faith and the hope of resurrection,
and let them be remembered forever!
It is truly right to bless You,
Theotokos, ever blessed, most pure,
and mother of our God.
More honorable than the Cherubim,
and beyond compare more glorious
than the Seraphim, without corruption
you gave birth to God the Word.
We magnify You, the true Theotokos.
Father!
Take this. All homemade.
Please pray for my late husband.
He has been killed in action
during the Great Patriotic War.
- Have a seat, sister.
Let's have tea. Sit down.
Now tell me your story.
- He keeps coming in my sleep.
- What does he say?
- Nothing.
Just groans.
He must be feeling bad up there.
- Did you love him?
- I still do.
We'd been together just six months.
Then he was recruited.
I've been widowed for 30 years now.
- Well. Given such love,
it'll do no harm to ask.
I'll go see Father Anatoly.
He is not a saint but well-read.
He may give some useful advice.
Come over here.
While I'm talking to him -
I'll open the door - you
stand here and listen.
Just be quiet.
What's his name?
- Mikhail.
Father Anatoly,
a widow here asks you to
pray for the repose of a
fallen warrior, Mikhail.
- What an idea!
A requiem for the living?!
- She says he has laid down
his life in a battle in '44.
- He laid down nothing.
He was captured.
After Victory he stayed in France.
He's ailing now. Wants to see his first,
beloved wife before he dies.
What are you doing here? Go away.
Did you hear?
No requiem for the living, he says.
Your man is alive but ailing.
You gotta go to France.
To comfort the ailing man before
he dies and close his eyes.
Don't stare at me, do it.
- What are you saying, Father?
- Me? To France?
- Why not? People live in France too.
- Impossible.
It's a capitalist country.
They won't let me out!
- No fear.
If Father Anatoly says so, they will.
- But there's my household, cow...
My pig needs to be slaughtered.
- Sell it all, lock, stock and barrel.
- All?
- Lock, stock and barrel.
Sell it, you won't be sorry.
They'll give a lot of money for your pig.
It's a good pig.
If I ate meat I'd buy it.
I would.
- You must be kidding, Father.
- Do you love your husband?
Then go and do
what was preordained.
And...?
Don't upset me, go!
Forgive me and have mercy!
Direct me on my way, O Lord!
For I am weak in soul.
And weak in body - yea!
And of sinful passions
Am I a vicious slave.
Brother, can't you
adjust the prop?
Your laundry's on the ground.
It's bad. Stop at my storehouse.
There are boxes there...
Why not too many of you today?
What are you doing here?
- Writing a petition to our heavenly King...
...to survive the winter.
It's hard for the brethren
to cut a grave in frozen ground.
- Thank God you're joking again,
I feared you'd gone mad.
- Look, it's sailing.
- Pray for me, Father Anatoly.
- You should pray for me.
I'm three times as sinful as you.
- What are you saying?
- You don't like me,
Father Job, don’t you?
Filaret does, and you...
are trying to please him.
- Why should I love you?
You never pass my cell without a prank.
Now you soil the door handle,
now you plant some trash.
Don't I know about my sins
without your hints?
- Okay... Let's forget it, brother.
And forgive me, a sinner.
- Let me carry you.
- No, I can manage.
- Okay, okay.
- Let me carry you.
- No, I can manage.
- Careful.
- I can do it.
- Yes, of course.
Careful.
Careful.
Mind his leg!
He fell from a shed roof.
Broke his leg.
His hip is rotting now.
Four operations but it didn't help.
We've seen all sorts of professors
and surgeons...
- I'm hot, mum.
- Wait, he will help us.
- No one is able to help us,
and his hip is rotting.
- Sit down.
You are tired.
- What's the boy's name?
- Vanechka.
This good man will help us.
Let's take the crutches away.
Get up,
I'll move the block a little.
Put him on the block.
- Don't be afraid.
- Won't it hurt him?
Hold him.
My angel...
Vanechka,
I