"Smoker is his own gravedigger"

Target:

Tell students about the history of smoking;

Show the harmful effects of harmful substances on the human body;

Develop a negative attitude towards smoking.

Plan of the event:

I. Introductory part - Organizational moment.

II. The main part is the lesson.

III. Outcome. Rewarding.

Course progress.

I. Organizational moment.

1. Children are seated at 2 - 3 tables, i.e. are divided into groups.

2. Communication of the topic and purpose of the lesson.

II. Main part.

Today we will talk about what smoking is and what effect it has on the human body. Many people say that smoking does not affect health in any way. And what do you think? (Children's answers.)

Listen to the poem and answer the question: “Why do people smoke?”.

(Child reads.)

A camel was walking through the desert.The camel carried a pood of goods.Thoughts tormented him:Why do people smoke?

After all, smoking is bad!Everyone knows from childhood.But contrary to teaching -Even old people smoke!

Are they all stupidMan among animals?If a camel smokedWho would carry the cargo?

There is an expression: “Health is not everything, but everything without health is nothing!” How do you understand the meaning of these words? (Children's answers.)

- Listen to the folk tale: ( child reads.)

An old man in the market sells tobacco and says:

- “Buy tobacco! My tobacco is not simple, but with a secret. A dog won’t bite from him, a thief won’t get into the house, you won’t become an old man!

The young man approached the seller and said:

“Why doesn’t the dog bite?”

- “Because you will walk with a stick!”

- "Why doesn't a thief get into the house?"

- “So you will cough all night!”

“Why don’t I become an old man?”

- “Because you won’t live to old age!”

It turns out that we ourselves can make ourselves a healthy or sick person. Scientists tell us that smoking brings great harm to our health. We cannot but agree with their arguments, because they are based on practical research.

But, let's try to figure it out ourselves. What do you think contributes to this or that behavior of people? (Answers - Habits.)

What are the habits? (Answers are helpful and harmful.) Name good habits. (Answers.) Name bad habits. (Answers.)

What do you think smoking habits are? (Answers.)

Can you say in your own words what a habit is? (Answers.)

And now let's read precise definition

The most common bad habit is smoking. And the worst thing is that children and teenagers also start smoking without realizing how dangerous it is.

But now everyone says that smoking is a big harm!

Why do you think children begin to follow this habit? (Answers are to appear more mature.)

What harm can smoking cause? (Answers.)

See how many dangerous substances are in cigarette smoke.

What do you think is the most dangerous of this list? (Answers are nicotine.)

Now the guys will show you a staging of a fairy tale, notice how health has changed main character after she started smoking.

Fairy tale "Fly-Tsokotuha".

Fly, fly-sokotuha,

gilded belly,

The fly went across the field,

She found tobacco.

The little fly sat in the carriage,

I smoked a cigarette

Indulged in tobacco

Choking on smoke...

And the nasty spider-tobacco

They dragged our fly into a corner.

Offers a cigarette

Promises a long life.

Whose health and success,

And healthy children's laughter.

Tsokotuha smiled,

I puffed on the cigarette...

So many days have passed

Look, what's wrong with her?

Our fly has changed

Turned into a disabled person.

Eyes don't glow anymore

Teeth shine yellow

Heart is beating wildly

The dress is fiddling nervously.

- "Give the fly tobacco!"

- "More, brothers, I can not!"

Started screaming furiously

- “No, more, strength to be silent!”

Suddenly out of nowhere -

little mosquito,

And in his hand it burns -

Small flashlight.

- "Fly, fly, don't be stupid,

Drop the cigar, don't smoke.

I'm flying from the seminar

And I want to help you.

Better, fly, dance,

Read and write.

Breathe fresh air

Put out the cigarette.

You will be good, fly -

Your soul will flourish.

And with you we are together

We can live without a cigar.

Don't be afraid old man

You are afraid of tobacco.

This evil web

Consists of nicotine.

Substances pass into the blood

You weaken again and again.

Frightened by the clatter

Shaking her green belly:

- "Help me, mosquito,

I'll put a samovar.

We'll drink tea with you

We live very well together.

Now I will become exemplary

And I will stop smoking.

I promise not to grieve

Do not be friends with a cigarette!

And since then they live

And take care of your health!

