Morozko

Лингвист Юлия Александровна Воробьёва

ISBN 978-5-0068-4767-5

Создано в интеллектуальной издательской системе Ridero

Main Characters
(старые персонажи, знакомая, хоть и выдуманная автором история)

The Frosty Forest of Wonder

Imagine a forest touched by winter’s magic wand! The trees were dressed in sparkling white coats, like giant ice princesses. Every branch was covered in tiny, glittering crystals, so the whole forest shimmered under the pale winter sun. It wasn’t just snow – it was frost, the kind that looked like a million tiny diamonds sprinkled everywhere. The air was still and cold, but in a beautiful, clean way.

The tall pine trees stood like silent guards, their needles heavy with snow. When the windy wind whispered through them, they made a soft, shushing sound, like they were telling secrets. Between the pines, smaller trees like birch and aspen sparkled with frost, their delicate branches outlined in silver.

Everywhere you looked, there was ice! Huge icicles hung from the branches like shining swords. On the ground, the snow crunched underfoot, and sometimes, you could see little animal footprints – a fox hunting for food, a hare hopping quickly by, or even the tracks of a deer wandering through the forest.

Deep in the forest, everything felt different. It was quiet, magical, and just a little bit scary. This was Morozko’s kingdom, a place of winter miracles. It was a place to feel the beauty of the cold. It was a place where anything could happen!

The houses were made of wood, with cozy little windows that glowed warm orange in the winter evening. A thin line of smoke always curled from the chimneys, showing that people were inside, keeping warm.

The village wasn’t big. Only a few houses stood close together, surrounded by fields covered in deep snow. In summer, these fields would be green and full of flowers, but now, in winter, they were white and silent. A small, frozen river ran beside the village, where children would skate on the ice when it was safe.

On one side of the village, a great forest stretched for miles, its tall pine trees dark green and brown. On the other, the land sloped upwards to a snowy mountain. And all around the village, the fields were empty and white.

The houses were built low, with a sloping roof. Each one had a chimney, and a pretty front door. The doors were painted bright colours – red and blue and gold and green – to make them stand out against the snow.

On the doors were designs of stars and animals, carved carefully into the wood. Some had images of a white bear and a grey wolf, or a white swan with a black collar. Some had pictures of a bird with a long tail and a sharp beak.

These were the stories that people had been told as children. The bird was called the Firebird, and it could light up the sky with its feathers, which burned red, gold, green and purple.

The bear was Morozko’s friend, and he lived in the forest. As for Morozko, had pale skin, and eyes like the sea, and he was the keeper of the ice and snow, the master of all russian magic, of russian winter.

It was the time of year when the sun shone for only a few hours a day, and everything was frozen and quiet. It was a time for warm fires, and for hot soup and bread. It was a time to tell stories and sing songs, and to gather friends and family close.

But, most of all, it was a time of magic.

And magic was a very real part of the lives of the people in this village.

And you, my dear reader, do you believe in winter magic? Does your hear beat faster when the first snoflake drops? Does the winter cold make you shiver, or is it the excitement? Do you see a little boy or a little girl in the distance, and think, I wonder what they’re doing here, and who they are. Do you believe in magic?

Let’s find out.

Chapter 1: The Unkind Stepmother

Once, in a snowy village, there lived a kind girl named Nastenka. Her mother had passed away, and her father married a cruel woman who had a lazy daughter, Marfusha. The stepmother hated Nastenka and made her work day and night.

«Fetch water from the frozen river!»

«Chop wood for the fire!»

«Cook dinner for everyone!»

Story 1: «Fetch Water from the Frozen River!»

The Harsh Command

One freezing winter morning, the stepmother threw open Nastya’s bedroom door. «Wake up, lazy girl!» she shouted. «Go to the river and fetch water! The bucket must be full, or you’ll get no breakfast!»

«But, mama, the river is frozen solid,» said Nastya.

«I don’t care!» shouted her stepmother. «Go now, before I throw you out into the snow.»

So, Nastya put on her clothes and her scarf and her gloves. Then she took the buckets down to the frozen river. She picked up the heaviest one and began to chip away at the ice.

Nastya’s hand were frozen dead and she began to cry, asking for the river to have mercy on her and melt just a little bit. The ice listened to her and began to melt a little bit, and when the bucket was filled, the ice froze once again.

Nastya hurried back to the house with the water. Her stepmother was standing in the kitchen.

