Letters to foreign friends about their homeland. A letter to a friend with thoughts about his homeland. Several interesting essays
Hello, dear friend!
You have long been interested in my homeland, that is, the city in which I was born and live. But before embarking on this topic, I would like to reflect on what, in my opinion, is contained in this painfully familiar, but very capacious word. Motherland... Fatherland... Fatherland... These words are familiar to us from early childhood. But what is this - Motherland? If you look in an explanatory dictionary, you can find an explanation of this word, simple and understandable. Homeland is the country in which a person was born.
Where does it begin? Speaking in dry geographical language, we would call extreme points of her country, the parallels and meridians between which she spread her expanses. But in fact, my Fatherland begins with the smallest things: from a courtyard next to my father’s house, from a birch tree at the gate, from a school bench, from my native street, from a town, village or small village dear to my heart. This is a tiny piece of land, which geographical map you won't find it. But it was here that we were born, took our first steps into a great life, with eyes full of surprise, got acquainted with the world around us, met our first true friends, learned the joy of victories and the bitterness of defeats. And the word “homeland”, which we found in the explanatory dictionary, becomes more significant, more significant, more native. It’s not for nothing that “homeland” and “native” came from the same root. And wherever we are, wherever fate takes us, we will always remember with special trepidation, with great warmth, the small courtyard, the birch tree at the gate, and the narrow street. Here are our roots, here are our loved ones, from here we stepped into a big life. I remember the words of V. Lazarev:
I don't just live.
I am like a river
I start in a lost place...
My “lost far away” is a town called Novomichurinsk. Someone, looking at him, might say: “...provincial outback, gray and dirty...”. But I love him. I love to wander through its friendly green streets, meet familiar faces, and enjoy the clean air. And if you knew how beautiful my hometown Ishko in different times of the year! In summer it is covered in lush greenery, bright colors flower beds and meadows, in sunny gilding. And in the fall... Multi-colored maples, yellow lindens, still green poplars, brownish oaks... In Novomichurinsk, autumn is not a “dull time”, but a wonderful time of year, simply “charm from the eyes.” In winter, Novomichurinsk is filled with magic and poetry. When you look out the window or go outside, your mood is always immediately lifted by the sight of sparkling and creaking snow and trees covered with silvery frost. And, of course, spring... A sea of light, greenery, flowers and aromas. White-trunked birches, fragile willows, and delicate willows decorate themselves with luxurious earrings. The trees dress in light green dresses. Apple trees, pears, cherries, plums put on their wedding attire... Novomichurinsk is fragrant, drowning in emerald greenery, flowering linden trees, and the aromas of gardens.
And in the most ordinary outfit
You are sweet, Fatherland, to the point of tears.
Brown strands suit you
Your beloved birches.
But not only nature decorates my city. My city is famous, first of all, for its people and power units. The Ryazan State District Power Plant became the largest power plant in the European part of Russia, so many foreign delegations came here
You are such that you will not find anything more beautiful,
At least walk around the whole earth three times.
You are like the sea, no, like our heart,
Forever with us, Motherland, in our breasts!
But along with pride in their hometown, there are also notes of sadness and regret that all its property is drowning in piles of garbage, that the residents of Novomichurinsk do not always treat it well. Almost all of the trees planted long ago have survived to this day, but the small sticky trees planted there recently have already been broken. I love admiring the gray-haired giants while walking along quiet streets, and how painful it becomes when, instead of lush crowns of trees, I often see only stumps. Due to the fault of people, the water in the Pronya River has become dirty, the springs that once surrounded my city have disappeared, the former beauty and grandeur are fading.
I want to tell my peers, growing children, and the adult population about our city and its problems, to create in their souls a love for native land, pride in him, a desire to help him and make our Novomichurinsk even more beautiful.
On this note I end my letter. I would like to believe that now you have an idea about my town. I invite you to my hometown. Let's wander around my favorite places together. And you will see for yourself how beautiful he is. Goodbye.
Hello, dear friend!
