"Momo" is a touching and very instructive tale by the German children's writer Michael Ende. It was published in 1973 with the subtitle "A Strange Story of a Thief of Time and a Child Who Give Time to People." Subsequently, "Momo" was awarded the German Prize for Literature for Children and translated into 30 languages ​​of the world.

Before becoming a storyteller, Michael Ende sought himself in the field of playwright and novelist. However, his works did not find a response from the public. Once, while walking along Palermo Ende, he witnessed an unusual action - a man was enthusiastically telling a story. A crowd of townspeople gathered around him. They all listened with bated breath. When Ende asked what kind of story it was, the speaker replied that many years ago he first got acquainted with the book by Alexandre Dumas. The work delighted him so much that he learned the text by heart, and over time became a professional storyteller.

After this meeting on the street of Palermo, Michael Ende realized that you need to write in such a way that your works would be told on the streets in a hundred years. He was done with drama, but did not want to part with writing. Something is wrong here, thought Ende. There must be some other way, I just can't see it. The right path was found quite by accident.

A friend of Michael Ende asked him to write a short children's story for an illustrated book, which he was publishing. To unwind a little, Ende accepted the offer and began to compose. Thus, the famous Jim Button was born. The story about him was published in 1960, at that time Michael Ende was 31 years old.

The young readers and their parents liked Ende's fantasy so much that the book was literally swept off the shelves. A year later, the author of "Jim Buttons" was already awarded two honorary prizes - the Berlin Literary Prize for the Young Generation and the German Prize for Books for Children. Inspired, Ende sat down to continue. Now he was firmly convinced that his vocation was children's literature.

"Momo" - a fairy tale for adults

Following the successful Jim Button in the fabulous collection of Michael Ende, another character appeared - a tramp girl Momo with a turtle under her arm. The fairy tale was published in 1973. Later, she was repeatedly filmed. For example, in 1986 Germany released the full-length film Momo, directed by Johannes Schaaf.

"Momo" is not just a children's fairy tale, it, like other works of Ende, is a deep philosophical work, dressed in the lightweight form of a literary fairy tale.

Chronic employment
At the center of Momo's problems is the theme of time and its depreciation as a result of total globalization. Striving to save every second modern man actually steals time from his own life. To stop and admire the beauty of a blossoming flower or a sunset over the rooftops is an unaffordable luxury for an eternally hurrying city dweller. And this is precisely what life is.

Michael Ende admitted that "Momo" was written primarily for adults, children already know everything that is written there. But the book is addressed to children, because this way it will definitely fall into the hands of their parents.

Ende's clever plan worked - the book's readership has no boundaries. Even after a hundred years it will be relevant, and it will be told on the streets, if by that time, of course, we have not forgotten how to just talk. Let's remember the plot of this amazing story about stolen time.

Once upon a time there were beautiful cities on earth with graceful doors, wide streets and cozy alleys, colorful bazaars, majestic temples and amphitheaters. Now these cities do not exist, only ruins remind of them. In one of these dilapidated ancient amphitheaters, which are occasionally visited by curious tourists, a little girl named Momo settled.

Nobody knew whose it was, where it came from and how old it was. According to Momo, she is one hundred and two years old and has no one in the world but herself. True, Momo looks like you can't give more than twelve. She is very small and thin, she has blue-black curly hair, the same dark huge eyes and no less black legs, because Momo always runs barefoot. Only for the winter does the girl put on shoes disproportionately large for her thin legs. Momo's skirt is made of colorful patches, and the jacket is no less long than the skirt. Momo thought about cutting off his sleeves, but then decided that she would grow up over time, and she might not find such a wonderful jacket.

Once upon a time, Momo was in an orphanage. She does not like to remember this period of her life. She and many other unfortunate children were brutally beaten, scolded and forced to do what she absolutely did not want. One day, Momo climbed over the fence and ran away. Since then she lives in a room under the stage ancient amphitheater.

The families that lived in the neighborhood found out about the appearance of the homeless girl. They helped Momo settle into a new home. A bricklayer laid out a stove and made a chimney, a carpenter carved out chairs and a table, someone brought a wrought-iron bed, someone brought bedspreads and a mattress, a painter painted flowers on the wall, and the abandoned closet under the stage turned into a cozy room where Momo now lived.