«Where’s my water?» asked the stepmother.

«Right here,» said Nastya, giving the water to the stepmother.

You still won’t get any breakfast since you look fat. A few days without food will do you right. Now get upstairs and get to work cleaning.»

Nastya went up the stairs and began to sweep. As she was sweeping, her sister came up to her.

«Sister, what are you doing?» asked Marfusha.

«I’m cleaning, so be quiet,» said Nastya.

Marfusha watched Nastya clean the floor and began to mess around. If not for your nasty temper and your ugliness, I would like you, but you’re too different to be liked.

«That’s enough, Marfusha,» said Nastya, «If you don’t stop I will make you.»

«Oh, so now you want to fight me, eh? Well, you’re no good at it, and you’re ugly, too. So you’re probably going to lose.»

«Just go away, Marfusha, I don’t have time for your foolishness.

Marfusha left laughing and Nastya started to cry. All alone in this house, all alone in the entire world.

Then she began to sweep, and the broom fell into the corner. Nastya looked down and saw a little mouse.

«My child, why are you crying?» asked the mouse.

«Because I have no friends, no one who likes me,» replied Nastya.

«But of course, we mice are your friends,» said the mouse.

«Mice, friends? No, no, that’s just a dream,» said Nastya, «You’re not really friends with mice.»

«Of course we are. We have no one to live with but you, and you are kind to us.»

«If you’re really friends,» said Nastya, «Would you bring my shawl to me, the one my mother gave me?»

The mouse went into the bedroom and came back with the shawl in his teeth.

«Here you are, dear girl. But don’t tell your stepmother about me.»

Nastya thanked the mouse, and when she had finished sweeping, she went down to the kitchen. There her stepmother was preparing the porridge.

«I told you not to come downstairs until the floor was clean,» said the stepmother.

«It’s clean,» said Nastya, and pointed to the dustpan.

The stepmother looked into the pan. «There’s dust in it.»

«Well, that’s where the mouse lives. He wouldn’t move.»

«And what kind of friends are those?» shouted the stepmother.

Nastya was silent. The stepmother gave her a bowl of hot porridge.

The river was far from their small wooden house. Nastya dragged the heavy wooden bucket through the snow. Her boots sank with every step, and her breath turned into little clouds in the frosty air.

Along the way, she saw a hungry sparrow pecking at ice. Nastya stopped. «Poor little bird,» she whispered. She crumbled a tiny piece of bread from her pocket and left it on a stone. The sparrow chirped happily, but Nastya couldn’t stay. «I must hurry,» she thought.

When she reached the river, it was covered with thick, shiny ice. Nastya searched until she found a small hole where animals drank. She picked up a stick and hit the ice – tap, tap, tap!

Her hands grew numb, but she kept hitting. Finally, crack! The hole opened. Cold water bubbled up. Nastya smiled and dipped her bucket into the river. Splash! The water was so cold it made her fingers ache.

Story 2: «Chop Wood for the Fire!»

The Stepmother’s Order

The next morning, Nastya’s stepmother stormed into the kitchen. Nastya was scrubbing the floor, her hands raw from the icy river water. «Stop wasting time!» the stepmother snapped. «Go chop wood! The fire is dying, and we’ll freeze because of your laziness!»

Nastya stood up slowly. Her back ached, but she didn’t complain. She pulled on her mittens – full of holes – and walked to the shed. The axe leaned against the wall, taller than her waist. «How will I lift it?» she wondered.

The axe handle was icy and rough. Nastya gripped it with both hands, but it wobbled in the air. «Chop faster!» screamed the stepmother from the window. Nastya took a deep breath and swung the axe down. Thud! It hit the log but didn’t split it.

Her arms shook. She tried again. Thud! Thud! Finally, crack! The log split into two pieces. «Yes!» Nastya whispered. But there were twenty more logs to chop.

Snow began to fall. Nastya’s mittens grew damp, and her fingers turned red. After ten logs, she felt a sharp pain. She peeked at her palm – a big, angry blister had formed. «I can’t stop,» she told herself.

A little squirrel hopped onto the woodpile, watching her. Nastya smiled weakly. «Hello, little friend,» she said. The squirrel twitched its tail as if cheering her on.

When the last log was split, Nastya stacked the wood neatly. Her hands burned, and her coat was dusted with snow. She carried an armful to the house, her boots crunching on the frosty ground.