Why do people smoke?
Will someone give me an answer?
Here is the story:
Born on the second of May.
Two babies, two boys,
Two beautiful rascals.
They go to school together
They study for "pyataki".
A beautiful life goes by
But not here, wait:
One began to smoke - trouble!
Friends went their separate ways,
They always quarrel
Their dreams were shattered

Twenty years have passed
Then friends met
Everything that was, everything is gone:
Grief, happiness and trouble.
We looked at each other
Frozen with fright.
Like they were born together
Grew up:
And take a look!
- What happened to you now? -
He says who did not smoke.
- Liver, heart limped,
- Became thin. What, are you drunk?
- Not.
- Do you smoke?
- Yes, I smoke.
And I can't quit!
- Well, I'm a healthy way
I lead my life every day
And in the pool, and for walks,
I swim, I go to the gym.
Cigarette in our life
Takes five minutes.
You smoked them half a dozen -
Live less, friend!

What is the point?
- Don't smoke!
We must value life!
And health is important -
Everyone can save!
To keep health
Strengthen your body
All my family knows
There must be a routine for the day.

You guys should know:Everyone needs more sleep.Well, in the morning do not be lazy -Get on the charger!

brush your teeth, wash your face,And smile more oftenTemper, and then -You are not afraid of blues.

Health has enemiesDon't be friends with them!Among them is quiet laziness,Fight it every day.

So that not a single microbeDidn't accidentally get into the mouthWash hands before eatingYou need soap and water.

Eat vegetables and fruitsFish, dairy productsHere is healthy foodFull of vitamins!

Go out for a walkBreathe fresh air.Just remember when leaving:Dress for the weather!

Well, what if it happened:Got sick,Know it's time for you to see a doctor.He will always help us!

Here are some good tipsSecrets are hidden in them.How to keep healthy.Learn to appreciate it!

“Prisoners of Love” are stories of love and hate, the characters are able to love, to fight for their love, for them to breathe means to love, to love is to breathe. Half of the book is devoted to poets Silver Age, these stories were intended for literature lessons to show all the charm and all the complexity of that time.

KING OF ARTISTS - ARTIST OF KINGS

The wave quickly rushed to the shore. The young man painted magnificent canvases on the sand, which were immediately mercilessly washed away. But he was not sad, but laughed, because he knew that he would create even better creations. The fact that these paintings were so fragile had its own charm, and there was no one to regret that the creations disappeared without a trace.

He needed to improve, because he hoped to achieve the highest skill, which is achieved only after incredible efforts.

How unique paintings dissolved in the vast expanses of the sea, no one knew this and never will know.

Then Paul returned home tired, but almost happy, and endured best drawings on paper. Perhaps that is why they seemed so complete, so magnificent from the very beginning, and it seemed to those who visited that work that everything was too easy for him. Even the strictest of his critics, his elder brother Philip, was sure of this.

Most of all he worried and feared for the fate of Peter. He always communicated with people of art and could imagine what kind of fate awaits his younger brother. And when these unrest broke out, Peter said:

“I will be the king of artists.

But he did not say this because he so unconditionally believed in his own genius, but emphasized that he would never allow weaknesses to triumph, he would never submit to passions that easily destroy anyone, but a creative person in the first place.

Peter Paul never promised that he would give up painting, because he knew for sure that he would not be able to fulfill such a promise, she was the meaning of his life, his faith and hope, without her life lost colors, smells, taste.

But Philip never demanded such promises from him. He knew that it was Titian, the one who talked to kings and cardinals, and they needed him, although his fate was more of an exception than the rule. But this great Italian left hope for his brother as well. HE promised himself that he would do everything possible and impossible so that Peter would not become like those unfortunate people who walk around with outstretched hands, always dirty and drunk and draw the same beggars and miserable people like themselves. Then they give away their creations for free to those who will never be able to appreciate them, and all the time they complain about fate and curse the world.

This will not happen, only the best, only portraits of kings, and he will become not only the king of artists, as he himself claims, but also the artist of kings, and without this goal you should not pick up a brush and spend money on canvases and paints.

“You will be the artist of kings,” Philip promised him. The young man looked at him impetuously, but said nothing.

He knew that you can achieve a lot in life if you know exactly what you want.

