan suddenly remembered everything: who the speaker was, and why he was here again.

Ivan’s heart began to pound again with inexplicable childish delight.

Hello, hello,” he greeted the column. He had a desire to rush to hug this luminous creature. But he restrained himself, remembering the column’s previous warning. “I have so much to ask you,” he said.

Yes, you want to ask if you are doing the right thing?

Yes, yes,” Ivan was surprised.

And do you also want to know why all life on Earth is sacred?

Yes, and it is also! And much more...

You're doing the right thing, Ivan. This is your moral choice. This is a manifestation of your free will. This is the movement of your awakened Soul,” said the speaker.

Every person in this world makes his choice every hour, every minute. One man walking to hunt and enjoys the process of hunting and its ultimate goal- killing one's own kind.

I didn’t make a reservation, Ivan, exactly like myself. For everything living and even what people call “non-living” consists of the same material, the same elements, only in different proportions and different combinations. But everything is the same. And all living things on earth feel everything in approximately the same way as a person. They also have consciousness, like a person, but at their animal level. Therefore, when a person kills his own kind, he acts immorally. To some extent, this killing is justified if a person does it out of hunger or necessity, for example, when defending against an attack.

The second person makes a different choice: he stands up for the lesser brothers and thus deserves encouragement in his future birth or, perhaps, in this current life. to his moral choice he improves his karma or destiny.

Maybe most hunters would give up this business if they knew why animals should not be killed? Why is all life considered sacred? Why columns?

I'll open it for you great secret, Ivan, all life is considered sacred, because all these trees, flowers, animals are future people. It is on planet Earth that they go through their cycle of development of consciousness and form. When the time comes, these animals, having gone to another planet, will be people.

Everything in the world develops and improves according to certain cycles.

All people on Earth, before becoming human, were a stone, a plant, a fish, and a mammal.

Imagine millions of years of evolutionary work of Mother Nature to grow a person or the same hare from a stone.

Then, Ivan, a man or, let's say, former person becomes God the Creator. He will be able to create worlds and populate them with living beings. There are many Creator Gods, Ivan. And man on Earth, as well as on other planets, goes through this school of the future God the Creator. But there is, Ivan, One God, from whom we all received our being and to whom sooner or later we will all return. We cannot say anything about Him. The sages call it the Absolute or the Great Nothing, where there is Everything or the Causeless Cause of Everything and Everything in these worlds and Universes. He is One, indivisible, unchangeable and ineffable. And everything comes from Him. This is all I can reveal to you, Ivan.

Ivan was confused. He didn't know what to say, what to ask. What he heard did not fit into his everyday consciousness.

Become a Spirit, Ivan,” said the columnist.

Seek your path to the Truth. Learn, gain wisdom. Do good and radiate Love, Ivan. Learn to be a creator, I'm leaving, goodbye.

And the speaker, like last time, began to slowly melt into the air.

Search in your heart. The truth is there, echoed inside Ivan.

“The Kingdom of God is within us,” Ivan suddenly remembered the words of Jesus Christ from the Bible. “Seek His Kingdom, and the rest will be added.”

Ivan opened his eyes and saw the light. It was dazzling blue.

Who serves whom?

Strong man serves others, the weak forces, compels, compels to serve himself. There is a difference between serving and serving. Service allows you to make the weak stronger, the stupid wiser, the cowardly bolder. Service should not be confused with taking advantage of human weaknesses, which can be used as a springboard for one's own takeoff. Service should make the minister even stronger, more wise, even more loving.

Who has seen God?

“No one has seen God, and it is impossible to see him” - this is a lie launched by an ignorant consciousness, and perhaps by a conscious, highly enlightened entity and picked up by clergy. It seemed to separate man from God, making them antagonists. It seems like man is on his own, and God (whom no one has ever seen and who, in principle, is impossible to see) is on his own. The main argument of an atheist: “Show me your God?” And if it is impossible to show and see it, it means that God is the fruit of an unenlightened mind, sick imagination, ignorance and obscurantism. Wise and enlightened people say: “An atheist is God playing hide and seek with himself.” So what is God, or rather, who is He?

