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This story ends
before you were born.

Mother.

Again.

When we woke up

feeling hands that
were no longer there,

the elders told us
that it was the work of ghosts

or Satan.

Or that we were lying
to get attention.

Or that it was an act
of wild female imagination.

It went on for years.

To all of us.

It felt like weightlessness.

It felt like drifting over
what used to be real.

- It felt like a banishment,

as though we had
no invitation anymore

to be a part of the real.

I used to wonder
who I would be

if it hadn't happened to me.

I used to miss the person
I might have been.

I don't anymore.

Because it's doomsday

and a call to prayer.

It's both.

We caught one of them.

I saw his face.

And then he named the others.

Come on.

Eventually the attackers

were taken to the police
in the city

for their own protection.

Almost all of the men
of the colony

went to the city to post bail

for the attackers.

We were given two days

to forgive the attackers
before they returned.

If we did not forgive them

we would be ordered
to leave the colony

and be denied entry
into the Kingdom of Heaven.

Do nothing.

Stay and fight.

Leave.

Girls in our colony
had very little schooling.

We hardly knew
how to read or to write.

But that day,

we learned how to vote.

The vote was tied between

staying and fighting,
or leaving.

So three families
including yours and mine

were elected to decide

what the women
of the colony would do.

Your mother had asked,
August, the school teacher,

to take the minutes
of our meeting.

August came back to the colony
just recently.

His family had been
excommunicated years ago.

August had loved your mother
since he was a boy.

Before we began,

your grandmother, Agata,

told us we had to honor
our service to each other.

We had to represent it.

Just as the disciples
were washed

by Jesus at the Last Supper,

knowing that his hour
had come.

We only had 24 hours

to imagine what world
you would be born into.

It is a part
of our faith to forgive.

We have always forgiven those
who have wronged us.

Why not now?

Because now we know better.

We will be excommunicated,

forced to leave the colony
in disgrace

if we do not forgive
these men.

And if we are excommunicated,

we forfeit our place
in Heaven.

How could any of you
live with the fear of that?

These are
legitimate fears.

How can we address them?

The only
important thing to establish

is if we forgive the men.

So that we will be allowed
to enter the gates of Heaven.

You can laugh
all you like, Salome,

but we will be forced
to leave the colony

if we don't forgive the men.

How will the Lord
when he arrives

find the women
if we aren't in the colony?

Jesus is able
to return to life,

live for thousands of years

and then drop down
to earth from Heaven

to scoop up his supporters,

surely he'd also
be able to locate

a few women
who left their colony.

Let's stay on track.

All right. I'll stay on track.

I cannot forgive them.

I will never forgive them.

I can't either.

But we want to enter

the Kingdom of Heaven
when we die.

We have everything
we want here.

No.

Want less.

Does entering
the Kingdom of Heaven

mean nothing to any of you?

Surely there must be something

worth living for in this life,
not only in the next.

Autje!

- See you soon. It's all right.
- Sorry.

It's all right.
It will be all right.

Your grandmother
used to say,

"Find out where
you can be of help

"and leave what
you can't help behind."

I think that's easier

when you're old like her.

So we must decide now

to stay and fight, or leave.

Those are the options
in front of us.

We will not do nothing.

I want to talk about
my horses Ruth and Cheryl.

When Ruth and Cheryl
are frightened by Dueck's dogs

on the mile road
that leads to the church,

their initial instinct
is to bolt.

Whoa!

These horses
don't organize meetings

to decide what they will do.

They run.

But, Greta,
we are not animals.

We have been preyed upon
like animals.

Maybe we should respond
like animals.

In my lifetime,
I have seen

horses confront angry dogs

and try to stomp them
to death.

Animals don't always flee.

Is this how we want
to teach our daughters

to defend themselves?

By fleeing?

Not fleeing but leaving.

I was just talking
about leaving.

I would rather
stand my ground

and shoot each man
in the heart

and bury 'em in a pit
than flee.

And I'll deal with God's wrath
if I have to.

Salome, Aunt Greta is talking
about leaving not fleeing.

The word "fleeing"
wasn't what she meant.

Yeah. Please forgive my mother
for using the wrong word.

It's a sin so outrageous

that Salome has taken it
upon herself

to rectify for the sake
of all humanity.

"Leaving" and "fleeing"
are different words

with different meanings.

They each say
something about us.

August,

what do you make
of all of this?

Do you have an opinion too?

I think...

I think that it is possible

to leave something
or someone...

in one frame of mind

and arrive elsewhere
in another

entirely unexpected
frame of mind.