When Philip introduced him to scientists, philosophers and writers, he did not talk about his brother's talents. And when he began to draw the interlocutors, so much so that any of them was in a hurry, glancing at the drawings, they were delighted and invariably took the drawings with them. They talked about the fact that those times will come when, when they will not be able to approach him.

He only smiled. He was not particularly worried about his own triumph, he knew that it would be so. He just knew that he came into this world to capture it on his canvases.

It was hard to remember who was the first to say that the young man was so talented, but the portraits of the nobles flaunted in all the houses of the nobility, and if not today, then tomorrow the king will see them.

FROM light hand these people he went on his first journey and ended up at the court of the English king. This was only the beginning, then the king of Spain, and the French accepted with great joy young artist and everywhere he was a dear guest. Now Titian himself, if he were alive, would envy the young artist, his mind and incredible charm.

He quickly took off and became an artist of kings, but not just became, he remained one.

They say that if God gives one thing, he takes another. Favored by all of Europe, Peter must probably be unhappy in love.

But who told you this? As soon as he returned home, he met his Isabella. And he fell in love, so much so that for all 17 years he only idolized her, and portrayed her with such love and admiration that even skeptics who never believed anyone had no doubt that she was the only and beloved woman in his life . And in this he opposed the promiscuity of all Bohemia and was too tall and proud to indulge in all serious, moving from one skirt to another.

If there were any fashions, then he became a trendsetter of completely different styles. And all the free priests of art had to move away from him, to remain somewhere below the line.

Isabella was magnificent, and with undisguised delight he led her to the crown, which of his comrades in the shop could so vividly show his love for his own, and not for someone else's wife.

And the artists began to talk about his mediocrity, about pride, about arrogance, but through all the righteous anger, only anger and envy showed through. But since there was no answer, they had to disperse again to their corners, consoling themselves with the fact that kings are capricious and captious, they will soon change everything, and then it will still be clear who and whom.

But what does he care about these feelings, if the world is so huge and interesting.

He returned home from a trip to Europe when his first child was due.

A beautiful girl was born. He picked up the child in his arms and pressed him to his chest so that he felt the warmth of the child's body. How good was his Clara. He lightly circled her around the room, carefully looking at his child, it was the most perfect of the artist's creations, he would have confessed to anyone in those moments.

“Paul, you will strangle her,” he heard his brother’s voice in a whirlwind of happiness.

He looked at them and could not understand all the enthusiasm and impulses, as if no one else had ever had children.

“Remember how you painted the darkest pictures of my future,” he suddenly reminded.

“That’s why I drew so that you could avoid all troubles,” he said, “but I never doubted that you are smart and insightful, because there were also Titian and Raphael, only this path is much more difficult than the other one.

And then he talked about the deplorable fate of the recently famous artist.

“Who would have thought,” Philip wondered, “a few years ago he was sure that Titian would die of envy looking at him.

Isabella listened attentively to their conversation. She loved her husband more and more every day, and all the time she thanked God for giving her her Peter.

From the very beginning to the end he was famous, high and far from the earth. There are creators who, even at birth, are recorded as celestials, they don’t need to prove anything to anyone, the rest hate and envy, indignant at the injustice that reigned in the world. And why should he be fair, and if they had to change places, would they themselves refuse such a place under the sun? Hardly. And yet, nevertheless.

He had students all the time, and he fiddled with them, not noticing their whims and all dark sides which they sometimes revealed to the world. He did not bring anyone closer to him, although he did not push anyone away, they always came and went on their own.

Then the artist could not remember who brought this young man to him, how he ended up in their house. How dark were his paintings. He could not but appreciate the skill, but he could not accept this world, although he tried to be generous.

But the young man himself seemed to be an easy and cheerful creature.

“You are the king of artists, that’s what everyone says,” he said without any fawning.

Peter did not answer this, he just grinned, with all his appearance he emphasized that a little time would pass, and he would bypass him in everything.

It was even funny, he probably did not know that the one whom he called the king of artists never competed with anyone, believing that everyone has only his own place in the sun, and no one will be able to take someone else's. But he did not say anything to the young talent.

“He is an artist of kings,” Rembrandt thought to himself, and could not understand how one thing in this man could be combined with another.