Only after a thorough study of spiritual cultures, the writings of various prophets, after getting acquainted with the history of religions, after spiritual experience and insights you come to a very simple conclusion, known to everyone for a long time: God is Everything. He is in the ant and in the flower, He is in the speck of dust, the atom and in man. God is ALL.

Looking at the world around you, you see God manifested. Manifested through a flower and through a tree, through a bug and a person.

That is why Christ said: “I and the Father are One; he who has seen me has seen also My Father.” He knew, or rather, was aware of what he was saying.

It’s so simple and, probably, so difficult - to see God in yourself. To help him manifest through himself, and for this you need to renounce mortal, finite, small, animal man and become infinite, become Spirit, become one with the Father.

Who will crush evil?

Evil is doomed, sooner or later it will be crushed by God.

This is roughly what it says in the Bible. This is exactly how the doctor put it in the Mayak radio broadcast on December 26, 2001 philosophical sciences, theologian Karpunin Valery Andreevich. Church ministers rely on this in their sermons.

The whole depravity of this statement, or rather, hope, is that it completely erases man from this fight against evil, relieves him of responsibility for his actions. There is no point in straining, inventing, relax - God will do everything for us. What is more here, misunderstanding or the conscious position of those who desire eternal evil? The parent, arbiter and bearer of evil is man. On the one hand, there is the blatant spiritual ignorance of our spiritual mentors, and on the other, the use of this ignorance, its cultivation by the forces of evil. For only through a person, through his awareness of the great responsibility for every thought, for every act, can God crush evil. And this will happen no earlier than a person can realize God within himself, that he is a vessel of the Holy Spirit, a tool, an instrument of God. When a person can completely subordinate his small, synthetic Self to the Divine Self. When he becomes a conscious instrument of his Father, a conscious executor of his Will. “Not my will, but Your will, Lord, be done.”

In the meantime, both churches and various sects separate man from God, raising Him to inaccessible heavens and lowering man to the infinitely sinful earth. Again, one part consciously, and the other out of ignorance, hide from a person a simple but vital truth: God already exists in a person, and you just need to build your life in such a way as to allow Him to manifest itself in you. And for this you don’t need to invent anything. Jesus Christ presented the scheme of man’s ascent to God in the form of commandments, the first of which, the most important: “Love God (in yourself) with all your soul, with all your heart, with all your flesh.” And the second: “Love your neighbor as yourself.” It seems simpler: love each other, and there will be no place for evil on this earth. But where is this love? Although we all consider ourselves Christians. Because it costs nothing, just like considering yourself a Buddhist, an Islamist, a Yahwist, a communist, etc. But to be one, to live according to the commandments of Christ in our lives on our land is extremely difficult. Why? Because for this you need to renounce your carnal self, your synthetic self, brought up in the traditions of a given society. Renounce those carnal pleasures that have been cultivated by human communities for centuries and even millennia. Subordinate your bodily, carnal desires to the needs of the Spirit, Soul. And this is not so easy. For many lives we have been slaves to our body, and in one life to become free and spiritual is a difficult task. Seraphim of Sarov only at the age of 70 could declare: “Finally, I have conquered my flesh.” This is after almost 50 years of continuous ascetic life, continuous spiritual achievement. Well, why are we worse? The road is always open, so go ahead, friends, go ahead, brothers and sisters!

C-section

A caesarean section is an indicator that the child is unwanted and unloved by the mother. This is not the result of a loving union between a man and a woman, but a tangle of future problems related to feeding and education. The child acts as a threat to my Ego, an infringement on my freedom, an encroachment on my interests, habits, material comfort.

When a mother waits for a child with love, when she lovingly calls him into this world, her birth canal opens. Example - Nadezhda. According to her physical characteristics, she could not give birth on her own, but nevertheless she gave birth, and easily, because she did it with love. Another example is Svetlana. Two children, and both came through caesarean section, as if by force, not through mother's love, and through the will of doctors and set deadline pregnancy. There is no love, there is a kind of necessity, because she is a woman and because she is married. But if it weren’t for this public pressure, she would happily give up childbearing... Ego. He does not tolerate anyone in the world except himself: “I, to me, around me, about me.”

