Κοινότητα Αναγνωστών Βιβλίων - readers.gr

A story with heroes from the sculpture collection of the National Archaeological Museum in Athens.

One fine morning, Philip, a boy who loves history and adventures, climbs up a hill opposite the Acropolis. In his imagination he explores an ancient, wonderful world and makes a wish: "Oh, if only I could see the festival of the goddess Athena!" Suddenly, through the myrtles, a dancer appears. She is holding castanets in her hands. Where has she come from? Her name is unknown. Then a rhythmical, musical sound is heard: Tak ... tak ... tak ... Philip, in a magical way, travels back to ancient Athens. Before his eyes, the Panathenaic procession will come to life again: the...

I believe you've heard of the clay spindle-wheel that hung, so many years ago, from the spindle of a distaff. One day, it decided it couldn't bear it anymore, and escaped through an open window... Well, that was the same night that it came to my bedroom. "I know eight beautiful stories", it sang, and then spun around in front of me, perfectly round and shining bright. I blew it a kiss and the spindle-wheel sparkled and flew up high above the clouds. But I saw it again. I came to my bedroom, eight evenings in a row. Every night, twirling round happily, it would tell me a...

"They call me Democlides, and I come from the sea," said the man. For a moment, he ran his fingers awkwardly throught his curly hair, and then continued: "My ship sank!" "So then you could tell me all about your adventures!" Phoebos suggested. The man smiled and, blushing slightly, exclaimed: "By the goddess Aphrodite! That may be a very good idea..." Myth and legend mix up around the ancient ship Glafki, which one day set from the Ylaic port of Kerkyra towards Sicily. In the summer of 1993, during a reconnaissance dive near the shores of a small, uninhabited island sou...

I believe you've heard of the clay spindle-wheel that hung, so many years ago, from the spindle of a distaff. One day, it decided it couldn't bear it anymore, and escaped through an open window... Well, that was the same night that it came to my bedroom. "I know eight beautiful stories", it sang, and then spun around in front of me, perfectly round and shining bright. I blew it a kiss and the spindle-wheel sparkled and flew up high above the clouds. But I saw it again. I came to my bedroom, eight evenings in a row. Every night, twirling round happily, it would tell me a...

Once upon a time there lived a little griffin with blue wings. He lived high up on the Acropolis. This was his home. Every evening, he opened his wings and flew above the Holy Rock. He flew to the Parthenon and met with the riders on their horses. Next he flew to the museum and woke the statues and the drawings on the pottery urns. The little griffin spent his time laughing, teasing and making all sorts of mischief. That is, until the statues and urns moved to the new museum of the Acropolis. In order to find his friends again, the little griffin sets off on a journey in...

I believe you've heard of the clay spindle-wheel that hung, so many years ago, from the spindle of a distaff. One day, it decided it couldn't bear it anymore, and escaped through an open window... Well, that was the same night that it came to my bedroom. "I know eight beautiful stories", it sang, and then spun around in front of me, perfectly round and shining bright. I blew it a kiss and the spindle-wheel sparkled and flew up high above the clouds. But I saw it again. I came to my bedroom, eight evenings in a row. Every night, twirling round happily, it would tell me a...

I believe you've heard of the clay spindle-wheel that hung, so many years ago, from the spindle of a distaff. One day, it decided it couldn't bear it anymore, and escaped through an open window... Well, that was the same night that it came to my bedroom. "I know eight beautiful stories", it sang, and then spun around in front of me, perfectly round and shining bright. I blew it a kiss and the spindle-wheel sparkled and flew up high above the clouds. But I saw it again. I came to my bedroom, eight evenings in a row. Every night, twirling round happily, it would tell me a...

I believe you've heard of the clay spindle-wheel that hung, so many years ago, from the spindle of a distaff. One day, it decided it couldn't bear it anymore, and escaped through an open window... Well, that was the same night that it came to my bedroom. "I know eight beautiful stories", it sang, and then spun around in front of me, perfectly round and shining bright. I blew it a kiss and the spindle-wheel sparkled and flew up high above the clouds. But I saw it again. I came to my bedroom, eight evenings in a row. Every night, twirling round happily, it would tell me a...

I believe you've heard of the clay spindle-wheel that hung, so many years ago, from the spindle of a distaff. One day, it decided it couldn't bear it anymore, and escaped through an open window... Well, that was the same night that it came to my bedroom. "I know eight beautiful stories", it sang, and then spun around in front of me, perfectly round and shining bright. I blew it a kiss and the spindle-wheel sparkled and flew up high above the clouds. But I saw it again. I came to my bedroom, eight evenings in a row. Every night, twirling round happily, it would tell me a...

I believe you've heard of the clay spindle-wheel that hung, so many years ago, from the spindle of a distaff. One day, it decided it couldn't bear it anymore, and escaped through an open window... Well, that was the same night that it came to my bedroom. "I know eight beautiful stories", it sang, and then spun around in front of me, perfectly round and shining bright. I blew it a kiss and the spindle-wheel sparkled and flew up high above the clouds. But I saw it again. I came to my bedroom, eight evenings in a row. Every night, twirling round happily, it would tell me a...

I believe you've heard of the clay spindle-wheel that hung, so many years ago, from the spindle of a distaff. One day, it decided it couldn't bear it anymore, and escaped through an open window... Well, that was the same night that it came to my bedroom. "I know eight beautiful stories", it sang, and then spun around in front of me, perfectly round and shining bright. I blew it a kiss and the spindle-wheel sparkled and flew up high above the clouds. But I saw it again. I came to my bedroom, eight evenings in a row. Every night, twirling round happily, it would tell me a...

Ένα βιβλίο που βοηθάει μαθητές, εκπαιδευτικούς και γονείς με τα παιδιά τους ν' ανακαλύψουν -μέσα από προσεκτικά επιλεγμένες δραστηριότητες και παιχνίδια- την ομορφιά και τον πλούτο των γνώσεων που προσφέρει η Ζωφόρος του Παρθενώνα. Με τρόπο ευχάριστο και δημιουργικό, τα παιδιά εξοικειώνονται με την ίδια τη μοναδικά γλυπτική σύνθεση, αλλά και με θέματα, όπως η καθημερινή ζωή των αρχαίων Αθηναίων, οι θεοί και οι γιορτές τους, τα άλογα και τα άρματά τους, τα ενδύματα και οι πολεμικές στολές, τα αγωνίσματα, τα μουσικά όργανα. Το βιβλίο μπορεί ακόμη να προετοιμάσει μια επί...

Μια ιστορία με ήρωες από τη συλλογή των γλυπτών του Εθνικού Μουσείου