Marina aromstam - when the angels rest. Book When Angels Rest read online When Angels Rest read

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Medieval theologians seriously discussed how many angels could fit on the tip of a needle, but they never came to a consensus. Nothing much is known about angels yet.

They say they can fly. And they probably have wings. But do angels have legs? Is it possible to say: “The angels were knocked down”? Or should we say: “The angels lost their wings”?

Part one

1

Everything could have turned out differently if I had a dad. Then mom could consult him. She consulted and would not have sent me to study with Tatyana Vladimirovna. Tatyana Vladimirovna would not have said: “Get up! Hands behind your head! Grandfather would not have been horrified and would not have insisted on my transfer to another school. And I wouldn’t have gotten into Marsem’s class. It was Marcem who told us about the angels - that they should rest. Many years have passed since then. But when something happens to me - good or bad - I remember it.

And if I had a dad, I would never have known about angels. Therefore, it is not known whether it is good or bad that he was not there then.

Of course, I knew: it couldn’t be that dad didn’t exist at all. Somewhere - in time or space - it is sure to exist. There must be. At least on the Moon. My dad, for example, lived in distant, beautiful France, the homeland of champagne, great revolutions and brilliant artists. It's a little closer than the Moon. But, from the point of view of practical life, the homeland of artists is no different from the Moon. That’s why Natasha tried to convince me that all sorts of dads out there are just rudiments and atavisms.

Natasha pronounced the words “rudiments and atavisms” loudly and clearly and never tired of explaining their meaning. Rudiments and atavisms are organs. Man needed them when he was an animal. And then, in the course of evolution, man stopped using these organs, and they began to disappear as unnecessary. Not immediately, of course, but gradually. At first, the unnecessary organs became very small, and then completely dissolved. For unnecessary organs to disappear, a long time must pass - sometimes a million years. But for some organs this is not enough. People's tails have dissolved, and only two or three bones remain - no more. It's almost unnoticeable. But the appendix and tonsils did not resolve. They are of no use, but they cause a fair amount of trouble. That's why they are cut out. Not everyone, of course: it hurts. But it is possible to live without an appendix and tonsils. It’s even very good to live without them, because they are rudiments and atavisms.

Natasha, with brutal pleasure, also included dads in this row, although, in my opinion, they could not be equated without reservations with the appendix. But she tried her best to convey to me the essence of the latest scientific achievements: children are born not because of the presence of a father, but because of the fact that a sperm merges with an egg. Previously, perhaps, dad was necessary. But only in those days when people were completely wild. And now everything has changed. Only hooligans and some backward people who even brush their teeth with their fingers don’t understand such simple things. From Natasha’s stories, it seemed as if eggs and sperm were autonomous creatures moving in space in a mysterious way. Natasha did not stoop to clarify small details and, in support of her words, referred to an authoritative source - a children's encyclopedia called “Where did I come from?” She opened it first on one page and then on another and, with the air of a person who has eaten dog in matters of reproduction, poked her finger at the drawings. One picture showed a large diamond with a yellow ball and white bags inside, and around there were circles with tails that looked like tadpoles. Under the picture it was written: “Sperm around the egg.” In another picture, one tadpole was breaking through the outline of the diamond, so that only its tail was dangling outside. And on the third, instead of one diamond, two were drawn, pressed tightly against each other, and there was a caption: “The cell begins to divide.”

"Well? Do you see? – Natasha triumphed. According to her, it turned out that the main thing was to catch these tadpoles in time and place them in a safe place, in a test tube. And then you can dispose of them as you wish. And you don't need any dads. No stupid weddings that eat up a lot of money, no washing smelly socks, all these terrible and humiliating efforts that still end in divorce. What is divorce for a child? It's like a wound. It’s like they suddenly took something and cut something off for you. Even if it’s just some kind of rudiment.

I couldn’t object to anything here. Natasha knew better: her parents were getting divorced at that time. As a result, she completely stopped doing her homework and tested Marcyom’s patience, writing stories about a cat peeing on notebooks, about her active participation in road accidents, and about being incredibly busy on weekends due to trips to a mysterious aunt, a source of knowledge about rudiments and atavisms. In fact, she spent hours sitting on the sofa, looking at the encyclopedia and making plans to breed her own children in test tubes using the latest achievements of scientific progress. She wanted two girls and one boy.

Wanting to find a like-minded person in me, Natasha resorted to another argument: a cellular approach to the problem eliminated the risk of falling in love without reciprocity. Thanks to the autonomous existence of sperm and eggs, the lack of reciprocity did not in any way affect the ability to have children and live a happy life family life. It’s not that such a prospect made me very happy, but at that time I was in love with Yegor and needed some kind of consolation.