I want to stay and fight.

But won't we lose the fight
to the men

and be forced
to forgive them anyway?

I want to stay and fight too.

No one's surprised
that you do.

All you do is fight.

Is this really
how we are to decide

the fates of all the women
in this colony?

Just another vote

where we put an X
next to our position?

I thought we were here
to do more than that.

You mean talk more about

forgiving the men
and doing nothing.

Everything else is insane.

But none of you
will listen to reason.

Well, why are you
here with us?

Why are you still here with us
if that is what you believe?

Just leave with the rest
of the do nothing women.

She is my daughter
and I want her here with us.

Is forgiveness
that's forced upon us

true forgiveness?

Keep nonsense
like that to yourself please.

Autje, get down!

Autje,
listen to your mother!

Behave yourself.

Don't you hear
the rafter's creaking?

Do you want
the roof to cave in?

Many of us
saw ourselves from above.

I'm not sure if it was God

and we were seeing ourselves
through his eyes.

Or if we
just couldn't be there.

In our own bodies.

How'd you
get up there?

It was a miracle.

A miracle from God.

- Of course.
- What else?

Where I come from,

where your mother comes from,

we didn't talk
about our bodies.

So when something
like this happened

there was no language for it.

And without language for it,
there was a gaping silence.

And in that gaping silence
was the real horror.

Neitje's mother hanged herself

after the attacks
had gone on for a while.

It made us wonder,

why did our feet
keep moving forward

when hers just couldn't.

What sets us apart

from the ones
who get left behind?

This is never going to end.

We'll be dead
and they'll still be talking.

Or worse.
We'll have to live through it.

August, I think
you should make lists

of the pros and cons
of both options.

"Staying and fighting"
and "leaving."

Post it on the wall.

Make sure and write large.

Why?

We can't read it.

No, but we'll keep it here
as an artifact

for others to discover.

I think the first heading
should say,

"staying and fighting"
and under that write "pros".

Who will go first?

We're starting with
staying and fighting, pros.

Why do we need this?
This is our home.

That's what you believe,

it's not what
everyone believes.

- Excuse me.

Forgive me.
Excuse me, um...

May I request that you
take it in turns speaking

so that I can understand
what each of you is saying.

It takes me
a second to transcribe.

Should we put up our hands

as though we are children
in your schoolhouse?

I...

I apologize.

We won't have to leave.

- Sorry.
- Will you just write it down?

Under pros.

Salome has had
a brilliant idea

that if we stay
we won't have to leave.

We won't
have to figure out

where we are going
or experience the uncertainty

of not knowing
where we are going.

We don't have a map.

That's absurd.

The only certainty we'll know
is uncertainty,

no matter where we are.

Neitje? Autje?

Do you have something
to add to the list?

We won't have
to leave the people we love.

Well, we could bring
our loved ones

with us if we leave.

How?

What does that mean?
That we move the whole colony?

What could that possibly mean?

We could create
the possibility of a new order

right here in a place
that is familiar to us.

Not simply familiar,
but a place that is ours.

Do we need
to write the cons?

Isn't it obvious
that we must stay and fight?

Cons. We won't be forgiven.

May I say something?

Please.

Would it be a good idea
before we list

the pros and cons
of "staying and fighting"

to talk about
exactly what it is

we're fighting for?

It's obvious.

We are fighting for our safety

and for our freedom
from attacks.

But what would
that mean to us?

Perhaps we need a statement
which describes

what we want the colony
to be like

after winning the fight.

Perhaps we need
to understand more

what it is
we are fighting to achieve,

not only what we are fighting
to destroy.

Are we staying
or are we going?

Ona, please tell us more

about the statement
you're thinking about.

Men and women would make

all decisions
for the colony collectively.

Women would be
allowed to think.

Girls will be taught
to read and to write.

The schoolhouse must display
a map of the world

so that we can begin
to understand our place in it.

A new religion,
taken from the old

but focused on love

would be created
by the women of the colony.

Our children would be safe.

"Collectively."

You sound
like August's mother.

Ona, you're a dreamer.

We're women without a voice.

We have nothing to return to.

Even the animals
are safer in their homes

than we women are.

All we have are our dreams.

So of course we are dreamers.

And you want to hear my dream?

I dream that people
who speak nonsense,

who have no grasp on reality,

are not put in charge
of making statements.

What if the men
refuse to meet our demands?

Sorry.

We'll kill them.

No, Ona.

What if the men
who are in prison

are not guilty?

Mother?

Autje.