You have long been interested in my homeland, that is, the city in which I was born and live. But before embarking on this topic, I would like to reflect on what, in my opinion, is contained in this painfully familiar, but very capacious word. Motherland... Fatherland... Fatherland... These words are familiar to us from early childhood. But what is this - Motherland? If you look in an explanatory dictionary, you can find an explanation of this word, simple and understandable. Homeland is the country in which a person was born.
Where does it begin? Speaking in dry geographical language, we would name the extreme points of our country, the parallels and meridians between which it spreads its expanses. But in fact, my Fatherland begins with the smallest things: from a courtyard next to my father’s house, from a birch tree at the gate, from a school bench, from my native street, from a town, village or small village dear to my heart. This is a tiny piece of land that cannot be found on a geographical map. But it was here that we were born, took our first steps into a great life, with eyes full of surprise, got acquainted with the world around us, met our first true friends, learned the joy of victories and the bitterness of defeats. And the word “homeland”, which we found in the explanatory dictionary, becomes more significant, more significant, more native. It’s not for nothing that “homeland” and “native” came from the same root. And wherever we are, wherever fate takes us, we will always remember with special trepidation, with great warmth, the small courtyard, the birch tree at the gate, and the narrow street. Here are our roots, here are our loved ones, from here we stepped into a big life. I remember the words of V. Lazarev:
I don't just live.
I am like a river
I start in a lost place...
My “lost far away” is a town called Novomichurinsk. Someone, looking at him, might say: “...provincial outback, gray and dirty...”. But I love him. I love to wander through its friendly green streets, meet familiar faces, and enjoy the clean air. And if you only knew how beautiful my hometown is at different times of the year! In the summer it is all lush green, in the bright colors of flower beds and meadows, in sunny gilding. And in the fall... Multi-colored maples, yellow lindens, still green poplars, brownish oaks... In Novomichurinsk, autumn is not a “dull time”, but a wonderful time of year, simply “charm from the eyes.” In winter, Novomichurinsk is filled with magic and poetry. When you look out the window or go outside, your mood is always immediately lifted by the sight of sparkling and creaking snow and trees covered with silvery frost. And, of course, spring... A sea of light, greenery, flowers and aromas. White-trunked birches, fragile willows, and delicate willows decorate themselves with luxurious earrings. The trees dress in light green dresses. Apple trees, pears, cherries, plums put on their wedding attire... Novomichurinsk is fragrant, drowning in emerald greenery, flowering linden trees, and the aromas of gardens.
And in the most ordinary outfit
You are sweet, Fatherland, to the point of tears.
Brown strands suit you
Your beloved birches.
But not only nature decorates my city. My city is famous, first of all, for its people and power units. The Ryazan State District Power Plant became the largest power plant in the European part of Russia, so many foreign delegations came here
You are such that you will not find anything more beautiful,
At least walk around the whole earth three times.
You are like the sea, no, like our heart,
Forever with us, Motherland, in our breasts!
But along with pride in their hometown, there are also notes of sadness and regret that all its property is drowning in piles of garbage, that the residents of Novomichurinsk do not always treat it well. Almost all of the trees planted long ago have survived to this day, but the small sticky trees planted there recently have already been broken. I love admiring the gray-haired giants while walking along quiet streets, and how painful it becomes when, instead of lush crowns of trees, I often see only stumps. Due to the fault of people, the water in the Pronya River has become dirty, the springs that once surrounded my city have disappeared, the former beauty and grandeur are fading.
I want to tell my peers, growing children, and the adult population about our city and its problems, to engender in their souls a love for their native land, pride in it, a desire to help it and make our Novomichurinsk even more beautiful.
On this note I end my letter. I would like to believe that now you have an idea about my town. I invite you to my hometown. Let's wander around my favorite places together. And you will see for yourself how beautiful he is. Goodbye.
May 15, 2008 Olya
Letter to the Motherland.