True, this consolation was weak. It would be a different matter if I had a dad (even if it’s a rudiment!), with whom I could walk hand in hand – to where real men’s business is done. And there we would have accidentally met Yegor and his dad, and our dads would have become friends. They would shake hands like men and do something together. And Yegor and I would help them. And they also became very good friends. They would become like brother and sister. And then Yegor would often come to visit me and dance with me in choreography lessons. He would always be there. Almost always. And if something happened, he would protect me. Or saved. After all, he is so smart, so strong and good! And all the girls would die of envy. But I wouldn’t be proud, no. Well, yes! Here I am, and here is Egor. And we are always together. What's so special about this?

But I didn't have a dad who could provide me with such happy life. He lived in the birthplace of champagne, France. And it's almost like on the Moon. Sometimes, dreaming of friendship with Yegor, I imagined how dad, on his day off, was sitting in a restaurant on the highest floor of the Eiffel Tower, with a glass of this very champagne, and in front of him, in full view, was the whole city. And he thinks: “How is my girl, my daughter? We should invite her to visit, together with her friend Yegor, to show them Paris from a bird’s eye view.”

But my dad most likely didn’t think anything like that. As his mother explained, he couldn’t think about anything at all except his tasks. He was a mathematician. To the word “mathematician” another definition was added – “crazy”. Or "genius". The choice of definition depended on my mother’s mood. My dad had a not very clear job - solving problems. At school in class we solved problems. It was possible to solve the problem for ten or fifteen minutes. Sometimes (very, very rarely) the problem was not solved at all. This meant: you need to ask someone what needs to be done. And then practice so you can cope next time. But solve problems that no one has solved before? Should I come to work specifically for this?

Mom said that dad took months to solve some complex problems. And one took a whole year - the same year when I was supposed to be born. Far and beautiful France needed a good mathematician to solve the problem. And my dad volunteered to be this mathematician. In addition, dad liked France and everything connected with it. Therefore, my grandfather took my mother and me from the maternity hospital.

Grandfather put on a white shirt - the one he once wore to the theater with his grandmother - sprayed himself with his favorite eau de toilette and came to pick us up by car. Grandfather made the most pleasant impression on the nurse who delivered the children - he looked so cheerful and young. The nurse gladly accepted the box of chocolates from him and handed him a package with lace frills, inside of which was me. The baby (that is, me) is lucky, the nurse said. And my mom too. Not like some! For some, no one comes at all. “What about them?” - Mom was scared for them. - “No way. So they go. Or they’ll catch a taxi!” Mom sighed and we went home.

2

The French problem that my dad took on had no solution. But in distant France they were not upset about this. In mathematics, this is permissible - so that there is no solution. Dad was immediately given another task to solve, and he never returned.

Therefore, the three of us lived: me, my mother and my grandfather. Mom also solved problems. Not like dad, but others. Those that “put life before her.” And solutions to these problems had to be found. Like, for example, the decision regarding my admission to first grade.

As I already said, my mother had no one to consult with - anyone near and dear. Usually she consulted with her grandfather, but her grandfather was on a business trip at that time.

And mom consulted with Aunt Valya from the next door. In fact, my mother was not going to consult with her. It happened by accident. Aunt Valya met my mother in the store and asked whether I had already been enrolled in school or not. Mom said: not yet. He and my grandfather have not yet decided where to send me. They would like to find some good teacher for me. “What do you mean ‘good’?” – Aunt Valya demanded an explanation from mom, and mom was confused.

That doesn't mean she didn't know. She knew, because she and her grandfather talked a lot about it. In such conversations, grandfather always referred to grandmother. I never saw my grandmother; she died before I was born. But, according to my grandfather, my grandmother was a very wise person. Not just wise, but great in his own way. And to argue with her ideas about life - grandfather showed this with his whole appearance - would be simply ridiculous. Especially now that she's dead.

And my grandmother believed: the most valuable thing in a person is his inner core. The core is the axis of the human personality, just as the spine is the axis of the body. It cannot be seen or touched. But the absence of a core in a person is immediately felt. And if this core existed and then broke, the whole person from the inside falls into pieces. In appearance, nothing seems to have changed, but in reality it is just a complete human wreck.

The teacher should take care of the children's cores, the grandparents thought. But how can we determine this? Now you come to school. Some woman sits there and enrolls children in first grade. You can’t ask her directly: “Tell me, do you understand internal cores?” Grandmother understood this. And grandfather understood. And he told me many times how they found a teacher for my mother.