Those who “give birth” to children by Caesarean section, instead of love, have fear for themselves, their body and their self. Children deprived of maternal love are spiritual cripples with an unhappy personal destiny. It’s good if, through their suffering, they can realize all this and forgive the spiritual ignorance of their mother, change themselves, and through themselves, their children. And if not?

However, through the circle of birth and death, through the circle of continuous suffering, a person, sooner or later, must still realize the Truth. Light the fire of love in your heart, which would burn out the darkness of ignorance, spiritual dullness and imperfection.

What is eternal life?

No matter how strange and contradictory it may seem at first glance, the path to true humility lies through bumps and potholes, through ups and downs, through the daily struggle of your Divine Self or the God Self in you with your small, but achieved cosmic scale bodily, carnal, or, as our spiritual mentors call it, “synthetic” Self. That which imagines itself above God, which subordinated to itself all the Divine aspirations of man and humanity, which placed the finite, bodily, above the infinite, Spiritual, and which reduced the Divine Man to the state of the Animal Man. Eat, drink, sleep, have fun - this is the one vicious circle, into which the synthetic self of man-God is driven. Look around, all the crimes in the world are committed at the request of this synthetic dwarf. All troubles, misfortunes, wars, tragedies and disasters are his work. He replaced divine love with sex. True humility is slavish obedience, true freedom- slavery to desires. Brothers and sisters, only begotten by Father-Mother, were separated by different sides barricades and made them enemies. It, this I, flooded the Earth with fear. And instead of living in bright dwellings, people drove themselves into voluntary prisons, turning their houses and apartments into impregnable reinforced concrete fortresses and cells. Only through awareness of the Divine Self within ourselves, awareness of our divine destiny, only aspiration towards the Eternal Spirit will help us free ourselves from the tyrannical power of our body, our exorbitant bodily needs and desires, and ultimately from death. For only life in the Spirit gives us Eternal life.

...The forest is green all around, young and dewy, And in the forest there is silence, and in the midst of the silence there is only the voice of the cuckoo. Vociferous prophet! Tell me, will I live to see the new spring? And will I come again to this forest, filled with the Aroma of spring and the sparkle of the rays...

I. Bunin

On May 10, 2014, and throughout the following week, Russian residents celebrate Forest Planting Day. Agree, it is impossible to imagine our country without deforested forests.

The Russian forest, glorified by the classics, is remembered when nostalgia sets in. The forest is dense, the forest is cool... The forest is full mysterious life, birdsong, cobwebs, trails. The forest is the guarantee of our life.

However, every year we hear how forests are rapidly declining, and millions of tons of wood are spent on paper production, construction, etc. Unfortunately, in our country, these millions are not replenished. I don’t want to think that the day will come when our grandchildren will walk across a devastated land.

How did the holiday come about?

This holiday was invented by the British John Morton from the American state of Nebraska. When a Briton moved to the Wild West in the 19th century, he was struck by the scale of forest clearing carried out by the colonists for the purpose of settlement. In 1872, John Morton proposed an annual day dedicated to gardening. The action quickly gained supporters and spread to other continents. Based on this holiday, another important holiday subsequently emerged - Earth Day.

In the last decade of the 19th century, the action appeared in Russia, schoolchildren actively participated in landscaping, and the idea was promoted by the famous domestic forester M.K. Tursky.

The year 2011 was named at the UN International Year green spaces, after this the Government of the Russian Federation approved the appearance of the holiday in Russia.

What to do on Arbor Day?

We invite everyone to spend this day at fresh air with seedlings in hands.

Of course, we will take the children with us, because they love to participate in “adult” activities.

You can go to the forestry enterprise after finding out the place and time of the event. In forestry enterprises, preparations are made in advance for Forest Planting Day: workers allocate an area for landscaping, prepare seedlings and equipment.