Hello, Motherland! I'm writing you a letter. But it's not ordinary, no. It's special. It was very difficult for me to write it, because admitting your feelings is not easy, you know this like no one else. It's hard for you now, I know. Therefore, you need to write you more encouraging letters to all the people who are close to you. Who throughout their lives make you happy with their victories and successes, but sadden you with their terrible, unscrupulous actions. I am writing you this letter with all my heart. I know you feel it. You see how worried and worried I am about you. But that's not the main thing. I love you, Motherland! Mine is quiet, bright, warm. I love you, Motherland! Mine is gentle, soulful and understanding. I love you, Motherland! After all, only you impress me with your beauties. I love you, Motherland! Because you are that very corner of our huge planet to which you constantly want to return. Because only you, the most beloved, are always drawn to. Any time of the day, any time of the year. I always rush to meet you, forgetting about everything. About all your troubles, sorrows, grievances and sorrows. I know you will always understand. I will whisper to the wind how bad I feel, and you will warm me with the rays of the summer sun. I will cry, and you will cry with me with the heavy drops of evening rain. I will rejoice, and you will sparkle and sparkle with dew drops in the morning. I will sing, and you will sing with me like nightingales in the forest, round dances in a birch grove. I will dance, and you will dance with me, drop by drop, on a bright spring morning. I love you, Motherland! Mine is powerful, courageous, strong. I love you, Motherland! And I believe that no enemy is scary as long as we are with you, Motherland! We will save you, do you hear? And we won’t let you offend! Never! Never! I love you, Motherland! I can talk forever, but in reality, I won't say everything I feel. I love you with the most sincere, most heartfelt love that can be. There is no such love anymore! Only to you. To the Mother herself. You will succeed, do you hear? Have no doubt! Be even stronger, stay strong, my love! And everything will be fine with us. I'm sure you'll see this soon. A new generation is growing, smarter and more perfect. We will reach new heights we never dreamed of. A unique future awaits us. Not like what we're going through now. And we will achieve the most unattainable goals, I am sure, Motherland. In parting, I can only say one thing - I will always be there, do you hear? I will never leave you! We, your children, your closest relatives, will never leave you, no matter what happens. You can always rely on us.
Loving you dearly, Masha.
Sayfullina Yulia. Lyceum No. 2, Bugulma, Republic of Tatarstan, Russia
Essay on English language with the translation. Nomination Documents, letters, resumes.
The letter to my friend about my hometown
I would like to invite you to my beloved hometown called Bugulma.
It is very beautiful and old. We have a lot of sights. It is a mixture of modern and ancient buildings.
You can visit our famous Museum of local lore, Jaroslav Gashek`s museum, Russian Drama Theater named after Batalov, the Center of Tatar Culture and to see the eternal flame.
We have a unique museum in our town. It is Jaroslav Gashek’s museum. This is the only museum in the world, where you can learn a lot about the famous Czech writer.
The museum of Jaroslav Gashek is in a very old building and it is an interesting place to visit. Jaroslav Gashek, a famous Czech writer-satirist, came to Bugulma on the 16th of October in 1918 and lived in this building, where there is the museum now.
This museum is visited by lots of people.There are many exhibits in the museum. There is also a collection of Jaroslav Gashek’s personal things there.
Whatever your interests - don’t forget to visit our local theater where you can watch different performances to your taste.
Bugulma is one of the most exiting places in the world. I hope you will come to us as soon as you get some free time and you won’t regret.
I send you some photos of my town, where you will recognize the places I have described above. I look forward to seeing you in my town.
Dear Kate,
I want to invite you to my beloved hometown of Bugulma. It's very beautiful and ancient city. It has many attractions. It is a combination of modern and ancient buildings.
You can visit our famous Museum of Local Lore, the Yaroslav Hasek Museum, the Russian Drama Theater named after Batalov, the Center of Tatar Culture and see the Eternal Flame.
In our city there is unique museum. This is the Hasek Museum. This is the only museum in the world where you can learn a lot about the famous Czech writer.
The Jaroslav Hasek Museum is located in an old building and is very interesting for visitors. Jaroslav Hasek, a famous Czech satirist, came to Bugulma on October 16, 1918 and lived in the house where the museum is now located.