One day in April, shortly before my mother turned seven, my grandparents were passing through the park. The weather was beautiful and the park was full of people. The spring sun lured even teachers and schoolchildren outside. The teachers stood in a group and talked, lazily responding to the occasional complaints of the children swarming around. And one teacher was far from this pile - where the children were jumping over a stream that had burst out from under the snow. The stream gurgled happily, happy that they were playing with it and that the teacher was jumping through it with the children.

But you could splash your clothes! Or get your feet wet! Grandma looked at the jumping teacher and somehow immediately guessed: this one knows about rods. (Grandfather’s face reflected mixed feelings - tenderness and full recognition of grandmother’s amazing insight.) She quietly took one girl aside and asked in which class this teacher would work next year. It turned out - in the first. Grandma immediately went to school and enrolled my mother with her.

Because grandmother was a wise woman and a great person in her own way.

The jumping teacher taught my mother for four whole years. Mom was an excellent student. And now she has become a wonderful specialist. And he’s raising such a daughter! Then grandfather stroked my head.

But when it came time to enroll me in first grade, I couldn’t use my grandmother’s method. The snow melted early that winter, and the puddles dried up quickly. Grandfather was annoyed, remembered grandmother and suggested that mother approach the task creatively. And then he went on a business trip, postponing the resolution of the issue until his return.

Mom, of course, could not explain all this to Aunt Valya from the next door. So she hesitated and began to mutter something about her attitude towards children. Aunt Valya answered sternly and categorically: “Nonsense! The teacher must give strong knowledge. That's what a good teacher is! Because primary school“This is the foundation.”

Mom did not specify what kind of foundation we were talking about. It was implied that this was already clear. The foundation in question was as invisible as the core, and my mother cowardly admitted that the foundation was more important at the moment. In addition, Aunt Valya attacked her very energetically and began to convince her that they (mother and grandfather) were wasting their time and were imagining something ridiculous. The child must go to school. Necessarily. There's nothing to lose a year. Especially for a child like me. This child also fantasizes all the time. She, Aunt Valya, saw me and knows what she is saying. This fantasy will lead to nothing good. The whole person becomes thinner from the inside and becomes like your glass. If you touch it a little, it rings, if you touch it a little, it beats. This is how we end up with people who are not adapted to life. But it needs to be roughened up. Build up the child's skin. This is what school is for. And for knowledge. So that there is a foundation. If I were my mother, Aunt Valya would run right now and sign me up to see Tatyana Vladimirovna. If there's still room there. Last week, Aunt Valya enrolled her Vanyushka in school, and there were no more places. The words about the foundation and my inability to adapt to life made a strong impression on my mother. Since there was no one to calm her down, she returned from the store and immediately went to Tatyana Vladimirovna, and she enrolled me in her class. Twenty-seventh on the list, although only twenty-five people were allowed to enroll. Tatyana Vladimirovna went to meet her mother. I found out that my grandfather had his own company, that he could help with the renovation of the classroom, and I signed it up. That's the only reason. And mom was glad that the problem was solved.

As it turns out, she was wrong.

3

Tatyana Vladimirovna and I did not get along in character. This is what mom sometimes said, explaining why dad lived in France. This is a very important reason not to live together - different characters.

So Tatyana Vladimirovna and I did not get along in character. True, no one knew about this. Neither my mother nor my grandfather, who, upon returning from a business trip, went to pay for the repair of the classroom. He returned silent and preoccupied, because when he met Tatyana Vladimirovna he could not understand whether she understood rods or not. And my mother then attacked him with reproaches that he simply felt sorry for the money, he wanted me to lose a year and grow up without any foundation, not adapted to life like your glass.

It wasn't fair. Grandfather was not against the foundation. And he never spared money if it was spent “for good purposes.” Last year he transferred money for clothes for children from orphanage, and then bought a refrigerator for a disabled society.

It was necessary to consult, said grandfather. My grandmother always consulted with him, although she was a very wise woman and a great person in her own way. Then my mother flared up and declared: she had no one to consult with. The one with whom she could consult is solving her stupid problems in France. And then I cried – because of the tasks and because of the teacher. After all, she was worried! And grandfather consoled her like a little girl and said that maybe everything would still be fine. God be with him, with the foundation. If necessary, he will pay for repairs again. Just don't let mom worry. She needs strength to raise her daughter, that is, me.

And I went to Tatyana Vladimirovna’s class.