But this is how a court painter should be, tall, handsome, dressed to the nines, speech of a diplomat, they say, he often fulfills orders from one or another king, that's why he travels so calmly.

And Peter himself recalled at that moment how the infamous duke, looking at his canvases, asked:

– Are you a diplomat involved in painting?

- No, - he answered then, - a painter involved in diplomacy.

He did not begin to talk about anything else, realizing that the artist was made of a special test, and he would not allow him to be free, and what kind of trouble with him you can collect on your own head.

“Nothing special,” the student said when asked about the artist.

- Damn charming, smart, rich, happy in family life, but otherwise nothing special, arrogant and mocking, you don’t really talk to him. Yes, he does not strive to be friends with someone, ”he immediately added

Once Peter wanted to be like Titian, and he succeeded. The new genius did not at all want to be like Rubens. But he could not remain at rest, faced with him, and this confrontation lasted until the very end, when the teacher had long since left this world, the unfortunate, ruined artist saw him and all the time tried to bypass the ghost, which proved to him that it was possible to life was completely different.

The young man stared intently at his paintings, bright, bursting with energy and beauty. He peered into the face of George the Victorious, who killed the snake, and into the beautiful face of the princess he had saved.

He would have written this plot in a completely different way, and he will write, they cannot be so bright and victorious, they cannot and should not. He did not like the canvas, but he could not take his eyes off it.

And then horses, people, exotic animals, everything mixed up and set in motion, everything showed incredible power. And even the crucified Christ on his canvases was surprisingly beautiful and powerful. Although this caused a smile, it was impressive at the same time. He knew that such paintings would become the decoration of royal palaces and temples, they would hang where he would never break through. It's not even worth trying.

“Don’t worry, he’s mediocre,” one of his drunken, and then strangely cheerful friends said.

“He is magnificent,” the young artist vomited, “he wanted to remain fair.

And only the one they argued about was distant and inaccessible, next to the kings and in the circle of his family, he remained calm and happy, he did not need to sort things out with anyone.

But trouble touched him with its black wing when his adored Clara died. No one could know how he experienced the death of his first and beloved child, he immediately set off on a trip to Europe, not wanting to see or hear anyone.

The girl was there all the time, she came into his dreams, he had a little guardian angel. But in reality, no one could fill the void that formed in his soul. Isabella turned into a disembodied shadow. They both understood that children often die, but the fact that this happened to their adored child was impossible to believe and accept. He painted her again and again, and she came to life on his canvases. And he was glad that he could at least do this for his unfortunate child, let them remember her like that.

Leaving the cathedral, he stumbled upon his former student walking somewhere in the crowd of the same cheerful revelers. He rushed towards him, but Paul pulled away with a sharp movement and jumped into the carriage. With all his appearance, he showed that he did not want to communicate with anyone. He didn't care at all what they thought of him.

№№№№№№

The king sent more and more new nobles. The artist found an excuse to stay in his castle and not appear at court, but he understood that this could not last long.

The artists began to argue about which of them would replace Rubens in the palace. Everyone believed that he would be chosen.

“They are waiting for Rubens,” the acquaintance snapped when Rembrandt hinted that he was free and could work.

His young wife was so vain and so dreamed of appearing before the king. For her sake, he asked to find out if the king needed new artist. But so far nothing could please her.

Saxia looked at her husband. She already knew from the maids that his efforts were in vain, no one would ever invite them to the king. She remembered Rubens' wife, that little gray mouse that famous husband so flattered on his canvases. But why was she so lucky to have him.

She didn't know what it was Last year Isabella's life. She should have died young, loved and happy

He returned from the king, having learned about the illness of his wife, and remained at her bedside until the last minute.

God gave him a lot, it's true, but at the same time he mercilessly took away his loved ones, and nothing can be done about it.

№№№№№№

Rembrandt looked at his Saxia in those days when the news of the death of Isabella appeared, they did not dare to go to a magnificent funeral. But he was sure that if his lucky rival beckoned to his wife, she would not hesitate to throw herself into his arms. This discovery hurt him very badly. And he desperately continued to paint in those days of his prodigal son - a canvas that was supposed to lift him above everyone. But already in the middle of the work, it became clear that this time the hopes would not come true, those who enthusiastically treat Rubens would not understand and appreciate him, this is not worth even dreaming of.

