ЭХО ЧУЖОГО ИМЕНИ (на английском языке)
ECHO OF A STRANGER’S NAME
Once upon a time there lived a girl. Her friends never called her by her name, since she didn’t tell them her name and even didn’t remember it. Everybody called her as they wished. And she always responded. Her parents had to remind her about it every morning, while she fluttered eyelashes and nodded half-awake what made her parents happy and content.
One sunny day the girl went with her friends to a picnic near the lake. The children split into groups and ran in all directions. Little girl followed a group of peers. Since she was a few years younger than her companions, they didn’t bother to keep company with her. The diversity of nature enticed the little girl into the flower meadow. She knew that she in now behind the friends, but it was very difficult to catch up, and the children did not notice that she is not around.
Hunkering down a bit and she peered into each flower and studied the patterns.
- Amazing beauty! I shall make a mini-bouquet - she thought.
She remembered her Cuisenaire rods. One flower, two flowers, then three, four and.......
Bzzzzzz - something buzzed behind her.
- Oh, Mommy what is it? - She thought. She fell to the ground of fright and began to squeak. Although she put her palms of her face her scream was heard far and wide.
Where, where is she, what's that noise? - called Elvin. Friends immediately rushed to help her. Running up to her, they tried to comfort her saying:
- Come, come, do not cry....
- Silly, it's just a bee
-Oh my little girl…
That’s what the little girl heard from her friends. An old lady was passing by and she couldn’t stay indifferent. Her a bit rusty old cane and a worn shawl almost scared the children, but then she smiled. Her smiling face was lit up with maternal care and kindness. She hurried to ask the children:
- Why do not you call her name?
- We do not know her name, and she cannot remember her name - said the boy. (Laughing slightly).
- If we only knew that she is such a cow-baby, we would never agree to take her with us - outraged one of the kids.
One of the girls rising from her squatting position, weakly whisper: Her name is Bead. Her mother told me so.
The girl was very scared but she wiped tears away by her mud-gray hands - Yes, yes ... My name is Bead and I'm not a cow-baby - she said bravely. My name is Bead. Be-ad as parents called me. You always told me that I cannot remember my name, so I’ve forgotten it, and now I will remember it forever - replied the little girl with a smile.
The old woman gathered all kids and said without any hesitation: Treat everyone with respect, especially with respect to your own and others’ names. Sometimes the power and meaning of your words tell more than actions themselves.
Khamzina Assemgul, Kazahstan. Astana
Перевод текста Алия Абаканова-Пистаева Президент ОФ BEST FOR KIDS г. Астана