There is such a law: you must love your first teacher. All children are subject to this law. And Tatyana Vladimirovna was very suitable for this law. She was beautiful, wearing a fashionable leather skirt and her nails painted with little orange squares.

But the dissimilarity of characters prevented me.

On September 1, Tatyana Vladimirovna brought us to class and ordered us to hand over the bouquets. First graders should go to school with flowers. This is also a law. Therefore, on the first of September there are many flowers at school. Too much. Because of this, they even lose their beauty.

We put the flowers on the table, and then Tatyana Vladimirovna put them in buckets for washing the floors. The buckets were prepared in advance, and water was already poured into them. She placed only two bouquets in vases on the table. One bouquet had a large plastic ladybug sitting on it, and the other was decorated with colorful bows. And another bouquet - small, but in gold wrapping - nestled in a jar on the windowsill.

Today is a very important day, Tatyana Vladimirovna said, the beginning of our school life. It's a holiday, so we'll draw flowers. And she showed me what to do: she drew a vase with chalk on the board, and a stem in it. On the stem there were neatly arranged leaves in a checkerboard pattern, similar to ovals, but with sharp noses, and at the end of the stem there was a flower head with a round center and even petals. A bit like chamomile. It was necessary to decorate the vase with a pattern, count how many flowers there are in it, and then raise your hand and tell Tatyana Vladimirovna.

I looked at the board and realized that I didn’t want to draw like that. Why should I draw a vase if my bouquet is sitting in a bucket?

Grandfather did not buy flowers in the store, but brought them from the dacha. I went and brought it specially. These flowers were grown by my mother. She raised them all summer, carefully weeding, tying them up and whispering some words. Maybe about how I need a foundation for my future life. Mom said that the flowers in the flowerbed are special because they will go with me to first grade.

Now my special flowers were sitting in the mopping bucket with the other bouquets, and they were cramped. I felt how cramped they were. And my flowers did not have separate petals, as in Tatyana Vladimirovna’s drawing. These were asters. I knew that “aster” meant “star”, and the shaggy heads resembled beams of light that stars eject into space. Each star has an infinite number of rays, they cannot be counted. My grandfather told me about the infinite set. He said this is the most important thing in mathematics and in life in general.

I decided to draw a huge bucket - so big that the flowers did not feel cramped. And they should have had many, many petals - not three, not four, but an infinite number - as if they were flashes of distant stars.

A little time passed, and Tatyana Vladimirovna began to ask: “How many flowers are in the vase? How many petals does each flower have? Everyone answered in turn, and she praised everyone. I imagined how happy she would be when I said: “And I have an infinite number. Because today is a holiday – the first of September, and an infinite number is the most important thing!”

Tatyana Vladimirovna, however, was not at all happy. She said you need to listen to the task carefully. And my vase is kind of strange, shapeless. Like a barrel. From now on I need to try to be careful. Then everything will turn out beautifully. And we have to do everything beautifully,” she glanced at her orange nails, “because now we are schoolchildren.” But today she forgives me. All my carelessness. Today is a holiday, the first of September, we have just begun to study, and we have everything ahead of us.

After a while there was another drawing lesson. We drew a tumbler. It was necessary to draw four circles - two large and two small - and count. And then draw a face for the tumbler and color it. I was good at drawing circles and completed the task quickly. Then I looked at the picture and saw that the drawn tumbler was very lonely. She, a tumbler, can neither lie down nor sit down. But should she do something? And she doesn’t even have anyone to talk to! And then I drew two more tumblers next to the first one - one smaller and one larger. It turned out to be a whole family. I drew a beard on the largest tumbler so that it could be seen: this is a grandfather tumbler, and next to it are a mother tumbler and a girl tumbler. Each tumbler has two large circles and two small ones. There are six big ones and six small ones. Or you can do it another way: one tumbler has four circles, and three have three times as many. Three times four. That's how my grandfather taught me to count. But this is not the main thing. The main thing is that tumblers don’t get bored when there are three of them!

Tatyana Vladimirovna walked through the rows and looked at who drew what. She looked at my album and didn’t ask me anything. I just took it and showed my tumblers to the other guys.

– What mistake did Alina make? – she asked with the usual affectionate severity, not allowing for objections and not allowing anyone to stop loving her.

Everyone immediately raised their hands and began shaking them in the air. Tatyana Vladimirovna called one fat boy, who stood up all stretched out like a soldier in a parade and said loudly:

“We were asked to draw one tumbler, and she drew three!”

And everyone immediately felt that I had done something bad. Something deeply wrong.