Why are you asking
if they're...?

Autje, shush.

We caught one of them.

I saw him.

But only one.

Yes, only one,
but he named the others.

But what if he was lying?

We must consider this.

No! That is not
our responsibility

because we aren't in charge

of whether or not
they are punished.

We know that
we've been attacked by men.

Not by ghosts or Satan

as we were led to believe
for so long.

We know that we've not
imagined these attacks.

That we were made unconscious
with cow tranquilizer.

We know that we are bruised,
and infected,

and pregnant, and terrified,
and insane,

and some of us are dead.

We know that
we must protect our children.

Regardless of who is guilty.

All right, Salome. Thank you.
Please, sit down, hmm.

Hmm.

Shall we move on?

It is possible
the men in prison

are not guilty of the attacks,

but are they guilty
of not stopping the attacks?

Are they guilty of knowing

about the attacks
and doing nothing?

How should we know
what they're guilty of or not?

But we do know.

We do know that the conditions
have been created by men

and that these attacks
have been made possible

because of the circumstances
of the colony.

And those circumstances

have been created
and ordained by the men.

But wait,
aren't you suggesting

that the attackers
are as much victims

as the victims of the attacks?

That all of us,
men and women

are victims
of the circumstances

from which the colony
has been created.

In a sense, yes.

So then, even if the court
finds them guilty or innocent,

they are...

after all innocent.

Yes, I would say so.

- The elders called them evil.
- That's not true.

It's the elder's
quest for power

that is responsible.

Because they needed
to have those...

Those they'd have power over.

And those people are us.

And they have taught
the lesson of power

to the boys and men
of the colony,

and the boys and men
have been excellent students.

Don't we all
want some sort of power?

I think so.

But I'm not sure.

But we caught them.

We caught them.

Yes, you did.

Then why are you
making it so complicated?

This is very, very boring.

We could ask the men to leave.

Ask the men to leave?

None of us have ever
asked the men for anything.

Not a single thing.

Not even for
the salt to be passed.

Not even for a penny,
or a moment alone.

Or to take the washing in,
or to open a curtain,

or to go easy
on the small yearlings.

Or to put your hand
on the small of my back

while I try again
for the 12th or 13th time

to push a baby out of my body.

Isn't it interesting

that the one and only request
we women would have of the men

would be for them to leave?

Asking the men to leave
is not an option.

Oh!

I'd like you to imagine
Ruth and Cheryl.

No. Not again.

Please stop.

Look. August is still
taking the minutes.

I can't believe August
is still taking the minutes.

Sometimes I think
people laugh

as hard as they'd like to cry.

August, you must think
we're all lunatics.

I don't.

And it doesn't matter
what I think, anyway.

Is that true?

Do you really think it doesn't
matter what you think?

How would you feel
if in your entire life

it never mattered
what you thought?

But I'm not here to think.

I'm here to take the minutes
of your meeting.

But if in your entire life
you truly felt

it didn't matter
what you thought,

how would that make you feel?

When we've
liberated ourselves,

we will have to ask ourselves
who we are.

Will we be done
by supper time?

I have to give
little Miep her antibiotics.

Where did you get antibiotics?

She walked.

She walked for
a day and a half

to the mobile clinic

with Miep on her back.

The Lord is gracious
and compassionate,

slow to anger,

rich in loving
kindness and forgiveness.

The Lord is gracious
and compassionate,

slow to anger,

rich in loving
kindness and forgiveness.

The Lord is gracious
and compassionate,

slow to anger,

rich in loving
kindness and forgiveness.

I have to hide the antibiotics
in Miep's applesauce

or she won't swallow them.

The Lord is gracious
and compassionate,

slow to anger,

rich in loving
kindness and forgiveness.

The Lord is gracious
and compassionate,

slow to anger,

rich in loving
kindness and forgiveness.

The Lord is gracious
and compassionate,

slow to anger,

rich in loving
kindness and forgiveness.

The Lord is gracious
and compassionate,

slow to anger...

Forgive me.

They're too big for my mouth.

The Lord is gracious
and compassionate,

slow to anger,

rich in loving
kindness and forgiveness.

The Lord is gracious
and compassionate,

slow to anger, rich in loving
kindness and forgiveness.

Well, let's take a break.

- Melvin.

You're it.

Not one word
about my smoking.

Honestly, I'm sick of it.

Okay,
I'm coming over here.

Watch out!

Is she always
going to be like this now?

Like what?

A man.

Is Nettie always
going to be a man now?

Later,
we understood that Nettie

didn't become a man
because of what happened.

