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This story is inspired by real events in France in the late 19th century.
Welcome, my lovely.
You are very pretty.
- What? - Come and see.
Look.
You watch her.
Who is it?
How did she get up there?
She climbs trees when we are not looking.
- How do you get her down? - We wait till she comes down.
Sister Marguerite, how are you feeling today?
Very well.
Then climb up there and bring that young girl down.
Bring her down!
We educate young deaf girls, not blind and deaf.
We couldn at look after her properly.
What can I do? Only the asylum will have her.
I am sorry.
May 10.
Today I met a soul.
A tiny little soul, quite fragile.
An imprisoned soul
that I saw shine brightly through her prison bars.
I had thought she was a savage,
a little animal.
But she was waiting for me in that tree.
The girl is locked in a world of darkness and silence.
How can we talk to her? Listen to her?
What is it like to live in total darkness and silence?
Tighter!
That as good.
Education wasn at my choice
and I prefer manual work,
but I met this young girl and can at stop thinking about her.
- You have never taught deaf girls. - I speak their language.
Getting them to break the silence is another matter.
- And she as blind. - Let me try.
I had a revelation.
A revelation?
No, not a revelation. I mean...
Just an idea. A simple idea.
Unless I am wrong, my mission is to look after her.
To give her speech so she may enter the world.
No.
But...
I listened. You asked a question. The answer is no.
Thank you, Mother.
But she can at stay locked in her prison!
Someone must teach her to talk.
- How? - Sign language.
She as blind!
I all make signs in her hand.
It as from birth. Her intelligence has shriveled.
If it as intact, she must suffer from being imprisoned.
If there as even a tiny chance...
It as quite a task. With your health...
My lungs will be the death of me. Till then...
It as a miracle you are alive. No, not a miracle...
The slightest sustained effort could be fatal.
I could die shut away in a bedroom.
I might as well stop living.
Am I the Mother Superior of this institution?
Yes, Mother.
- So must you obey me? - Of course.
If I say no, must you accept it without argument?
May 27.
I am off to fetch little Marie.
I am almost as excited as the day I took my vows.
Anyone there?
It as me.
But...
Who are you?
I ave come...
to help you.
Does she have no shoes?
We never managed to put them on. Nor dress her.
Wait!
I almost forgot.
This knife is her favorite object.
She prefers that to dolls.
You all have to leave her now.
I know.
Go on.
Go! Go!
You.
Me.
Both of us.
Together.
Cow.
There, look.
That as a cow.
Look.
Look at her hair!
You go there.
There.
That as for you. It as your bed. Where you sleep.
Here. OK?
I all be back.
You stay here.
I all be back.
I all fetch her sheets.
She as a new girl. Be nice to her.
You look after her.
I all be back.
Bed!
Stop messing around!
I trusted you.
You are all very naughty.
I all tell Mother Superior. It all all end in tears.
I am disappointed. It as wrong!
Hush. It as me.
It as me. There.
â€œWhen this discourse had lasted for the space of two miles...
â€œBrother Leo questioned him
â€œsaying: â€˜Father, I pray thee,
â€œâ€˜teach me wherein is perfect joy. aâ€
Mother!
Carry on.
â€œAnd Saint Francis replied:
â€œâ€˜If, when we shall arrive... aâ€
Leave me.
â€œâ€˜...drenched with rain and trembling with cold,
â€œâ€˜exhausted by hunger,
â€œâ€˜and if, when we knock at the convent gate,
â€œâ€˜the porter should come angrily,
â€œâ€˜and ask us who we are aâ€
â€œâ€˜and we tell him... aâ€
â€œâ€˜...and he answer: â€˜That is not the truth,
â€œâ€˜ye are two imposters who take away the alms of the poor.
â€œâ€˜Begone! a
â€œâ€˜Then if we accept with patience
â€œâ€˜and without murmuring
â€œâ€˜so much injustice... aâ€
Hot.