The stepmother yanked open the door. «Took you long enough!» She grabbed a piece of wood. «This is too small! Useless girl! You’ve ruined the firewood!»

Nastya stared at the floor. The logs were perfect, but she said nothing.

That night, the family sat by the roaring fire. Nastya’s stepmother and stepsisters laughed, wrapped in thick blankets. Nastya sat in the corner, her blisters throbbing.

Quietly, she held her hands near the flames. The heat softened the pain. Through the window, she saw the little squirrel sleeping in a tree. «Thank you for staying with me,» she whispered.

The fire crackled, and for a moment, Nastya felt warm inside.

Story 3: «Cook Dinner for Everyone!»

That evening, the stepmother burst into the kitchen. Nastya was mending a torn dress by candlelight. «Stop sewing, lazy girl!» the stepmother barked. «Cook dinner! We’re starving, and your useless stepsisters won’t lift a finger!»

Nastya stood up, her legs stiff from sitting. She opened the pantry door. The shelves were nearly empty – only a wrinkled potato, a shriveled onion, and a single carrot lay in the corner. «How can I make dinner with this?» she thought. But she knew better than to argue.

The kitchen was freezing. Nastya blew on her hands to warm them and began peeling the potato. The knife was dull, and the peeling took forever. Her stepsisters, Katya and Masha, lounged by the fire, giggling. «Look at her! Cooking garbage again!» Katya sneered.

Nastya ignored them. She chopped the vegetables into tiny pieces, careful not to waste even a crumb. A mouse scurried across the floor, sniffing for food. Nastya dropped a carrot scrap for it. «Here, little one,» she whispered. «We all need to eat.»

Nastya filled a pot with water from the river and hung it over the fire. She added the vegetables, a pinch of salt, and a dried herb she found in a dusty jar. «Maybe this will help,» she said to herself.

As the soup bubbled, a warm smell filled the house. The mouse sat near her feet, watching. Even the stepsisters stopped laughing and sniffed the air. «What’s that smell?» Masha mumbled. But the stepmother glared. «Don’t praise her! It’s probably poison!»

When the soup was ready, Nastya ladled it into bowls. Her stomach growled – she hadn’t eaten all day. The family devoured the soup greedily. «More!» demanded Katya.

But the stepmother slammed her spoon on the table. «Where’s the meat? This is just dirty water and weeds! You’re a terrible cook!» She threw her bowl into the sink, shattering it. «Clean this mess and sleep in the barn tonight! No food for you!»

Nastya carried the broken pieces outside. The barn was cold and dark, but the mouse followed her. She curled up in the hay, shivering. Suddenly, she felt a tiny weight on her hand – the mouse had brought her a crumb of bread from the kitchen.

«Thank you,» Nastya whispered, her eyes wet. She split the crumb in half and shared it with the mouse. As the moon rose, she hugged her knees and thought, «At least the soup warmed them. And I’m not alone.»

Exercise 1: Fill in the Blanks

After walking in the snow, we saw animal _________ leading into the foest.

The winter morning was so cold that _________ covered all the trees.

She _________ a secret to her friend so no one else could hear.

The _________ on the roof looked like shiny swords in the sunlight.

My hands were so cold that I started _________.

The fireplace made the living room feel warm and _________.

He got _________ on his hands after chopping wood all day.

The snow was _________ under the bright winter sun.

Smoke rose from the _________ into the cold air.

She found some old jam in the _________ while cleaning the kitchen.

Exercise 2: Matching

Exercise 3: True or False!

– Frost is only found in hot climates.

– Something sparkling is dull and dark.

– If someone whispered, they spoke loudly.

– Icicles are made of frozen water.

– Footprints are left by cars.

– A cozy place is uncomfortable.

– A chimney brings water into a house.

– Blisters are usually caused by rubbing.

– A pantry is for storing clothes.

– If you are shivering, you are probably cold.

Exercise 4: Listen «The Stepmother’s Frosty Heart’ and fill in the gaps

True or False

– Agatha was always a cruel and wicked woman.

– Agatha met Nastya’s father at the Magical Creature Market.

– Agatha admired Nastya’s kindness and beauty.

– Agatha’s cottage had a well-stocked pantry.

– Nastya was friends with a bear and a squirrel.

– Agatha thought Nastya’s kindness was a strength.

– Agatha liked living in Nastya’s father’s home.