Her house was always full of guests of different ages and different professions. If someone was in trouble, the locals always said "Visit Momo." What was it about this homeless little girl? Nothing special ... She just knew how to listen. She did this in such a way that those who were disappointed gained hope, those who were unsure gained confidence in own forces, the oppressed raised them above their heads, and the abandoned understood that they were not alone.

One day, the Gray Lords appeared in the city where Momo and her friends lived. In fact, their organization has existed for a long time, they acted slowly, carefully and imperceptibly, entangling people and establishing themselves in the life of the city. The main goal of the Gray Masters is to take possession of human time.

Time is the biggest secret and the most valuable treasure that everyone possesses, but knows practically nothing about it. People have fixed the time in calendars and clocks, but the present lives in the heart. It is life.

The insidious plan of the Gray Masters was based on depriving people of their present time. For example, an IKS agent with the code number 384-b comes to an ordinary hairdresser, Mr. Fouquet, and invites him to make a contribution to the Time Savings Bank. Having carried out intricate mathematical calculations, the IKS agent proves that by making daily deposits at interest, you can multiply your precious time dozens of times. To do this, you just need to learn how to rationally spend it.

How much does Mr. Fouquet spend on serving each client? Half an hour? The visit can be shortened to 15 minutes by eliminating unnecessary conversations with visitors. How long has Monsieur Fouquet been talking to his old mother? A whole hour ?! But she is paralyzed and practically does not understand him. Mother can be passed in cheap house the elderly, thus gaining precious 60 minutes. The green parrot, which Fouquet spends an average of 30 minutes a day on caring for, should also be disposed of. Gathering with friends in a cafe, going to the cinema, visiting Fraulein Daria, thinking near the window - to eliminate all this as unnecessary!

Soon a lot of depositors appeared at the Savings Bank of Time. They dressed better, lived richer, looked more respectable than those who lived in the part of the city near the amphitheater. The depositors settled in the same type of multi-storey box houses, they were constantly in a hurry somewhere, they never smiled and were more than anything in the world afraid of silence, because in the silence it became obvious that the time saved was rushing at an unimaginable speed. Monotonous days add up to weeks, months, years. They cannot be stopped. You can't even remember them. They seem to be absent at all.

None of the depositors of the Savings Bank knows about little Momo, who lives in a room under the stage of the amphitheater. But she knows about them and wants to help them.

To save the city from the Gray Lords, Momo goes to the man who knows the time - this is the Master of Time, he is the Master of Chora, he is Secundus Minutus Hora. The Master lives in the House-Nowhere. For a long time he watched little Momo, learning that the Gray Lords want to get rid of the girl, the Master of Horus sent the fortuneteller turtle Cassiopeia for her. It was she who led Momo to the magical abode of the Master.

From Home-Nowhere, all universal time is distributed among people. Everyone has their own internal clock in their hearts. “The heart is given to a person in order to perceive time. Time, not perceived by the heart, disappears in the same way as colors disappear for the blind or for the deaf - the singing of birds. Unfortunately, there are a lot of blind and deaf hearts in the world that do not feel anything, although they are beating. "

The Gray Lords are not human at all. They just took on a human form. They are NOTHING coming from ANYWHERE. They feed on human time and will disappear without a trace as soon as people stop giving them their time. Unfortunately, today the influence of the Gray Lords on people is very great, they have a lot of minions among the inhabitants of our planet.

We invite you to read - a famous German writer who created many popular children's works, some of which were awarded literary prizes.

The story or “Endless Book” is considered the most successful work of the writer, and a film was even made based on this book.

The Master of Time is unable to stop the Gray Lords, people themselves are responsible for their time. Watching Momo with the help of the All-Seeing Glasses, the Master of Time realized that this girl must become the bearer of the truth. Only she can save the world.

Back from Nowhere Home, Momo knew everything. She fearlessly carried the doctrine of Time through the city, exposed the Gray Masters and returned the stolen time to the people.