â€œâ€˜...believing with humility
â€œâ€˜and charity... aâ€
â€œâ€˜O, Brother Leo,
â€œâ€˜write that this indeed is perfect joy. aâ€
July 26.
Each has her cross to bear.
Right now my life with Marie is an ordeal.
What path should I take?
September 20.
I ave had Marie for four months.
Her language isn at advancing.
She behaves like a wild animal.
It as me.
Wait, wait...
Wait, look.
Knife.
That as your knife.
It as your knife.
Look.
Your knife!
October 27.
Still no progress.
Marie has gone downhill since she as been here.
It as only natural.
I took away her parents, her home,
the little she knew.
I dragged her out of her world.
Pane.
Window.
Stop criticizing me. You are annoying.
Wait...
I lived in silence until I was 4.
My parents didn at know sign language,
but they taught me the rest.
What â€œrestâ€
Everything.
Politeness, behavior, table manners...
She must learn to live with others.
She isn at alone.
You are right. I am educating her badly.
Maybe you were wrong but you can do better.
I ave no courage left.
All this work for nothing.
Till now, you...
You taught me sign language. You know.
All I know is gardening.
Since you know best, carry on.
You ave taken one step. You can take more.
She doesn at understand a thing.
Today, November 15, 8:30,
I am about to do Marie as hair.
Drop! Drop!
Drop! Drop! Drop!
Drop it.
Yes...
There, you see?
There?
Yes.
That as good.
Oh, dash! Marie as here already.
Wait.
Be patient.
We must go to class.
No.
Give them your place.
Oh! Go on, then. It as all yours!
That as it.
She has understood.
Well done!
â€œThe words of our Lord Jesus Christ
â€œtell us that we must make our way
â€œwhile we strive
â€œamid the cares of this world.
â€œWe make our way,
â€œunpossessed as yet of any abiding city.
â€œStill on the journey, not yet come home.
â€œStill hoping, not yet enjoying.
â€œLet us make our way,
â€œnot by fits and starts,
â€œso that some day we may arrive.
â€œMartha and Mary were sisters
â€œnot in the flesh only
â€œbut also in godliness.
â€œTogether they clave unto the Lord...â€
That as your knife.
And that as the sign â€œknifeâ€
Knife.
Wait.
Give it to me.
Go on.
Knife.
Knife. Knife.
Knife.
It as here, look.
Go on. Knife.
Go on.
Go on, then!
Knife. Here, feel.
It as your knife.
You know it! Go on.
Knife.
Yes, yes! Go on!
Yes.
No, no sleeping. No sleeping. Come on!
Come on now.
Knife.
No sleeping, I said. Wake up!
Come on, knife!
Knife!
No, do â€œknifeâ€
Knife.
Yes...
Yes!
Knife!
That as it! Knife!
Mother!
Mother, you must come.
- Come where? - Come and see Marie.
She as been here eight months, no?
Yes, and...
- I find you admirable. - Oh?
So much effort, so few results...
I have results. Marie has made incredible progress.
You must come and see.
Look.
That as it!
What is?
There! She as signing the word â€œknifeâ€
Yes.
She as asking...
â€œforkâ€
That as the sign for â€œforkâ€
Yes.
Bread.
That as it. That as it.
Did you see?
It works.
It works!
Carrot.
There...
Carrot.
Apple.
Grape.
Yes, like that.
Same for the other.
Leaf.
June 15. I am witnessing a wonderful show,
an explosion of language.
It was so hard to learn the first word
but the following words are patently simple.
Donkey.
Marie wants to name everything.
Old...
Next we all be seeing adjectives, sentences,
grammar, abstract words.
Young.
I hope to live long enough to see all that.
Are they coming?
Not yet.
When?
Soon.
It as a long time.
Patience.
They are coming.
Can they see me?
Not yet.
They can see you.
What are you waiting for? Help me down.
Go to them.
What are you waiting for? She as your daughter.