– Nastya enjoyed all the work her Stepmother made her do.

– Agatha wanted to learn how to make animal friends like Nastya.

– Agatha’s heart grew colder as she spent time with Nastya.

Chapter 2: Sent to the Forest

The Cruelest Command

The next morning, the stepmother woke Nastya before sunrise. «Get up, lazy bones!» she shouted, tearing the blanket off Nastya. «Go to the forest and collect pinecones! Fill this basket – don’t come back until it’s full!» She threw a cracked wooden basket at Nastya’s feet.

Nastya’s heart sank. The forest was dark and filled with wolves. But she knew arguing was useless. She wrapped herself in her thin shawl, slipped on her worn boots, and stepped into the icy wind.

One winter morning, Ivan was chopping wood. The air was icy, and his breath looked like little clouds. Suddenly, he heard a noise – snap! – like a branch breaking.

«Is that a wolf?» Ivan thought. He grabbed his axe and followed the sound.

Behind a tall pine tree, Ivan saw a girl in a thin blue coat. She was shivering, trying to pick up pinecones with red, frozen fingers. Her basket was almost empty.

«Hello?» Ivan said kindly. The girl jumped. She had big, scared eyes, like a rabbit.

«D-don’t hurt me,» she whispered.

«Hurt you?» Ivan laughed. «I’m Ivan! I only hurt trees!» He pointed to his axe. «What’s your name?»

«Nastya,» she said softly.

Ivan noticed Nastya’s old boots and torn mittens. «You’re freezing! Here – take my gloves.» He pulled off his thick wool gloves and handed them to her.

«But… you need them,» Nastya said.

«My hands are tough like tree bark!» Ivan grinned. «See?» He knocked on his palm like it was wood. Nastya giggled – a tiny, nervous sound.

Ivan’s squirrel, Nutty, popped out of his pocket. «This is Nutty. He loves pinecones!» Ivan said.

«Hello, Nutty,» Nastya whispered. The squirrel sniffed her hand, then suddenly darted up a tree. Crash! A bunch of pinecones fell into Nastya’s basket.

«Nutty, you’re a hero!» Ivan laughed. Nastya’s smile grew bigger.

As they walked, Nastya told Ivan about her cruel stepmother. «She sent me to collect pinecones… and I can’t go home until the basket is full.»

Ivan frowned. «That’s not fair! Parents should be like… warm soup!» He made a silly face, and Nastya laughed again.

When the basket was full, Ivan walked Nastya to the edge of the forest. «Come visit Pinegrove! My mom’s bread will make you strong… or maybe fat!» He patted his stomach.

Nastya smiled. «Thank you, Ivan. You’re… very kind.»

«Kind? No, I’m just scared of squirrels!» He pointed at Nutty, who was chasing his own tail.

As Nastya left, Ivan tripped over a root and fell into the snow. «The snow wanted a hug!» he shouted. Nastya’s laughter echoed through the trees.

Snow crunched under Nastya’s boots as she walked backed home. The trees loomed like giants, their branches clawing at the sky. Every noise – a twig snapping, an owl hooting – made her jump. «Don’t be afraid,» she whispered to herself. «Just keep going.»

Suddenly, the wind howled louder. A tall figure appeared between the trees. His coat glittered with frost, and his eyes shone like icy stars. It was Morozko, the Winter Spirit.

«Why are you alone in the forest, child?» he boomed, his voice echoing like cracking ice.

Nastya trembled but curtsied politely. «My stepmother sent me to gather pinecones, sir. I found them all and going back home»

Morozko’s beard twitched. «Are you cold, little one?»

«Y-yes,» she stammered. «But I don’t mind. The snow is… very pretty.»

Morozko raised his hand. The wind roared, and the temperature dropped. Nastya’s shawl stiffened with frost, and her breath turned to ice crystals. «Are you still cold?» he asked sharply.

Nastya’s teeth chattered, but she smiled. «It’s not so bad, sir. The forest is quiet, and the stars are bright tonight.»

Morozko narrowed his eyes. «You’re hungry too, aren’t you?»

Nastya glanced at him, «I am, sir. But maybe the animals need food more than me.» She pulled a dried berry from her pocket – her last bite – and placed it on a stone for the birds.

Morozko’s face softened. «You’re kind, child, even in hardship. For that, you deserve warmth.» He stamped his staff. Crack! A fire burst to life in a nearby hollow tree.