Tatyana Vladimirovna nodded approvingly to the soldier boy, allowed him to sit down, and then shared her suspicions with the class:

– Alina probably doesn’t know how to look. Or there's something wrong with her eyes. Some kind of illness. What is this?

She took a pencil and pointed to the tumbler grandfather.

“It’s a beard,” I said quietly. According to the rules, I had to say something.

-Did you hear? – for some time Tatyana Vladimirovna looked approvingly at the class cheered up at the command, and then called on the students to remain silent. –Have you ever seen a tumbler with a beard? And I didn't see it. Never. We are in first grade, and I am not giving you grades yet. But for this beard you would have to give a deuce.

Tatyana Vladimirovna turned to me and, returning the album, slammed it loudly:

- Remake the drawing of the house. As required. You'll show me tomorrow.

Then she began to praise the work of other children. All the children confidently counted circles, and for this Tatyana Vladimirovna gave them cardboard suns. I quietly stroked the album cover so that the tumblers would not be upset, and said: “I don’t need sunshines, but I don’t need sunnies.”

At home, I opened the album, put the picture in front of me and looked at it for a while. The tumblers did not seem to feel the shame that had befallen them, and the one with the beard looked affectionately at the smaller tumblers. This caused her eyes to move slightly to the right, giving her face a sly expression. I took pencils and drew a path along which the tumbler family immediately went for a walk. And I drew butterflies around. I really loved drawing butterflies back then. Much more than flowers. Butterflies are flowers, my mother once said. Only flying ones.

Grandfather came home from work and I showed him the picture. He looked at the tumblers for a long time and with pleasure, regretted that his grandmother did not see this, and then asked to give him a drawing. Grandfather will hang it above the table in his office. If he suddenly becomes sad, he will look at the picture and immediately stop being sad.

I tore a leaf out of the album and gave it to my grandfather. But I didn’t draw another tumbler, although I was scared: what if Tatyana Vladimirovna would start scolding me?

But she didn't. She forgot.

Marina Aromstam “When the angels rest” abbreviated

The book was written on behalf of junior high school student Alina. She talks about the events happening to her, about her relationships with her family, with classmates, shares her thoughts and experiences, and also describes the relationship with the class of her first teacher, Marcem, that is, Margarita Semyonovna.

Part 1 “When the angels rest” translation

This book is about a little girl Alina, whose mathematician father left for France before he was born to solve some scientific problems. Her grandfather took her and her mother from the maternity hospital, with whom they lived. The grandmother died before the girl was born. But grandfather said that her grandmother was a wonderful woman. She said that everyone has their own inner core. The inner core is the beginning of something.

The first teacher is the best. This is the law and cannot be broken. But for her to be the best, she must understand the rods. So the grandmother was looking for someone who understood.

“Everything could have turned out differently if I had a dad” ... - thought Alina. Although she had a grandfather and a mother, it was difficult for her to live without her father. But in the end, the mother got a man. He replaced Alina's father. This man had a son. That's why the girl got a brother. A stepbrother, of course, but still a brother.

Alina and her first teacher Tatyana Vladimirovna were unlucky. The teacher was young. But Alina didn’t like her right away, as the girl wrote, “they didn’t get along.” On September 1, everyone brought flowers to the teacher, she put several bouquets in vases, and put other flowers in buckets for cleaning the floors. This amazed the girl, since her mother herself grew her flowers, and when the teacher asked her to draw flowers in a pot, Alina drew flowers in a bucket. The teacher criticized her for this.

Alina loved to fantasize. And who doesn't love it? Then they were asked to draw a matryoshka doll. Friend. And Alina drew three - a girl, a mother and a grandfather with a beard. So that the nesting doll does not feel sad. And she was scolded for it. Only the grandfather understood his granddaughter and asked him to hang the drawing above his table. Then at school the boy Kirill was quite “out of his mind” and playfully pulled a mirror out of the teacher’s bag. The teacher punished the whole class and forced them to stand with their hands behind their heads until a mirror was found.

After this, Alina fell ill with scarlet fever, and her mother and grandfather began to think about transferring her to another school. Grandfather's friend V.G. recommended teacher Marsem, whom he met at a teacher competition.

V. was a young and talented chemist, but devoted himself to teaching. Alina’s grandfather respected him very much for this.