But it is not at all necessary to go to the forestry enterprise; you can join the mass act of goodwill at your own site.

Since our family did not have the opportunity to travel outside the city this year, we decided to work near the walls of our home.

Step 1. We choose a seedling. The children and I went to the store and chose a plant together.

Choosing a healthy seedling is extremely important, because all the characteristics of the future tree are already inherent in it.

What to pay attention to:

• a 1-2 year old seedling is suitable
• It is preferable to choose a plant from your region
• the roots must be fresh, not dried out, without growths and be in an earthen coma.
• if the trunk is crooked and cracks are visible, then it is better not to take such a plant.

In the store, a specialist will recommend fertilizer, for example, humus and bone meal.

And so, armed good mood, with shovels and gloves, we set off to choose the place of residence of our future giant. Let's trust the child to carry a shovel and watering can.

Step 2. We dig a hole. In terms of size, you need to dig it 4-5 times larger than the earthen ball of the seedling, which will allow the roots to grow freely.

Separately set aside the top layer (fertile) and the bottom. Mix the top layer with fertilizer and pour it into a mound at the bottom of the hole. Carefully distribute the roots of the seedling in the fertile layer.

Having immersed the seedling in the hole, we fill it with the remaining soil and compact it. The neck (the transition from the roots to the trunk) remains flush with the ground.

Step 3. We water our seedling. They dig a hole around the tree and pour a couple of buckets of water into it.

Step 4. Let's help the tree grow. We inspect the trunk and leaves in a timely manner, spray if necessary. The tree needs to be tied up.

To entertain children, you can learn and play rhymes with them. , for example, like this:

On the lawn by the river

We planted oak trees

It's more fun to grow, oak grove.

Joy to everyone,

To our glory!

Blossom every year

Raise the green noise

Be happy oaks

On the lawn by the river.

A. Prokofiev

Here's a couple short tales for leisure:

A fairy tale about a small oak tree.

Oika went into the forest. And in the forest there are mosquitoes: whoosh! Whoosh!.. Oika pulled out a small oak tree from the ground, sits on a stump, brushes away mosquitoes. The mosquitoes flew away to their swamp.

“I don’t need you anymore,” Oika said and threw the oak tree on the ground.

The little squirrel came running. I saw the torn oak tree and cried:

Why did you do this, Oika? If an oak tree grew, I would make a house in it...

Little Bear came running and also cried:

And I would lie on my back under him and rest...

The birds cried in the forest:

We would build nests on its branches...

Masha came and also cried:

I planted this oak tree myself...

Oika was surprised:

Oh, why are you all crying? After all, this is a very small oak tree. There are only two leaves on it.

Here the old oak tree creaked angrily:

I was so small too. If an oak tree grew, it would become tall and powerful, like me.

S. L. Prokofieva

Who plants the forest?

There were only fir trees across the river. But then oak trees appeared among the fir trees. Still very small, only three leaves sticking out of the ground.

And oak trees grow far from here. But the acorns couldn’t have flown in with the wind? They are very heavy. So someone is planting them here.

It took me a long time to guess.

One day in the fall I was walking from hunting, and I saw a jay fly low and low past me.

I hid behind a tree and began to spy on her. The jay hid something under a rotten stump and looked around: did anyone see it? And then she flew to the river.

I approached the stump, and between the roots in the hole lay two acorns: the jay hid them for the winter.

So this is where the young oak trees came from among the fir trees!

A jay will hide an acorn, and then forget where it hid it, and it will sprout.

G. Ya. Snegirev

Enjoy your day outdoors with the whole family!