She says she as learning the alphabet
and also...
the spelling of words.
How do we say â€œhelloâ€
My little girl...
â€œMommyâ€
How do we say â€œMommyâ€
- Like this? - Yes.
She says she is happy.
And... she loves you.
Can nothing be done?
Rest, mainly.
And the mountain air.
We won at tell Marie you are leaving.
It would hurt her too much.
â€œThe men with him were dumbfounded half-wits,
â€œhearing the voice but seeing nobody.
â€œSaul got up and, although his eyes were opened,
â€œhe could see nothing.
â€œHe was led to Damascus...â€
Please eat.
No.
â€œIn Damascus, there was a disciple named Ananius...â€
It as me, RaphaÃ«lle.
You must eat.
No, sister. The journey would worsen your condition
and you might... - I all die in the end.
As will we all.
But I all probably go long before you.
I want to finish my task before I go.
Just find me a remedy to get me through the trip.
I am so happy.
I will see Marie again.
She is my joy,
the daughter of my soul,
the light of my life.
It as me.
What as wrong?
Sister Elisabeth has died.
- When? - Just now.
She was working in the garden.
She said she felt hot, and then died.
Sister Elisabeth is broken?
No. Her body is broken.
She is dead.
You and I are the opposite. We are alive.
I am going to die too.
When?
Soon.
I forbid you to die.
I can at decide that. Neither can you.
- Who decides? - God.
Who is God? Where is He? I can at touch Him.
He is everywhere.
Here, here, here...
Even inside you.
April 20.
Marie gave me so many things.
She introduced me to a world I knew nothing about.
A world you can touch,
where everything that is alive pulsates under your fingers.
They are beautiful.
There are lots of them.
Are you all right?
Yes.
Would you like a drink?
Yes.
Careful, it as hot.
You want a drink?
No.
Help.
I won at let her come in.
But she needs to see you.
I didn at ask your opinion.
I want to come in, please.
Marguerite is tired. She is resting.
I want to go in.
I said no.
I want to go in!
Patience. Later.
What about little Marie?
She wasn at seen at lunch.
Where has she got to?
We ave been looking all day.
We looked everywhere.
Look in the trees.
It as dangerous.
Oh, I am still capable of climbing a ladder!
Come on.
I want to see Marguerite.
I want to see Marguerite before she dies.
Before taking the orders myself,
I thought the people of the Church left this world peacefully,
in serenity.
Since then I ave seen several sisters die,
a few priests...
Some allay suspicion.
With more or less skill, they pretend...
they are happy to join their Maker.
But I ave never been fooled.
I felt the revolt clinging to their bodies.
I suppose I all go that way too.
We devoted ourselves to God.
Our whole life is a rebellion.
We rebel against evil,
against the world,
against ourselves.
Why won at you talk to the girl one last time?
I am not ready.
You ave no more time to get ready.
But she is ready.
You worked well.
She knows you will leave her. She has accepted it.
But you haven at.
You haven at accepted leaving her.
Yes.
Will you carry on learning?
Yes.
I won at be there to help you.
The other sisters will take over.
Live!
You must live!
Sister Marguerite, I often think of you.
All day I think of you.
In the morning, when I wake, I think of you.
At night, as I go to sleep, I think of you.
When I learn something new, I think of you.
So far I have learned a great many things.
When you see me from heaven, I hope you are proud of me.
A new little girl arrived today.
She as like me. Deaf and blind.
But she as different from me when I arrived.
She doesn at shout.
She doesn at move.
She smells nice.
She smells of bread.
She as waiting. What is she waiting for?
She as waiting for the word.
The sisters will teach her,
like you taught me.
I shall help them.
I hope we all become friends.
You and I were more than friends.
Marie Heurtin lived for the rest of her life at Notre-Dame de Larnay,
near Poitiers, where she died July 22, 1921, aged 36.
An avid reader in Braille and unbeatable at dominoes,
she never stopped studying and was a guide