Part 2 “When the angels rest” translation

Alina was transferred to another class. The teacher's name was Margarita Semyonovna. But everyone called her Mars. She knew about rods. She even arranged a trip to the Dragon's Mouth. The guys had to defeat the evil Black Dragon.
Marsem talked about how everyone has their own guardian angel. He protects and helps people. And when a person does some good deed, the angel flies away to help other people. Prevents disaster. And when a person does something bad, the angel has to be with that person and not save lives.
Then a new student appeared in Marsem’s class. Krawczyk. He lived with a foster family. He was taken away from his parents as a child. However, the baby was immediately adopted. But in the class, Krawczyk offended everyone. Especially girls. But fair Marsem figured it all out.
Janusha Korczak was fond of Mars. He was a teacher. He even died along with his children in a concentration camp, although he was allowed to leave. He wrote the book "King Matt the First". It is about a boy who, after the death of his father, the king, had to take over the management of the kingdom. Subsequently, she began to introduce her educational methods into the classroom, and the portrait of Janusz Korczak remained hanging. As Marcem wrote in her diary: “Why is the portrait of Janusz Korczak hanging above her table. - Because it ends with "B"

Throughout the book there are excerpts from Marcem's diary. From there we learn her innermost thoughts and thoughts: about pedagogy, about love for children, about how to make children better and kinder. Sometimes Marcem does not behave like a teacher: “I would kill,” Marcem writes once after another prank of his charges. But this once again confirms how ambiguous the work of a teacher is and love for children is not an absolute value that a teacher should be guided by.

Marina Aromstam “When the angels rest” summary You can read a children's educational book in 15 minutes.

“When the Angels Rest” summary

Part 1 “When angels rest” summary

This book is about a little girl Alina, whose father left for France before she was born. Her grandfather took her and her mother from the maternity hospital, with whom they lived. The grandmother died before the girl was born. But grandfather said that her grandmother was a wonderful woman. She said that everyone has their own inner core. The inner core is the beginning of something.
The first teacher is the best. This is the law and cannot be broken. But for her to be the best, she must understand the rods. So the grandmother was looking for someone who understood.

“Everything could have turned out differently if I had a dad” ... - thought Alina. Even though she had a grandfather and a mother, it was difficult for her to live without her father. But, in the end, the mother got a man. He replaced Alina's father. This man had a son. That's why the girl got a brother. Not his own, of course, but still a brother.

Alina was unlucky with her first teacher. The teacher was young. But Alina didn’t like her right away, as the girl wrote, they didn’t get along in character. On September 1, everyone brought flowers to the teacher, she put several bouquets in vases, and the rest of the flowers in buckets for washing the floors. This amazed the girl, since her mother herself grew her flowers, and when the teacher asked her to draw flowers in a pot, Alina drew flowers in a bucket. The teacher criticized her for this.

Alina loved to fantasize. And who doesn't love it? Once they were asked to draw a matryoshka doll. One. And Alina drew three - a girl, a mother and a grandfather. So that the nesting doll does not get bored. And she was scolded for it. Only the grandfather understood his granddaughter and asked him to hang the drawing above his table. Then at school the boy Kirill, who was quite strange, playfully pulled a mirror out of the teacher’s bag. The teacher punished the whole class and forced them to stand with their hands behind their heads until a mirror was found.

After this, Alina fell ill with scarlet fever, and her mother and grandfather began to think about transferring her to another school. Grandfather's friend V.G. recommended Marcem, whom he met at a teacher competition.

V.G. was a young and talented chemist, but devoted himself to teaching. Alina’s grandfather respected him very much for this.

Part 2 “When the angels rest” retelling

Alina was transferred to another class. The teacher's name was Margarita Semyonovna. But everyone called her Mars. She knew about rods.

Marcem had to explain a lot to the children, ask the boys not to take or undress dolls, and not to take other people’s toys home without permission.

Marsem arranged for the children to travel to the Dragon's Mouth. The guys had to defeat the evil Black Dragon. The Black Dragon commanded the Toads, who stole the fruits and made them monsters. Dragon had no desires other than a boundless thirst for power. Only one passion haunted him: he loved to listen to children's cries. That's why his Toads scared children.

The princes had to travel and defeat Dragon. The princesses will also go on a journey and become guardians of the lives of the princes.

The girls wove colored strings of life, which were supposed to serve as lives for the princes. The boys chose their own guardians. Alina was chosen by classmate Petya, but besides her, he also chose Natasha, since there were fewer boys than girls. Petya constantly tried to be close to Alina, dancing with her in dance lessons. Petya was round, plump and thoughtful and lived with his grandmother. Petya’s mother became pregnant and became seriously ill, and since Petya was often ill, he was sent to his grandmother. Petit’s dad worked hard to pay for his mother’s treatment, and Marcem wanted him in every possible way, often in a kindergarten near her.