Nettie had never
felt like a woman.

Now pretending
had become impossible.

Is my brother listening?

Hello, little brother.

I don't know
if the baby was yours,

or if it was
one of your friends.

I think it
was likely yours though...

because there was something
wrong with it.

I loved it.

I think.

Isn't that strange?

I won't speak of it.

Or anything else.

Ever again.

But...

But what?

She doesn't
speak anymore.

You all right?

She speaks
to the children.

Kind of.

I think they call her Melvin.

You know, during
the Second World War in Italy,

civilians would hide
in bomb shelters.

Volunteers were needed

to power the generators
that provided electricity.

They rode bikes.

And when you were swinging
from the rafter earlier,

I was, uh, reminded of this.

You would have been
the perfect volunteer.

If we were in a bomb shelter.

Where would I ride the bike to
in such a small space?

Oh, well, uh,
the bike would be stationary.

I have to get the water
to the horses.

Watch this.

Oh!

I'll bet you didn't learn
how to do things like that

when you went to university.

Only facts about
stationary bicycles

in far off places.

I suppose I shouldn't be
too sad then.

That I won't ever go.

Why were you forced
to leave the colony?

My mother questioned things.

She questioned God?

Not God.

Power.

The rules made
in the name of God.

And she encouraged others
to question things too.

Like Ona?

Yes.

Ona knew her well.

Did she die?

But sometimes,

listening to you all
speaking today

I can hear her so clearly.

Why did the elders
let you come back?

Well, I went to university

so I could serve a purpose
and teach the boys.

Too late.

I want to help.

And I don't know how.

You came back for Ona,
didn't you?

The way you look at her is

funny.

I don't know why
she won't just marry you.

You both say so much
that doesn't make sense.

Mama.

All residents, please come out

of your homes to be counted
for the 2010 census.

Hey, hey, hey.
Shoo, shoo, shoo!

Away. Away!

Please come out
and be counted now.

Please come out of your homes

to be counted
for the 2010 census.

All residents must come out
of their homes

to be counted
for the 2010 census.

Whoo!

All right.
You want to try this one?

This is the 2010 census.

Please come out of your homes

to be counted
for the 2010 census.

- Tickle, tickle, tickle.

I'm here to collect data
for the 2010 census.

Please come out
of your homes now

to be counted.

Let's go.

Why?

Let's just... Let's go.

The ladies standing
in front of me.

- How old are you?

- I'm 15.
- I'm 16.

Okay.
So you must have boyfriends.

Oh!

- No. We don't have boyfriends.
- No boyfriend?

I'll see
you ladies again.

- Mm-hmm
- Take care.

♪ Homecoming queen ♪

♪ Cheer up, sleepy Jean ♪

♪ Oh, what can it mean ♪

♪ To a daydream believer ♪

♪ And a home...♪

Where is Autje?

Well, we must
begin without her.

Thank you.

Were you smoking?

Is that any of your business?

Please.

I can't live
a second longer!

Autje!

- Autje!

Autje, wait until
I get ahold of you.

The census taker just told us

that one of our men
is returning

from the city late tonight.

They need more bail money
for the attackers.

Which man?

Your Klaas.

So time
is of the essence.

Everyone get back
to your seats.

August, please,
pros for leaving.

Pros for leaving.

We will be gone.

We will be safe.

Maybe not.

The first is most
definitely a fact,

that if we leave
we will be gone.

Do we really need to state
the obvious over and over?

Yes, Autje.

We will see
a bit of the world.

Let's move on
to the cons of leaving.

We, the women, will decide

what happens
in these meetings.

Not a two-bit failed farmer
who must teach.

You have been invited here.

You have been invited
here to listen

to what we have to say
and write it down.

Nothing more.
Just listen.

Mariche!

Klaas will be returning soon
and you are wasting time.

He will come to your house
just long enough

to take his animals in order
to sell for bail money

that will see the rapists
return to the colony

and he will lay his hands

on you and on your children.

And you, as always,
do nothing,

but fire away at us
with all of this rage.

I would like to apologize

for wrongly attempting
to nudge the proceedings.

That's not my place.

Mejal!

I'll stop.

Mama.

What's the matter?
What's the matter?

What is it? Hmm?

Miep, what is it?

I hurt.

It's all right.

It's all right.

It's all right.

There are no cons of leaving.

It's all right.

Not to worry, Nettie.

