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My first lesson, in the eighth grade, I remember to the smallest detail. The theme was the exciting work "Mother Tea" by Angel Karaliychev. Not me - the fairy tales drew the students. As I read aloud, they listened with great attention to the silence, as if they were cohabiting with the author's characters. But I, too, have enjoyed it with them, and my tears, with increased emotion, have fluttered. As if someone was holding me to my throat, my mouth dried up and I could not continue the lesson. The silence in the room seemed to froze, and I tried to recover myself so faintly ... At that moment, the blonde girl of the first desk, who was studying me the most, imagining at first, curiously-kindly shouted, "Have you seen me yesterday in the yard? I live in the neighboring house and saw you ?!" The class relaxed and gasped suddenly, and I found strength and laugh. And, we continued the lesson with the kids - somehow closer ... I often remember when I read / shake my granddaughters this fabulous work, remembering my first school lesson as a teacher. And, surely, the blond girl in the eighth grade of the first desk, so hearty and cheerful ....
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