This museum is visited by many people. The museum has many exhibits. There are also personal belongings of Jaroslav Hasek.
Whatever your interest, don't forget to visit our local theater, where you can see productions for every taste.
Bugulma is one of the most wonderful places in the world. I hope you will come to us at the first opportunity and you will not regret it.
I am sending you a few photos of my city, where you will recognize the places that I described above. I look forward to seeing you in our city.
Best wishes,
Hello, dear mom!
How are you doing? How is everyone doing? I finally found the time to write to you.
Today is my kind of anniversary: I have been living abroad for five years now. You know, at the beginning of the day I didn’t even remember the significance of this date in my life, but then the number July 24th reminded me of Russia, and emotions overwhelmed me. Oh, how everything has changed since then!
I was convinced that fate is especially ironic. Remember me five years ago. Could I have thought that I would miss Russia, and most importantly, my hometown? No, no and NO! The desire to leave here and rush off to conquer the world literally filled every second of my existence. I couldn’t think about anything other than a future life full of new achievements and acquaintances. Only now I understand that without the memory of the past it is impossible to build a future...
Now my whole childhood seems like a fog to me. It’s like the rays of the sun on a cloudy day, only occasionally there are bright moments that involuntarily illuminate my face with a smile. For example, do you remember how one winter the first snow fell. Huge snowdrifts like white mountains rose everywhere. And my dad, my sister and I went into the yard to build a snowman. Oh, how wonderful it was! We ran through the snowdrifts, threw snowballs at each other and were probably the happiest people on the planet at that moment. It was then that I didn’t understand, but felt, physically felt that happiness was nearby, happiness in the simple. I think you felt the same way when you looked at us from the window and smiled Mommy, I would give anything right now to see you again standing there and smiling.
Tell me, can I forget our yard, where every spring the poplars bloomed, which seemed to me then centuries-old giants, the streets of our city, along which I walked, it seems, hundreds of kilometers, the school, where I realized many truths of life, for example, how important prove yourself from the very first days of meeting? Can the love for this city of my youth, which once seemed so plain and gray to me, disappear in my heart? It turned out - no. Time has proven that true love remains with us forever. And attachment to our city, to our small Motherland lives in us even after moving to another city, another country, another culture.
Mom, I never considered myself a patriot of my country. However, here’s a paradox: I realized that abroad, closeness to my homeland, like air, fills every cell of the body, fills me with warmth and involuntarily evokes pride. Pride for everything done in Russia, pride for all people from our country, pride, finally, for those moral principles instilled in the Russian family.
After all, love for the Motherland is not empty words, but thoughts, feelings, sensations, memories. If it weren’t for those people who raised me, loved me, protected me in my beloved city, I don’t think that my memories would be filled with such light and warmth. For everyone, probably, their hometown is, in addition to houses, sidewalks, bridges, also people who filled life with meaning, who made that fairy tale called life come true.
What a pity that understanding of these things does not come immediately, only over time, when many things in life are already so difficult to change. You yourself know that fate can take us far, like taking us even overseas on a magic magic carpet. But this is how it turns out - memory is inseparable from our essence and often reminds us of itself with memories, sparks of significant events and dates. It’s not for nothing that I still feel homesick on June 12th. Although no one here understands it, for everyone except one person, it’s just another day at work...
That’s why, Mommy, I really wanted you to know today, on the anniversary of my departure, that I am devoted to Russia, I am still part of our city and, whatever you say, I am still a Russian person. I hope your heart will be filled with pride and, despite the thousands of kilometers separating us, you will feel the warmth that warms me on this cloudy day. Understand and accept my life choices. I'm not the only one with this fate. Remember our great writers, who had a hard time in emigration and who always wanted to return to native land, who was their main muse.
The main thing is to know that I have faith in the best, hope for a bright future and... love for the Motherland. This holy trinity will help in difficult moments and lead me to the true path.
I love and miss your daughter.