♪ Children of
The heavenly Father ♪

♪ Safely in His bosom gather ♪

♪ Nestling bird
Nor star in Heaven ♪

♪ Such a refuge ♪

♪ E'er was given ♪

♪ Though He giveth
Or He taketh ♪

♪ God His children
Ne'er forsaketh ♪

♪ His, the loving purpose
Solely ♪

♪ To preserve them ♪

♪ Pure and holy ♪

♪ Children of
The heavenly Father ♪

♪ Safely in ♪

♪ His bosom gather ♪

♪ Nestling bird
Nor star in Heaven ♪

♪ Such a refuge ♪

♪ E'er was given ♪

If we do leave the colony,

how will we live with the pain
of never seeing our brothers

and our sons again?

The men?

Time will heal.

Our freedom and safety
are the ultimate goals.

And it is men who prevent us
from achieving those goals.

But not all men.

Perhaps not men,

but a way of seeing the world,
and us women,

which has been allowed
to take hold

of men's hearts and minds.

So if we leave...
if we leave

I will never see
my brothers again?

Who will
take care of them?

Of them all?

We can't know
if we will stay or leave

before we resolve

these last-minute concerns.

I wouldn't call
the future of our relationship

with the boys and men we love
"last-minute concerns."

There we go.

It was all waiting
to happen before it happened.

You could look back
and follow the breadcrumbs

along the path
that led to violence.

When we looked back,

we could see
that it had been everywhere,

whether it was happening yet
or not.

Hi.

Hi.

I'll get you some water.

There's no cup or anything.

It's good
that you're here, August.

To remind us
of what's possible.

Because it's easy to forget.

I'm so sorry, Ona.

One day I'd like to hear that

from someone
who should be saying it.

Why does love...

The absence of love,
the end of love,

the need for love,

result in so much violence?

Ona.

Ona.

I could take care of you

and your child.

I would like to.

I, um...

I know,

but you don't have
to say the words.

If I were married,
I wouldn't be myself.

So the person you love
would be gone.

Your child...

If we stay
and we don't win the fight,

my child will be given

to another family here.

Maybe even the family
of my attacker.

If we stay
and don't win the fight.

You won't let that happen. No.

No.

No, I won't.

August,
we need to discuss options

for the men
and the older boys,

if the women decide to leave.

Which is a waste of time
because we're not leaving.

The men should leave with us
if they wish.

Then what on earth
is the point of us leaving?

Well, they could be allowed
to join the women later

once the women
have established themselves

and are thriving.

Should we add

"thriving as a collective,
literate community"?

Literate's your word.
Not ours.

We don't need your university
language to make our plans.

Put it in.
We know what it means.

Continue, Greta.

Young boys,
simple-minded boys of any age,

Cornelius who's confined
to a wheelchair,

will accompany the women.

I vote for the first option.

The men should leave with us
if they wish.

The first option is ridiculous

and should be
crossed off the list.

Why are some ideas
written down and considered,

and others crossed out?

I want to leave.
I'd like to strangle myself.

Mariche, it's possible
that all the men

would choose to leave with us.

And then all we'd be doing
is recreating our colony

with all of its
dangers elsewhere.

And the men
would definitely

leave with us because

they can't survive without us.

Well, not for longer
than a day or two.

We have not
decided to leave.

I'd like to remind everyone
of that.

And how can we leave
at all if we've never

been allowed to even see
a map of the world?

I can secure
a world map for you.

I also have a, um,
map of this specific region.

Well, that will do.

It's not like we are planning
to travel the planet.

Perhaps we are.

Did you know
that the migration period

for butterflies
and dragonflies is so long

that it's often
only the grandchildren

that arrive
at the intended destination?

Yes. So, it...

Yes.

Perhaps, if we went beyond
where the map showed us,

we could create
our own map as we go.

So now you want to leave, Ona?

Are you all right,
Mejal?

Nope. She's having
one of her episodes.

Father Almighty,

in all humility
and supplication we ask Thee

for Thy abundant kindness

at this moment.

We beseech Thee

to have mercy
on our sister Mejal.

- Please, in your beneficence,

heal her.

- And please...

...we ask of Thee, envelop her

in your strength
and everlasting love,

and please drive out
the sickness

which afflicts her now.

Help me up.

Praise be to God.

Why is it
only Mejal has these...?

Be quiet.

We were all attacked.

Not all of us need to draw

so much attention
to ourselves.

What attention?

I speak less
than all of you put together.

How have I offended you?

You have
these attacks.

You smoke.

Why? Why is it so much
harder for you than for us?

We were all attacked.
All of us.