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The man who planted the forest November 17th, 2016 But we already had similar story. Remember? And now I’ll tell you another similar, but no less interesting story. In 1953, French writer Jean Giono published a story called “The Man Who Planted Trees,” which was about a shepherd who single-handedly restored a forest. The story turned out to be so touching that many considered the main character, Elzear Bouffier, to be real historical character, and the author - a witness to his many years of work. The freely distributed book was a success and was a source of pride for Giono, for a long time maintaining this illusion. However, he later admitted that he invented Bouffier to “awaken in people a love of trees, or more precisely, a love of planting trees.” Indian Jadav Payeng had never heard of Giono's book, but could rightfully be called Bouffier. Unlike the latter, he actually managed to grow a forest teeming with life on a deserted sand spit in the middle of the Brahmaputra (a tributary of the Ganges). The 550-hectare green expanse is home to many rare and endangered species, including at least five tigers, one of which has recently given birth. The place where Jadhav fought alone for the existence of the forest is in Jorham district Indian state Assam is 350 kilometers from the city of Guwahati and is not easy to reach. If on a certain section of the highway you turn onto a smaller road, after 30 kilometers you will find yourself at the river bank. From there, if you are lucky enough to meet a boatman, you can move to the northern shore. Another seven kilometers and you are at Payeng's door. The surrounding area is called "Molai Kathoni" (Molai Forests) by locals - after Jadav Payeng's childhood nickname, Molai. The story began with the events of 1979, when during a flood water carried many snakes onto a sandbank in the middle of the Brahmaputra. A couple of days later, Payeng, then a 16-year-old teenager, found its shore strewn with dead amphibians. This moment changed his whole life. In the area where he lived there was not enough vegetation and trees, because of this all living things died. This empty zone was easy to see even from a satellite. “The snakes died from the heat, unable to hide in the shade of the trees. I sat and mourned their lifeless bodies. It was a massacre. I notified the forest department and asked if they could plant trees there. They told me that nothing would grow there and suggested that I try growing bamboo instead. It hurt, but I did it. There was no one to help me. Nobody was interested in this,” Payeng, who is now 47, shares his memories. Having dropped out of school and left home, the young man went to live on the spit. Unlike Robinson Crusoe, he voluntarily chose life in isolation. And he didn't have his own Friday. Every morning and every evening he watered and, if necessary, trimmed the plants under his care. After a couple of years, the sand spit turned into bamboo thickets. “And then I decided to grow ordinary trees. I collected them and planted them. I also brought red ants from the village, and was bitten several times. Red ants change the properties of the soil. What a discovery this was!” - Payeng laughs today. Soon life began to boil on the former sand spit. A wide variety of flora and fauna began to be found here, including endangered species like the one-horned rhinoceros and the Royal Bengal tiger. “After 12 years we saw hawks. Migratory birds also began to gather here. Deer and cattle began to attract predators,” says the man who created a new ecosystem with his own hands. Payeng looks like a serious environmentalist, as if he has undergone fundamental training. However, this is so, only his preparation, unlike many, was purely practical. “Nature created the food chain; Why can't we stick to it? Who will protect these animals if we, as higher beings, start hunting them?” The Assam Forest Department learned about the Molai forest only in 2008, when elephants initially trampled on the way to the forest. rice fields. The peasants were furious and wanted to cut down all the trees. But, fortunately, everyone gradually realized that the forest brings great benefits to everyone. It is better to have greenery around than a desert plain. In addition, Jadav stood up in defense of his forest and constantly said: “Better to cut me down than my forest!” It was then that conservation officer and forest protection specialist Gunin Saikia first met Jadav Payeng. “We were surprised to find such a dense forest on the sandy spit. Locals, whose houses were destroyed by an elephant herd, wanted to cut it down, but Payeng offered them his life in exchange. He treats trees and animals as if they were his own children. Seeing this, we also decided to join,” Saikia shares his impressions. - “We are amazed at this man. He's been doing this for over 30 years. If he had lived in any other country, he would have been made a