The Island Page #3

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Don't upset me, go!

Forgive me and have mercy!

Direct me on my way, O Lord!

For l am weak in soul.

And weak in body - yea!

And of sinful passions

Am l a vicious slave.

Can't you adjust the prop?

Your laundry's on the ground.

Not too many of you today.

What are you doing here?

Writing a petition

to our Heavenly King...

...to survive the winter.

lt's hard for brethren to cut

a grave through permafrost.

Thank God you're joking again,

l feared you'd gone mad.

Look, it's sailing.

Pray for me, Father Anatoly.

You should pray for me.

l'm three times as sinful as you.

What are you saying?

You don't like me, Father Job.

Filaret does, and you--

are trying to please him.

Why should l love you?

You never pass my cell

without a prank.

Now you soil the door handle,

now you plant some trash.

Don't l know about my sins

without your hints?

Okay...

Forget it, brother.

And forgive this sinner.

- Tired?

- No, no.

Fine.

- Let me carry you.

- No, l can manage.

- Careful.

- l can do it.

Yes, of course.

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...

l'm hot, Mom.

The Father will help us.

No one is able to help

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,

l'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,

l'm going to pray to God.

You pray too,

in your own words.

Ask the Lord to heal your leg.

He's kind,

He'll help.

He will.

My dearest...

Just stand still.

ln the name of the Father,

the Son and the Holy Ghost.

Glory be to you, O Lord.

O Heavenly King, Comforter,

and Spirit of Truth,

Come and take up

Your abode in us,

and cleanse us from every stain,

and save our souls.

Ask the Lord.

Yes, ask Him, my love.

Please help me

and heal my leg.

My dear boy...

We are praying to You, our God.

Visit Your grace on

Your servant John,

forgive him all transgressions

Send down Your healing strength

On his flesh.

Put the fire out, quench all heat

And creeping illness.

Heal Thy servant John.

Please, O dear God!

Raise him from his sick bed,

Bring him to Thy Church

That he may understand Thy will

Glory be

to the Father,

and to the Son,

and to the Holy Ghost,

For ever and ever,

Glory be to Thee, O Lord.

O Lord, succor John,

heal his leg.

God Almighty, succor

the suffering and the sick.

l trust in Thee, O Lord.

Now you'll be all right, Vanechka.

Come on, have a go.

No, he can't.

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