We are wasting our time
by passing this burden,

this sack of stones,
from one to the next,

by pushing our pain away.

Let's absorb it ourselves.
Let's inhale it.

Let's digest it.

Let's process it into fuel.

Speak, Mejal.

We are listening.

They made us
disbelieve ourselves.

That was worse than...

Mejal.

Klaas, when he returns,

may take horses or livestock

that we would need
along the way.

Along the way?

We're not leaving.

You are changing
your mind, Ona.

I don't believe
that's a sin, is it?

How will
we be forgiven for all this?

How will we be forgiven,

if not by the elders
whom we have disobeyed?

Perhaps there will be
other elders or men of God

who will be able
to forgive our sins.

We do not need to be forgiven
by the men of God

for protecting our children

from the depraved actions
of vicious men

who are often
the very same men

we're meant to ask
for forgiveness!

If God is a loving God then...

He will forgive us himself.

If God is a vengeful God

then He has created us
in His image.

If God is omnipotent,

then why has He not protected

the women and girls
of this colony?

I will destroy

any living thing
that harms my child.

I will tear it limb from limb.

I will desecrate its body

and I will bury it alive.

I will challenge God
on the spot

to strike me dead

if I have sinned

by protecting my child
from evil,

and by destroying that evil
that it may not harm another!

I will lie,

I will hunt, I will kill.

I will dance on graves

and I will burn
forever in hell

before I allow another man

to satisfy his violent urges

with the body
of my four-year-old child!

I suggest we think
about what is good.

"Whatever is true,

"whatever is honorable,

"whatever is just,

"whatever is pure,

"whatever is pleasing,

"whatever is commendable,

"if there is any excellence

"and if there
is anything worthy of praise,

"think about these things

"and the peace of God
be with you."

I will become a murderer
if I stay.

I know what these are.
These are letters.

But what are these?

They're commas.

They signify a short pause,
or a breath in the text.

There's also a butterfly
called a comma.

- Is that so?
- Mm-hmm.

- Salome.

If you will become a murderer
by staying here in the colony,

side by side with the men

who are responsible
for the attacks,

then you must,

to protect your own soul,

leave the colony.

We are not all murderers.

Not yet.

I have done
what the verse

from Philippians instructed,

which is to think
about what is good,

what is just, what is pure,

what is excellent.

Pacifism.

Pacifism is good.

Any violence

is unjustifiable.

By staying here, we women

will be betraying
the central tenet of our faith

which is pacifism,

because by staying

we will knowingly
be placing ourselves

in a direct collision course
with violence,

either by us or against us.

This colony is the only home
I've ever known.

And I don't want to leave.

But by staying,

we'll be inviting harm.

We will be in a state of war.

We will turn this colony
into a battlefield.

We cannot
become murderers.

And we cannot endure
any more violence,

which is why we must leave.

I've also been thinking

about the verse
from Philippians

and I've been thinking
about what is good.

Freedom is good.

It is better than slavery.

Forgiveness is good.

It's better than revenge.

And hope for the unknown
is good,

it is better than
hatred of the familiar.

And what about security,

and safety, and home,
and family?

What about marriage,

and love, Ona?

I don't know
about those things,

any of them.

Except for love

and... even love
is mysterious to me.

And I believe that my home

is with my mother,
and my sister,

and my unborn child,
wherever that may be.

Will you not hate that child?

That child's the child
of a man

who inspires
violent thoughts in you.

I already love this child
more than anything.

He or she
is as innocent and lovable

as the evening sun.

So too was the child's father
when he was born.

But, if you're saying

that forgiveness
is better than revenge...

Aren't you saying
that we must stay here

and forgive the men?

We cannot forgive
because we are forced to.

But, with some distance
perhaps I am able

to understand how these crimes
may have occurred.

And with that distance,

maybe I am able
to pity these men,

perhaps forgive them.

And even love them.

Not fighting. But moving.

Always moving. Never fighting.
Just moving.

Never fighting. Just moving.
Never fighting. Always moving.

Would you snap out of it?

You snap out of it.

All of you
snap out of it.

Have you lost your minds?
The sun is gone.

I want to tell another story
about Ruth and Cheryl.

I was always frightened

of the northern road
out of the colony.

There are so many gullies
on either side of the road.

The buggy used to lurch
side to side.

Ruth and Cheryl were simply

following my commands
of the reins,

but, they were
jerky and frenetic.

And it was dangerous.

It was only when I learned
to focus my gaze

far down ahead of me

and not on the road

immediately in front
of Ruth and Cheryl,

that I started to feel safe.