hero.” Despite the sudden respect, no help was expected from the state in Payeng's case at that time. And just last year, a public forestry unit took over the work of planting trees on a 200-hectare site. Meanwhile, a member of the Indian Parliament, Bijoy Krishna Handique, representing Joharat, became interested in the history of the forest. He stated that he intends to put forward a proposal to include the territory in the reserve fund of lands excluded from agricultural use in accordance with the provisions of the law on the protection wildlife Wildlife Protection Act of 1972. And if India becomes one more nature reserve, Payeng will be incredibly happy about it. Many years passed before people realized what a great thing the local “madman” had done. Jadhav Payeng was awarded the Indian Civil Award and became a true hero of his country. His fellow citizens gave him the name Guardian of the Forests, of which he is very proud. Jadhav even calls himself the happiest man on earth. And who would disagree with this? The Indian does not receive any profit from his activities. He lives in a simple hut in the forest with his wife and three children; his only source of income is the sale of milk from the cows and buffaloes he keeps on his property. Molai is the winner of several environmental awards. In 2015, he received the fourth most important civil award India - Padma Shri. The world's chief forester calls his next task to plant a forest on another deserted section of the Brahmaputra. sources - If everyone tears the feathers of a peacock... There was no one in the cage where the beavers live. Tanya stood for a long time, waiting, maybe the beaver would come out of the hole, but she never did. Beavers do not come out during the day. And in one cage it was completely dark. Tanya thought that there was no one there, she took a closer look - two yellow eyes were burning in the darkness. It was an owl. Tanya got scared, and she and her mother quickly went to the elephant. The elephant lived in a large house with steps, it was hot, dark inside and smelled like a barn where cows live. The elephant was having lunch. The watchman piled a whole heap of hay on him and brought him a bucket of carrots. The elephant carefully sniffed the carrot with its trunk and put it into its mouth. First he ate all the carrots, and then started eating the hay. The watchman began to sweep away the remains of the hay, and the elephant pressed him against the wall. He asked him for carrots. - Well, well, don’t spoil! - the watchman shouted and hit the elephant with a broom. The elephant curled up its trunk and walked away. Tanya was returning home with her mother. – Why aren’t the elephants allowed into the kindergarten? He wants to take a walk in the sun. “The elephant is old, and there are cold puddles in the garden.” “He’ll get his feet wet and catch a cold,” Mom said. - What about the yaks? – Yaks live high in the snowy mountains, they are accustomed to the cold. And the elephant was born in India, where it is always warm. Tanya went to the window every morning and looked to see if there were still puddles in the yard. And one day in May, when green leaves bloomed on the black trees, the ground dried up and a nettle butterfly flew into the yard, Tanya shouted: - Mom, mom, the elephant is already walking! There is sand around the station, and pine trees grow on the sand. The road here turns sharply to the north, and the locomotive always unexpectedly flies out from behind the hills. Lubricants on duty are waiting for the train. But the dog Zhulka comes out to meet him first. She sits on the sand and listens. The rails begin to hum, then tap. Zhulka runs to the side. The duty officer looks at Zhulka. He coughs and adjusts his red cap. The greasers clink the lids of their oil cans. If the train comes from the north, Zhulka hides: people go on vacation on northern trains. The sailors jump out of the carriages with loud laughter and try to drag Zhulka to them. Zhulka is uncomfortable: she wags her tail, presses her ears and growls quietly. Zhulka really wants to eat. There is chewing all around and it smells delicious. Zhulka is worried - the locomotive has already started humming, but she hasn’t been given anything yet. Often Zhulka was taken so far that she spent the whole day running home. She ran past the houses where the switchmen live. They waved their flags goodbye to her. Then a big black dog chased her. In the forest, a girl was herding a goat and two kids. The kids were playing on the rails and did not obey the girl. After all, they can be crushed. The crook showed her teeth to them and growled, and the stupid goat wanted to butt her. But the worst thing was running across the bridge. In the middle stood a soldier with a gun. He was guarding the bridge. Zhulka came closer to the soldier and began to suck up: she tucked her tail and crawled up to him on her belly. The soldier angrily stamped his foot on her. And Zhulka