Alina was taken to school by her grandfather, and on the way they also picked up Petya and Natasha. Petya’s grandmother believed that Alina had a good influence on her grandson and often invited her to visit, treating her to pies.

Petya loved to build entire cities out of cubes, and when Alina came to visit him, she populated them with toys. Petya even allowed her to cause earthquakes and destroy the built city.

Part 3 “When the angels rest” retelling

The children and Marcem went into the dragon's mouth to defeat the Black Dragon. The princes and princesses were together, they had a magic veil that made them invisible so that they could pass by the Toadies. The princes needed to deal Dragon a hundred blows to defeat him.

Seeing Zhabastykh, Natasha got scared and ran out from under the covers. She was grabbed by Zhabasty and Alina rushed to save her friend. Petya saved them together, although he lost all his lives and could no longer fight Dragon.

So the children came to Dragon, hiding under a magic blanket. The princesses remained under the veil, and the princes went to fight Dragon. Wounded princes came under the blanket, because there they could rest and drink a drink of strength. When the strength of the princes was already running out, Marcem encouraged the children and Egorka delivered the last three blows.

Black Dragon was defeated. The children perceived everything that was happening as the truth, although they understood that the Toadfaces and Dragon were people in makeup.

After the adventures, Alina talked at home many times about the battle with Dragon.

Now the children were expecting a ball, and Marcem decided to invite their parents to this celebration. Alina’s mother went to train with V.G., since it was quite difficult for her grandfather to dance.

Now everyone around - both at home and at school - was exclusively occupied with thoughts about the ball.

From Marcem's diary:

When Marcem was eleven, his parents announced that they were getting a divorce. Dad left, and she and her mother lived very poorly, the girl even wore her grandmother’s shoes. Having grown up, Marsem learned that her mother divorced because of her father’s infidelity and then turned her against all relationships with men. That’s why Marcem considered herself an Amazon for some time and wanted to learn everything to do without men.

Marcem stopped communicating with her father when he asked why her mother wouldn’t buy her normal shoes. She didn’t know then that her father was paying child support.

Part 4 “When the angels rest” retelling

The ball went great - the boys were knighted and they danced with the girls. Alina’s mother came to the ball with V.G. and then it seemed to the girl that the chemist fell in love with her mother.

Marsem talked about how everyone has their own guardian angel. He protects and helps people. And when a person does some good deed, the angel flies off to help other people. Prevent disasters. And when a person does something bad, the angel has to be with that person and not save lives.
One day a new student appeared in Marsem’s class. Krawczyk. He was adopted. He was taken away from his parents in infancy. However, the baby was immediately taken away. But in the class, Krawczyk offended everyone. Especially girls. But fair Marsem figured it all out. Although after that she did not appear at school for some time. Alina, Natasha, Petya, Kravchik, Yegor came up with a plan together and apologized to Mars, after which she returned to their class.

Marcem admires Korczak. He was a teacher. He even died along with his children, although he was allowed to leave. He wrote the book "King Matt the First". It is about a boy who, after the death of his father, the king, had to take over the management of the kingdom.

V.G. made an offer to Alina’s mother, and she accepted him. It turns out in V.G. there was a son and he and Alina met at a family dinner. But when Alina’s father showed up, their engagement was called off. Both mother and Alina did not know how to react to their father’s return.

The book is written from the perspective of a junior high school student Alina. She talks about the events happening to her, about her relationships with her family, with classmates, shares her thoughts and experiences, and also describes her relationship with the class of her First Teacher, Mars, i.e. Margarita Semyonovna.
Throughout the book there are excerpts from Marcem's diary. From there we learn her secret thoughts and reasoning: about pedagogy, about love for children, about how to make children better and kinder. Sometimes Marcem does not behave like a teacher: “I would kill,” Marcem writes one day after another prank of his charges. But this once again confirms how ambiguous the work of a teacher is and that love for children is not an absolute value that should guide a teacher.

Marina Aromstam

When the angels rest

Medieval theologians seriously discussed how many angels could fit on the tip of a needle, but they never came to a consensus. Nothing much is known about angels yet.

They say they can fly. And they probably have wings. But do angels have legs? Is it possible to say: “The angels were knocked down”? Or should you say: “The angels lost their wings”?

Part one

And if I had a dad, I would never have known about angels. Therefore, it is not known whether it is good or bad that he was not there then.