Leaving will give us

the more farseeing perspective
we need

to forgive.

Which is to love properly

and keep the peace,
according to our faith.

Therefore, our leaving

wouldn't be
an act of cowardice

or abandonment.

Let's see you go.

It wouldn't be because

we were excommunicated
or exiled.

It would be
a supreme act of faith...

Come on, let's go. Let's go.

...a step towards
love and forgiveness.

Leaving is how
we demonstrate our faith.

We are leaving because

our faith is stronger
than the rules.

Bigger than our life.

I'm sorry.
But I think I might be dying.

Mother, you're not dying.

Your glasses need cleaning.

Why are you laughing?

We cannot leave.

We...

It would be better
to stay and fight than leave.

Do you really mean
that you want to stay

and not fight?

Because when was the last time
you had the strength

to stand up
to the aggression of Klaas,

to protect your children,

- or to get out of harm's way?
- Who are you

to tell me what kind of
wife and mother to be

when you are
neither one yourself?

You are a spinster. A whore!

- An unwed mother!
- Stop.

Ona was
made unconscious

and raped like the rest of us.

How dare you call her a whore!

Mariche, are you not afraid
that your own sweet boys

will become monsters
like their father

because you do nothing
to protect them?

- Stop it!
- Nothing to educate them,

nothing to teach them

the horror of
their father's ways...

I have heard enough!

Do you women realize
we are talking about leaving?

We are a large group.
Many things could go wrong.

And time is fleeting.

For the love
of our Lord Jesus Christ

and precious Savior,

shut your pie holes, please!

How dare you
pass judgment on me?

It wasn't a judgment.
It was a question.

Tell her you're sorry.

I'm sorry.

I'm sorry that
what I said hurt you.

Oh, fuck it off!

Sit down, Mariche!

It's "fuck off" I think.

Shh!

I am sorry.

I'm saying sorry, not just
to leave the hurt behind,

but because I feel truly

that I should not have
said something harmful to you.

And Mariche, I'm sorry

because you do not
need or deserve any more harm.

Who are you?

Who are any of you

to pretend
I have had a choice?

I am also sorry, Mariche.

I didn't try to protect you
or your children from Klaas.

And what you say is true.
You had no choice.

You forgave him,
again and again,

as you were told to.

As I told you to.

I'm sorry.

I'm sorry.

I'm sorry.

It's not only the men and boys

who have been
excellent students.

I think Mariche,
we are all very sorry.

What you were required
to endure was a...

Misuse of forgiveness.

Is there such a thing?

A forgiveness
that is not good?

Perhaps forgiveness
can in some instances

be confused with permission.

What in heaven's name?

What is it?
Julius, what is it?

Nettie, please.
Make an exception

and tell us what is happening.

What has happened to him?

Nettie, be realistic.

Tell us what has happened
to Julius.

Speak. Just this once.

What's wrong, sweetheart?

My nose.
There's a cherry up my nose.

Okay, well, blow.

- Harder. Again.

There you go.

We have no cherries
in the colony.

Klaas sometimes brings them
back from the city.

Who gave you
the cherries, Julius?

Papa.

Why don't you...

You go and play
with Nettie, all right?

Have we
made a decision?

Are we leaving?

Yes.

We are leaving because...

We know why we are leaving.

We are leaving
because we cannot stay.

Hmm.

We will take young boys of 12
with us.

Allow the men
to join the women later

under certain conditions.

- No.
- No.

Aaron. I know.

Aaron is just over 12.
Just barely.

Why would boys
of 13 and 14 be left behind?

Why wouldn't
they leave with us?

Surely, we don't
have to be afraid

of the boys of this age.

August, you're
the boys' teacher.

What is your feeling
about this?

Do boys of that age

pose a risk
to our girls and women?

Yes. Possibly.

Boys of 13 or 14 are capable

of causing great damage
to girls and women.

And to each other.

It is a brash age.

They are possessed
of reckless urges,

physical exuberance,

intense curiosity
that often results in injury.

Unbridled emotion,

including deep tenderness
and empathy,

and not quite enough

experience
or brain development

to fully understand
or appreciate

the consequences
of their words or actions.

They are like the yearlings.

Young, awkward,
gleeful, powerful.

They're tall, muscular,

sexually inquisitive creatures,

with little impulse control,
but they are children.

They are children
and they can be taught.

I'm a two-bit schoolteacher,

a failed farmer,

and above all a believer.

And I believe
that with guidance,

firm love and patience,

these boys are capable
of relearning

their roles as males
in the colony.