Why does the reader, content with 1984, Brave New World, 451 degrees, not look for new dystopias, which would be based not on the totalitarian governance of society, but on something else? As I read these books, it was interesting for me to look at the state system from the inside, to look for errors, shortcomings, and I was ready for a while to become the hero of such a book, to whom the author, perhaps, left the opportunity to raise rebellion and rebellion at least within himself and fight the enemy. A clear awareness that all desperate attempts of a hero who challenged the state are doomed to failure, because any system that controls thousands must, no matter how difficult it is, be able to subordinate itself to a few, did not prevent me from hoping for success, but the enemies of Momo, depriving her companions, as if they had stolen from me all the enthusiasm with which I would have rushed into battle against them, and I could only wait and hope that Momo would cope with them alone.

The worst thing that the Gray Lords did was deprive people of time. Yes, they did it technically, and it looks no longer like a dystopia, but like a fairy tale, but nevertheless, attempts to lure free and hardworking people to their side and success, which I was not at all surprised, no longer look like a fairy tale, but a dystopia. Anyone who used to find pleasure in their work, which was of great benefit to others, as, for example, in the case of Beppo the Sweeper, for whom any swing with a broom was something of a ritual, if not more, and so, each of these respected by me gentlemen, henceforth deprived of time, devoted miserable crumbs of attention and love to all his affairs, justifying it this way: "times have changed", "I have no time", "I am in a hurry", "let's talk tomorrow, okay?" And all these excuses, the whole style of behavior of such rapidly changed people are very well guessed today.

The lack of time also led to the fact that people from now on became interested exclusively in a surrogate, produced in a hurry. Jigi, a former friend of Momo, churned out his amazing earlier stories that attracted many listeners, which were now avidly read by fools, not penetrating deeply and not realizing the main thing. Nino, the innkeeper, was now counting the money and enjoying the money, the reputation of his lightning-fast service establishment, and the gloomy customers. The tasteless food only gave the appearance of satiety, but in fact only filled the rumbling belly, not satisfying the hunger; only little Momo noticed this, who still appreciated the unity of work and time as others did before. Gray gentlemen, having created special institutions, took care of the children who, with their games, brought unnecessary problems into their "life", because the future of mankind depends on children, all the nonsense from which the Gray gentlemen were going to knock out.

Yes, in some ways this book is scary, probably in the fact that Ende, who wrote it a little over forty years ago, guessed how a person will gradually find for himself something that, being worthless, will turn himself into an idol.

Score: 10

Well, where we are not there, apples are tastier, and the sun is brighter, and cats are fatter; and we have that - work, it eats up all the time, it would not be - wow, what a life would begin! Real! Something luxurious and significant, as in the representations of the modest hairdresser, Mr. Fuzi ("Well, I'm a hairdresser - no one needs it_"). And here she is a dilemma: favorite activities, loved ones or the ultimate saving of time, saving on everything - from immediate duties at work to reading, visiting relatives and feeding a parrot. Work, work, and now to retirement in the Savings Bank of Time will accumulate so many hours that real life will begin. But what happiness is, city residents understand only when they themselves deprive themselves of the opportunity to dream, fool around, swear and put up, that is, do things that have no direct material value, but without them life becomes dreary ("... but he finally stopped loving And abuse, and saber, and lead"), turns into a routine, and the person falls ill with Death Boredom.

This opposition of "feeling and reason" was embodied in the confrontation between little Momo and the Gray Lords. After all, who, if not a child, needs friends - big and small, needs stories, dreams, needs time.

Strange, but when I read "Momo", I remembered Shukshin's eccentrics - kind, open, out of routine, the prose of life, somewhat naive and therefore not understood by others. So Momo is the same weirdo with her ridiculous jacket and a closet under the stage. And Momo also had a wonderful property: she, like a litmus test, showed that a person refused, was afraid, did not want to notice, understand. He felt real next to her. And here it is - real life, in every minute, in every moment.

It seems to me that any reader will find his own in "Momo", he will probably recognize himself in the characters. But in any case, this is a classically real fairy tale, in the sense that it is beautifully written for children, but no less beautiful for adults. The book was created in 1973, but it seems that our contemporary wrote it about us today; truly “I told you everything as if it happened a long time ago. But I could tell it as if it will happen. "

Score: 10

In children's literature, perhaps, the temptation is especially great (and the consequences are especially catastrophic) will slip into a lesson. It is shameless to use literature to proclaim your views on the world, and to build a plot, albeit as skillfully as you like, solely to prove its truth. The temptation is great, because the parents who buy the book are just waiting for the book to teach their child something good. However, what if the author's instructions turn out to be wrong?