Of course, I knew: it couldn’t be that dad didn’t exist at all. Somewhere - in time or space - it definitely exists. There must be. At least on the Moon. My dad, for example, lived in distant, beautiful France, the homeland of champagne, great revolutions and brilliant artists. It's a little closer than the Moon. But, from the point of view of practical life, the homeland of artists is no different from the Moon. That’s why Natasha tried to convince me that all sorts of dads out there are just rudiments and atavisms.

Part two 7

Marsem's Diary 9

Part three 11

Marsem's Diary 14

Marsem's Diary 16

Part four 16

Marsem's Diary 18

Part five 21

Part six 24

Marsem's Diary 26

Part seven 30

Marsem's Diary 31

Epilogue 34

Marsem's Diary 34

Marina Aromstam
When the angels rest

Medieval theologians seriously discussed how many angels could fit on the tip of a needle, but they never came to a consensus. Nothing much is known about angels yet.
They say they can fly. And they probably have wings. But do angels have legs? Is it possible to say: “The angels were knocked down”? Or should you say: “The angels lost their wings”?

Part one

1

Everything could have turned out differently if I had a dad. Then mom could consult him. She consulted and would not have sent me to study with Tatyana Vladimirovna. Tatyana Vladimirovna would not have said: “Get up! Hands behind your head!” Grandfather would not have been horrified and would not have insisted on my transfer to another school. And I wouldn’t have gotten into Marsem’s class. It was Marcem who told us about the angels - that they should rest. Many years have passed since then. But when something happens to me - good or bad - I remember it.

And if I had a dad, I would never have known about angels. Therefore, it is not known whether it is good or bad that he was not there then.

"Well? Do you see?" - Natasha triumphed. According to her, it turned out that the main thing was to catch these tadpoles in time and place them in a safe place, in a test tube. And then you can dispose of them as you wish. And you don't need any dads. No stupid weddings that eat up a lot of money, no washing smelly socks, all these terrible and humiliating efforts that still end in divorce. What is divorce for a child? It's like a wound. It’s like they suddenly took something and cut something off for you. Even if it’s just some kind of rudiment.

I couldn’t object to anything here. Natasha knew better: her parents were getting divorced at that time. As a result, she completely stopped doing her homework and tested Marcyom’s patience, writing stories about a cat peeing on notebooks, about her active participation in road accidents, and about being incredibly busy on weekends in connection with trips to a mysterious aunt, the source of knowledge about rudiments and atavisms. In fact, she spent hours sitting on the sofa, looking at the encyclopedia and making plans to breed her own children in test tubes using the latest achievements of scientific progress. She wanted two girls and one boy.

Wanting to find a like-minded person in me, Natasha resorted to another argument: a cellular approach to the problem eliminated the risk of falling in love without reciprocity. Thanks to the autonomous existence of sperm and eggs, the lack of reciprocity did not in any way affect the ability to have children and live a happy family life. It’s not that such a prospect made me very happy, but at that time I was in love with Yegor and needed some kind of consolation.

True, this consolation was weak. It would be a different matter if I had a dad (even if it’s a rudiment!), with whom I could walk hand in hand - to where real men’s business is done. And there we would have accidentally met Yegor and his dad, and our dads would have become friends. They would shake hands like men and do something together. And Yegor and I would help them. And they also became very good friends. They would become like brother and sister. And then Yegor would often come to visit me and dance with me in choreography lessons. He would always be there. Almost always. And if something happened, he would protect me. Or saved. After all, he is so smart, so strong and good! And all the girls would die of envy. But I wouldn’t be proud, no. Well, yes! Here I am, and here is Egor. And we are always together. What's so special about this?

But I didn’t have a dad who could provide me with such a happy life. He lived in the birthplace of champagne, France. And it's almost like on the Moon. Sometimes, dreaming of friendship with Yegor, I imagined how dad, on his day off, was sitting in a restaurant on the highest floor of the Eiffel Tower, with a glass of this very champagne, and in front of him, in full view, was the whole city. And he thinks: “How is my girl, my daughter? I should invite her to visit, together with her friend Yegor, to show them Paris from a bird’s eye view.”

But my dad most likely didn’t think anything like that. As his mother explained, he couldn’t think about anything at all except his tasks. He was a mathematician. To the word “mathematician” another definition was added - “crazy”. Or "brilliant". The choice of definition depended on my mother’s mood. My dad had a not very clear job - solving problems. At school in class we solved problems. It was possible to solve the problem for ten or fifteen minutes. Sometimes (very, very rarely) the problem was not solved at all. This meant: you need to ask someone what needs to be done. And then practice so you can cope next time. But solve problems that no one has solved before? Should I come to work specifically for this?