ran to her station without looking back. “No,” she thought, “I’ll never go near a train again.” But soon Zhulka forgot all this and began begging again. One day she was taken very far, and she did not return back. Wild animal Vera had a baby squirrel. His name was Ryzhik. He ran around the room, climbed onto the lampshade, sniffed the plates on the table, climbed on the back, sat on the shoulder and unclenched Vera’s fist with his claws - looking for nuts. Ryzhik was tame and obedient. But one day, on New Year, Vera hung toys, nuts, and candies on the tree and just left the room, she wanted to bring candles, Ryzhik jumped onto the tree, grabbed the nut, and hid it in his galosh. I put the second nut under the pillow. The third nut was immediately chewed... Vera entered the room, and there was not a single nut on the tree, only silver pieces of paper were lying on the floor. She shouted at Ryzhik: - What have you done, you are not a wild animal, but a domesticated, tame one! Ryzhik no longer ran around the table, did not roll on the door, and did not unclench Vera’s fist. He stocked up from morning to evening. If he sees a piece of bread, he’ll grab it; if he sees the seeds, he’ll stuff his cheeks full, and he’ll hide everything. Ryzhik also put sunflower seeds in the guests’ pockets in reserve. Nobody knew why Ryzhik was stocking up. And then my father’s acquaintance came from the Siberian taiga and said that pine nuts did not grow in the taiga, and the birds flew away over the mountain ranges, and the squirrels gathered in countless flocks and followed the birds, and even hungry bears did not lie down in dens for the winter. Vera looked at Ryzhik and said: – You are not a tame animal, but a wild one! It’s just not clear how Ryzhik found out that there was famine in the taiga. The potatoes are ripe in our garden. And every night, wild boars - wild pigs - began to come to our hut from the forest. As soon as it got dark, my father put on a padded jacket and went to the garden with a frying pan. He hit the frying pan and scared the wild boars. But the wild boars were very cunning: dad rattled a frying pan at one end of the garden, and the wild boars ran to the other side and there they ate our potatoes. Yes, they will not so much eat as they will trample, crush into the ground. The father was very angry. He took a gun from one hunter and glued a strip of white paper to the barrel. This is so that at night you can see where to shoot. But the wild boars didn’t come to our garden at all that night. But the next day they ate even more potatoes. Then I also began to think about how to drive away the wild boars. We have a cat, Murka, and I showed the guys different tricks with her. Take and soak one piece of meat with valerian and the other with kerosene. Which smells like valerian, Murka will immediately eat, but from the kerosene she ran into the yard. The guys were very surprised. And I told the guys that the second piece was enchanted. And so I decided to drive away the wild boars with kerosene too. In the evening, I poured kerosene into a watering can and began walking around the garden with the watering can, watering the ground with kerosene. It turned out to be a kerosene path. That night I didn’t sleep, I kept waiting for them to come. But the boars did not come that night or the next day. They were completely scared. No matter where you approach the potatoes, there is a smell of kerosene everywhere. I learned from the tracks how the wild boars immediately rushed into the forest - they chickened out. I told my father that our potatoes are now enchanted. And he talked about kerosene. My father laughed because wild boars are not afraid of guns, but they were afraid of kerosene. Who plants the forest There were only fir trees across the river. But then oak trees appeared among the fir trees. They are still very small, only three leaves stick out from the ground. And oak trees grow far from here. But the acorns couldn’t have flown in with the wind? They are very heavy. So someone is planting them here. It took me a long time to guess. One day in the fall I was walking from hunting, and I saw a jay fly low and low past me. I hid behind a tree and began to spy on her. The jay hid something under a rotten stump and looked around: did anyone see it? And then she flew to the river. I approached the stump, and between the roots in the hole lay two acorns: the jay hid them for the winter. So this is where the young oak trees came from among the fir trees! A jay will hide an acorn, and then forget where it hid it, and it will sprout. In the fall, I was picking lingonberries in the taiga and came across moss, which for some reason was growing with its roots upward. Someone brought in some fresh soil and planted it like this. “Who is it,” I think, “that planted moss?” I saw that a hole had been dug under a fallen pine tree and there were many traces around, as if a barefoot man had walked, only with claws.