All these reflections, in general, have little to do with this wonderful book. This is a gripping, immeasurably kind tale-tale of the brilliant Michael Ende about the importance of human communication and community. About the fact that in the race for eternally elusive profit, social status and influence, we forget about what really fascinates us, and, even more often, about ordinary humanity, kindness, bonds of kinship and friendship.

At the center of the story is Momo, a little magical vagabond girl with a tame turtle. What distinguishes her from many children's and young adult works is that her magic is both much more ordinary and much more incredible: she is just a very kind and sensitive person - so much so that her presence can unite people with the incredible power of a revived metaphor. ... The antagonists are Gray People, insidious powerful creatures who, almost like the Devil, playing on the weaknesses and strongest desires of people, take away their most valuable - their Time. Make their lives Gray and lifeless. They make you live day after day on autopilot.

Yet what was written at the beginning has something to do with this book. Her description of the psychological difficulties of life in modern capitalist society is very accurate, vivid and figurative. And yet, a certain one-sided look, the incompleteness of the described picture is detected during reading out of the corner of the eye and sometimes interferes with enjoying the story. Of course, anything that the author describes as bad is bad. But the book's emphasis on Time makes accurate observations somewhat less accurate and even fair. After reading the book superficially, it is easy to think that the only way to do your job responsibly, well and with a sense of your own satisfaction is to do it slowly. And for all the seductiveness of such a point of view for such a lazy person like me, I cannot but call it controversial. And if you considered the previous conclusion to be a clear distortion of the thought of the work, then how do you react to the statement that the prohibitively fast pace modern life caused not only by negative, but also by many positive factors- like the achievements of scientific and technological progress, by no means all of which are useless - and, therefore, the presentation of the turtle (it, of course, turns out to be a powerful magic turtle, but nevertheless the familiar trail of associations weaves behind it) as a positive role model for the reader smells of some reaction? In the end, you start to doubt whether the child today will be happy to read a book where fast food is not the least of the evils of civilization.

All this worries the more the more excellent, convincing and beautiful the book is written, and in terms of style, pace, tension and other characteristics of the story, it is something that many fiction writers should strive for. Gray people really written out as unpleasant and threatening as possible. The scenes in the abode of the Lord of Time (perhaps his name was somehow different) are striking in scale and beauty - not everyone succeeds in conveying the feeling of the indescribable so well. Everyday details to the images of the main characters are also incomparable - I would read more and more descriptions of children's games led by Momo or stories invented by the Guide. At this highest level of writing, a certain simplification of the concept stands out more.

All criticism, of course, would be obvious nit-picking and over-analysis, if the book belonged to the pen of almost any other author, but Michael Ende has repeatedly shown that he is able to write for children without any discounts - wisely, deeply and bypassing the pitfall of unnecessary didactics. And so - even though the book was delighted more than once during reading, and it would be a gross lie to say that it does not capture or is not written excellently, the aftertaste was not impeccable, as if from an inspired lecture, where in a couple of places in the evidence were admitted inaccuracies.

Score: 9

Miraculous fairy tale by Michael Ende. Kind, magical, with interesting characters, a very cute main character and wonderful world time.

The author wrote a wonderful fairy tale, but I think it was rather written not for children, but for adults. After all, children never suffer from a lack of time. But this fairy tale-parable will make adults think about many things. In addition to work and money, there is something more important in our life, for example: chatting with friends, reading books, walking in the park - what gives us joy.

I liked the tale very much, but still something was missing for me. The middle, about the Master of Choir, is simply bewitching and magical, Michael Ende perfectly manages to describe inexplicable things. But the ending came out, in my opinion, too fast, and Momo almost did not need to do anything to defeat the Gray Lords. And she herself, for the whole tale, having experienced so many adventures, does not change internally in any way.

In general, my rating is 9 out of 10.