He could be calm for his wife - young Elena, whom he once knew as a child, became his new chosen one as soon as the days of mourning passed. Isabella herself, leaving, insisted that it was she who would replace her, and he could not argue with her, and only nodded in agreement. The maiden, shining with beauty, aroused sympathy in his soul from the very beginning, he could fall in love with her.

Her beautiful face and magnificent body appeared on new canvases, because on such days he could not help but write.

She was great. And there could not be another muse of the king of artists. His Danae seemed only a pitiful likeness of what this sorcerer Rubens portrayed and showed to the world.

Saxia fell ill in those days, and he could not help but convey her fading beauty on his canvas. She could not hide her displeasure as she peered at what he wrote. And his affairs went from bad to worse. They were rapidly flying down. But she knew that she would not be destined to see him die. And the fact that she would leave earlier calmed her a little.

She remembered Isabella's funeral and knew that her artist would not even be able to bury her with dignity.

When she found her husband with a maid, she went into an indescribable rage.

At first it seemed to him that she was just jealous of him, but then he realized that the reason was different.

– You compare yourself with him all the time, but look at Elena, and the one with whom you have fun, even before I had time to leave this world, that's the whole difference.

She had never said such hurtful words to him before, but here were all her unfulfilled hopes and dreams that would never come true.

“You are even ready to die to equalize with his wife,” he said in turn, irritably.

“That’s for sure, than such a life, it’s better to stay in the crypt,” she agreed. - But he comes there with roses, and you will throw me into a common grave.

They told each other everything that hurt, but more about famous artist didn't say a word.

Half-naked Elena, wrapped in furs, stood in front of him in all her glory. How much tenderness, delight and joy was in the eyes of the artist in those moments. He was with her, he was happy again, and he was not going to argue and quarrel with any of his brothers. They existed in another world, behind a high fence that separated his palace from their huts.

When the king's messenger appeared, the artist put down his brush and stood up abruptly. He did not want to leave, but like a true diplomat, he smiled, either at this person, or at his own thoughts and feelings.

“It would be better if you were an artist of kings,” he heard the voice of his brother, flying to him from the past.

“I will become a painter of kings, if that is what you want,” he said then.

Now he understood that it was damn troublesome, but there was nowhere to go

Saxia died alone in the semi-darkness. Her husband had not been at home for several days, they could not find him anywhere. And when one of the students told Rubens about this, he gave money and ordered the funeral of the artist's wife. They did not dare to violate the master's order, and spent a lot of money for its intended purpose, although they could not understand what he had to do with it.

Everything in this world goes on as usual, the king of artists remained the king to the end, and he walked through life with dignity and carried his crown. Nobody could blame him for anything.

RUBENS KING OF ARTISTS

When the creator dies doomed in poverty,

In the arms of a maid wearily remembering his wife,

I see not a hut in the world of naked passions,

And the miracle of the palace, where his queen shone.

Who are you talking about again, he is not a genius and the truth is not with you,

Divine Rubens will open the world to me, smiling,

And in the city of dreams we pass through the halls with words

And touching these canvases with thin fingers.

And he who easily gives his soul to the king,

And again dancing at the first ball with the queen,

Today, for the first time, Aida is desperately served,

When he painted in silence a naked maiden.

In vain Rembrandt dreams of meeting him again,

He left again, and I know he will not return soon,

He will die quietly among luxury, wondrous beauties.

And only in the fog will the ghost town remain.

Solemnly autumn floats, carrying along,

Cold shadows filled the area again,

And the rivers of time flowing according to fate and soul,

They promise him cold, and hunger, and a blizzard,

But the marvelous creator among his graces dissolved,

And in a cloud of dreams he is happy, soars before the deadline,

And the king is gloomy: - Where is Rubens, he fell in love again,

And that means he will leave us for a moment and eternity.

About how much you can rush with this artist,

And so much will the triumph for him continue,

He is the king of the sun, and in reality he will incarnate,

I see how we all miss Rubens today.

The one who with courage will open the higher spheres to us,

And in the abyss everyday life will desperately arrange a holiday,

In Rembrandt's shack, longing will howl like a she-wolf,

And Rubens dances and writes with a graceful smile.