Why children are so cruel?
our life are a circulation of events, alternation of generations, education of children. For what there lives a person? Not to leave behind rich dachas and a lot of money, good or bad memories and to bring up worthy people, to keep on the earth replacement, the krovinochka. Children please adults, touch.
But what happens to them when they meet animals? Each person saw how the children scoff at animals: attach to cats of a petard, beat dogs, cripple birds, kill them in the most severe way.
Of course, it is possible to blame children, to abuse for cruelty and callousness. But whether adults brought up such monsters?
It and parents who did not hold the hand which threatened on someone in time. Which are not interested that is watched by children on TV what games they play.
It and simple passersby, to horror indifferent. At the sight of mockeries at animals adults turn away and pass by. Nobody will make remarks to the young sadist. The house them is waited by the children, and to strangers they do not have business. But people forget that their Ear rings and Slaviki at any time will meet that boy from the neighboring yard, the street or even the city. What the good child from bad what consequences will be will learn - it will be clear when the child grows up. But to correct already in it is mute nothing it will be impossible.
It is interesting when these children grow up, bring already the children - whether they remember the innocent ruined soul of a defenseless animal? Whether they feel painful pain and shame for such past? And whether they that their children did the same wish?
At first children kill animals, and then... Happens, and people. The statistics says that many maniacs in the childhood quietly killed animals and even derived from it pleasure. Knowing it, people quietly pass by mockeries.
I became the involuntary witness (the truth, not the first time) next, according to participants, a hokhma: boys of years 10 - 12 with joyful laughter and rough jokes legs threw each other a kitten. Then took in hand, raised over the head and with a force threw about asphalt. From this awful show I knocked down legs...
Having grabbed the dying lump in hands, I rushed up hill and down dale. And kids ran for me and asked: “ Aunt! This is your cat? “. And I could answer nothing from tears...
If once towards evening -
(Well suddenly you so late from work),
you Walk, and your shoulders
To the earth pull thoughts, cares,
Suddenly see - children play
Not in a ball, not in a lapta, not in baseball, Nozhonkami`s
of the Kitten, playing soccer.
What to make to you, adult and strong? to Pass
by, to think of tasty?
That did not seem violence
Attempt to interfere with so mean.
Or perhaps to tell: “ Faugh! Spawn!
of Cats needs to be handed over in a knackery! “ Consider
that two - three freaks
Are brought up by you in subdomestics.
And someone, rescuing a kitten,
Runs, soils with blood hands. Hot tears fighting back
With feeling of all pain and flour.
And children run with you a row,
Shout: “ Aunt! Yours is a cat? “
you are afraid to call the child a reptile
I to set in mamulenkin a mouth!
But so painfully to feel heart,
That fights as a bird in palms.
the same heart of the baby,
Living in little cats.
Ah children! Well you are such!
Killed innocent soul! there is no
, adults, are we angry,
That by we pass callousness.
Set the children on the right path, cultivate in them humanity and pity to weak. And then neither myshkina, nor cat`s slyozk will be cast to your children.