Score: 9

The beginning is almost domestic - on the outskirts of a large city, in the ruins of an ancient amphitheater, a homeless orphan girl named Momo settles. Local residents, the people themselves are not rich, help her to settle down. The girl has her first friends, and then their circle only expands. Among them are not only children, but also adults. Among her two best friends - one is generally an old man, a silent Beppo, nicknamed a sweeper (and by profession too), and the other is a smart-tongued young man Girolamo "Gigi" "Guide". Momo, it would seem, is the most ordinary child, but he knows how to listen to others surprisingly attentively. People who share their troubles and problems with her suddenly have a clear head - what to do. Children in the presence of Momo become inventive in games, never get bored.

But then the tale becomes magical. The Gray Lords appear, who incite people to give them for safekeeping to their Savings Bank free time, which then supposedly they will be able to receive with interest, like money in a real savings bank. In fact, the Gray Lords take someone else's time and live off of it. Only no one knows about this and no one would know - if not for Momo, a girl in whose presence even a secretive thief of time can open up.

German writer Michael Ende is known to the domestic reader mainly as the author of "". But he also has other kind and wise fairy tales that are worthy of attention. One of them is a fairy tale " Momo».

The main character of the story is a little girl named Momo... She lives alone in a small town, no one has ever seen her parents, no one knows who she is or where she came from. The townspeople love Momo because she is endowed with a rare gift: the ability to listen to others. Talking to Momo, a timid person becomes brave, a shy person becomes self-confident, an unfortunate person forgets about his sorrows. Therefore, Momo has many friends.

But one day the calmness of the city is disturbed. Come to it Gray gentlemen- time stealers. They act covertly and cautiously, deceiving people and luring them into their networks. Introducing ourselves as employees Time Savings Banks, they offer people to open an account to save time. In fact, they simply steal this time from people, not at all intending to return it back, especially with interest.

Gradually, more and more people become obsessed with the idea of ​​saving time. They try to finish any business as quickly as possible, and they have no time for simple human joys at all. Her friends stop visiting Momo - they now consider talking to be a waste of time. Then she decides to go in search of them. Now only Momo can save people from the Gray Lords and give them back their lost time. Will it be possible to do this?

Like any good children's book, "Momo" will be interesting not only for children, but also for adults... The questions raised by the author are still relevant now, because in today's hectic life we ​​try to do everything, and in the end we don't have time for really important things: for talking with friends, for leisurely walks, and finally for ourselves.

This is a book that a child can be no less wise than an adult, because years are not the issue. The fact that wonderful abilities lie on the surface, and no diplomas and merits can replace such a simple at first glance skill - listen and hear another person.

And even though in the course of the story it may seem to the reader that everything is hopeless, and the Gray Lords will inevitably win, the story "Momo", like all fairy tales, will certainly end well. After all, "Momo", like all the works of Michael Ende, is filled with endless love for people... People who are imperfect by nature, who can make mistakes. But true love often happens in spite of it.

If you love The Endless Story, be sure to take the time and read Momo: you'll love it. And if you have not read any of the works of Michael Ende, it's time to get to know them: the world of fairy tales is always open for children and adults, you just need to take a step into it.

Quotes from the book

“There is one important but very everyday secret in the world. All people are involved in him, everyone knows him; but only a few think of him. Many simply take note of it, not a bit surprised at it. This secret is time.
To measure time, calendars and clocks have been created, but they are of little use, because everyone knows that one hour can seem like an eternity and at the same time flash like an instant - depending on what has been experienced during that hour.
After all, time is life. And life dwells in the heart "

“No one seemed to notice that by saving time, he was actually saving something completely different. No one wanted to admit that his life was getting poorer, more monotonous and colder.
Only the children clearly felt this, for no one had any more time for the children.
But time is life. And life dwells in the heart.
And the more people saved, the poorer they became "

Michael Ende

In the dark, light is visible, like a miracle.
A light is visible - but I don't know where.
Either he is far away, now it is as if he is right here ...
I do not know what the name of the light is.
Only - whoever you are, a star, -
You, as before, always shine on me!

Irish children's song

Part one. MOMO AND HER FRIENDS

Chapter one. BIG CITY AND LITTLE GIRL

In ancient times, when people still spoke languages ​​completely forgotten today, large and beautiful cities already existed in warm countries. There were the palaces of kings and emperors; wide streets stretched from end to end; narrow alleys and dead ends meandered; there were magnificent temples with golden and marble statues of the gods; colorful bazaars were noisy, where they offered goods from all over the world; there were wide squares where people discussed news, made or simply listened to speeches. But above all, these cities were famous for their theaters.

These theaters were similar to the current circus, only built entirely of stone. Rows for spectators were arranged in steps one above the other, as in a huge funnel. And if you look from above, then some of these buildings were round, others formed an oval or half a circle. They were called amphitheaters.

Some of them were huge, like a football stadium, others could hold no more than two hundred spectators. Some were luxurious, with columns and statues, others modest, without any decorations. The amphitheaters had no roofs, all performances were given in the open air. However, in richer theaters, golden-woven carpets were stretched over the rows to protect the audience from the heat of the sun or sudden rain. In theaters, reed or straw mats were more poorer than this. In short, there were theaters for the rich and theaters for the poor. Everyone attended them because everyone was passionate listeners and spectators.

And when people, holding their breath, followed the funny or sad events that took place on the stage, it seemed to them that this only imagined life in some mysterious way seems more truthful, true and much more interesting than their own, everyday. And they loved to listen to this other reality.

Millennia have passed since then. Cities disappeared, palaces and temples collapsed. Wind and rain, heat and cold polished and weathered the stones, leaving ruins from the large theaters. In the old, cracked walls, only the cicadas now sing their monotonous song, like the breath of a sleeping earth.

But some of these ancient cities have survived to this day. Of course, life in them has changed. People travel in cars and trains, they have telephones and electricity. But, sometimes, among the new buildings, you can still see ancient columns, an arch, a piece of a fortress wall or an amphitheater of those distant days.

In one of these cities, this story happened.

On the southern outskirts of a large city, where fields begin, and houses and buildings are becoming poorer, the ruins of a small amphitheater are hidden in a pine forest. Even in ancient times it did not seem luxurious, it was a theater for the poor. And nowadays. that is, in the days when this story with Momo began, almost no one remembered the ruins. Only connoisseurs of antiquity knew about this theater, but even for them it was not of interest, because there was nothing to study there. Sometimes two or three tourists wandered in here, climbed the grassy stone steps, talked, clicked cameras and left. Silence returned to the stone funnel, the cicadas began the next stanza of their endless song, exactly the same as the previous ones.

Most often, the neighboring residents, who have known this place for a long time, have been here. They left their goats to graze here, and the children played ball in a round area in the middle of the amphitheater. Sometimes couples in love met here in the evenings.

Once there was a rumor that someone was living in the ruins. They said it was a child, a little girl, but no one really knew anything. Her name, I think, was Momo.

Momo looked a little strange. For people who appreciated neatness and cleanliness, she acted in a frightening way. She was small and thin, and it was difficult to guess how old she was - eight or twelve. She had violent, bluish-black curls, which, apparently, were never touched by a comb or scissors, large, surprisingly beautiful eyes, also black, and the same color of legs, because she always ran barefoot. In winter, she occasionally put on boots, but they were too big for her, and besides, they were different. After all, Momo either found her things somewhere, or received it as a gift. Her long, ankle-length skirt was made of colored pieces. From above, Momo wore an old men's jacket that was too loose for her, the sleeves of which she always rolled up. Momo did not want to cut them off, she thought that she would soon grow up and who knows if she will ever come across such a wonderful jacket with so many pockets again.

Michael Ende

In the dark, light is visible, like a miracle. A light is visible - but I don't know where. Now he is far away, now as if - here ... I do not know what the name of the light is. Only - whoever you are, star - You, as before, always shine on me! Irish children's song

Part one. MOMO AND HER FRIENDS

Chapter one. BIG CITY AND LITTLE GIRL

In ancient times, when people still spoke languages ​​completely forgotten today, large and beautiful cities already existed in warm countries. There were the palaces of kings and emperors; wide streets stretched from end to end; narrow alleys and dead ends meandered; there were magnificent temples with golden and marble statues of the gods; colorful bazaars were noisy, where they offered goods from all over the world; there were wide squares where people discussed news, made or simply listened to speeches. But above all, these cities were famous for their theaters.

These theaters were similar to the current circus, only built entirely of stone. Rows for spectators were arranged in steps one above the other, as in a huge funnel. And if you look from above, then some of these buildings were round, others formed an oval or half a circle. They were called amphitheaters.

Some of them were huge, like a football stadium, others could hold no more than two hundred spectators. Some were luxurious, with columns and statues, others modest, without any decorations. The amphitheaters had no roofs, all performances were given in the open air. However, in richer theaters, golden-woven carpets were stretched over the rows to protect the audience from the heat of the sun or sudden rain. In theaters, reed or straw mats were more poorer than this. In short, there were theaters for the rich and theaters for the poor. Everyone attended them because everyone was passionate listeners and spectators.

And when people, holding their breath, followed the funny or sad events that took place on the stage, it seemed to them that this only imagined life in some mysterious way seems more truthful, true and much more interesting than their own, everyday. And they loved to listen to this other reality.

Millennia have passed since then. Cities disappeared, palaces and temples collapsed. Wind and rain, heat and cold polished and weathered the stones, leaving ruins from the large theaters. In the old, cracked walls, only the cicadas now sing their monotonous song, like the breath of a sleeping earth.

But some of these ancient cities have survived to this day. Of course, life in them has changed. People travel in cars and trains, they have telephones and electricity. But, sometimes, among the new buildings, you can still see ancient columns, an arch, a piece of a fortress wall or an amphitheater of those distant days.

In one of these cities, this story happened.

On the southern outskirts of a large city, where fields begin, and houses and buildings are becoming poorer, the ruins of a small amphitheater are hidden in a pine forest. Even in ancient times it did not seem luxurious, it was a theater for the poor. And nowadays. that is, in the days when this story with Momo began, almost no one remembered the ruins. Only connoisseurs of antiquity knew about this theater, but even for them it was not of interest, because there was nothing to study there. Sometimes two or three tourists wandered in here, climbed the grassy stone steps, talked, clicked cameras and left. Silence returned to the stone funnel, the cicadas began the next stanza of their endless song, exactly the same as the previous ones.

Most often, the neighboring residents, who have known this place for a long time, have been here. They left their goats to graze here, and the children played ball in a round area in the middle of the amphitheater. Sometimes couples in love met here in the evenings.

Once there was a rumor that someone was living in the ruins. They said it was a child, a little girl, but no one really knew anything. Her name, I think, was Momo.

Momo looked a little strange. For people who appreciated neatness and cleanliness, she acted in a frightening way. She was small and thin, and it was difficult to guess how old she was - eight or twelve. She had violent, bluish-black curls, which, apparently, were never touched by a comb or scissors, large, surprisingly beautiful eyes, also black, and the same color of legs, because she always ran barefoot. In winter, she occasionally put on boots, but they were too big for her, and besides, they were different. After all, Momo either found her things somewhere, or received it as a gift. Her long, ankle-length skirt was made of colored pieces. From above, Momo wore an old men's jacket that was too loose for her, the sleeves of which she always rolled up. Momo did not want to cut them off, she thought that she would soon grow up and who knows if she will ever come across such a wonderful jacket with so many pockets again.

Under the theater stage overgrown with weeds, there were several half-collapsed closets, into which one could get through a hole in the wall. Here Momo made a home for herself. Once at lunchtime, people came to Momo, several men and women. They wanted to talk to her. Momo stood and looked at them in dismay, fearing that they would drive her out of here. But she soon realized that they were kind people. They themselves were poor and knew life well.

- So, - said one of them, - do you like it here?

“Yes,” Momo replied.

- And would you like to stay here?

- Yes very.

- Isn't anyone waiting for you?

“I mean, don’t you want to go home?”

“My home is here,” Momo answered quickly.

- But where are you from?

Momo waved her hand in an uncertain direction: somewhere in the distance.

- Who are your parents? - the man continued to pry.

Raising her shoulders slightly, Momo looked at the questioner in confusion. The people looked at each other and sighed.

“Don't be afraid,” the man continued. “We're not driving you out of here at all. We want to help you. Momo nodded timidly.