I believe in
what the great poet

Samuel Taylor Coleridge

thought were the cardinal
rules of early education.

"To work by love

"and so generate love.

"To habituate the mind

"to intellectual
accuracy and truth.

"To excite imaginative power."

He said,

"Little is taught
by contest or dispute,

"everything by
sympathy and love."

I believe the boys
should be allowed

to leave with the women...

Providing the women
choose to leave.

It was a yes
or no question.

You shit like any other man,
why don't you talk like one?

Sorry.

I have a proposal
to make.

We have to protect
all of our children.

Not only our daughters.

Every boy under 15

and the ones
who need special care

must accompany the women.

How do you mean must?

What if they refuse?

What if they
don't want to leave?

We can't carry teenagers
on our backs.

We will try
to influence our sons.

But we cannot force them,

and they might refuse,
it's true.

August...

you would stay and teach
the boys who remain?

Of course.

He's right outside.

Klaas?

He has Ruth and Cheryl.

Everybody, back to your houses
and pack up.

If anyone asks,
we were quilting.

August, uh, get the map.

Neitje and Autje,

you must run right now
to every house

and tell the women,
we are leaving.

Tell them to pack up
everything they can

and to meet us
outside the washhouse

an hour after sunrise.

We need to get
an early start in the morning.

Let's all meet back here
at sunrise.

All of us.

An hour after sunrise.

We congregate on the road
by the washhouse.

- Do we bring...
- Everything. Bring everything.

Why?

- After sunrise... All right?
- Wake up.

Tomorrow one hour
after sunrise.

We're leaving after sunrise.

We meet an hour after sunrise
on this road.

Bring your buggies.

Thank you, sister.

Who can get home
the quickest, huh?

She has a cricket
in her hands.

You do?

Can I see? Okay.

Yes. Bed time.

Yes.

Don't go.

Stay with me tonight.
Or I will go with you.

If I don't go home, it'll draw
attention to all of us.

- Mariche.
- Go home, Mother.

I'll see you at sunrise.

They said later,
it should have taken longer

to pack up a whole life.

It was disappointing

to realize that everything
that ever mattered to you

could be gathered up
in a few short hours.

We would leave
only traces of ourselves.

Go. Go.

Psst. August!

Come sit with me.

Here's the map.

Where are we?

Here.

Here?

Mm-hmm.

This is where we are.

This is north, south,
east, and west.

But the map moves.

How do you know
which way it should be facing?

Celestial navigation.

I can show you.

Do you know
of the Southern Cross?

Mm-hmm.

You and the women

can use the Southern Cross
to navigate.

If you, um,

make your right hand
into a fist...

Align the first knuckle
with the axis of the Cross.

And then the tip
of your thumb here

will indicate south.

Will you show the others?

We will have
a lesson in navigation.

Did you already know
about this little trick?

Of course, I did.

I wish there was something
I could teach you

that you didn't already know.

What will become of you
when we leave?

You make a fist
with your right hand.

And point your two knuckles
to the Southern Cross.

It's called
celestial navigation.

Point these two knuckles.

Like that?

Mm-hmm.

And wherever your thumb
is pointing that's south.

We like to put
frames around things.

Even when they
are spilling out the edges.

So, we gathered
one last time in the hayloft,

where so much had been said.

So much that your grandmother
would have told you,

had you ever met.

Is he gone?

He's sleeping.

Dead to the world.

He was very drunk.

And he caught me

sneaking back
into the house late,

and then he went to the barn

and found we had
taken the horses.

Mariche, did you
tell him what we are planning?

She did. But only because
he wouldn't stop hitting me

and she was trying
to distract him.

I don't think
he believed me.

And even if he did,
I don't think he'll remember.

He'll be passed out
all morning I'm sure.

But I also told him because
I suddenly felt very...

We have decided
that we want...

That we are...

We are entitled
to three things.

What are they?

We want our children
to be safe.

We want...

We want to be steadfast
in our faith.

And we want to think.

Yes.

Praise God.

Yeah. We all want that.

♪ Nearer, my God, to Thee ♪

- ♪ Nearer to Thee ♪
- ♪ To Thee ♪

♪ E'en though it be a cross ♪

♪ That raiseth me ♪

♪ Still all my song shall be ♪

♪ Nearer, my God, to Thee ♪

♪ Nearer to Thee ♪

♪ Though like the wanderer ♪

♪ The sun gone down ♪

♪ Darkness be over me ♪

♪ My rest a stone ♪

♪ Yet in my dreams I'd be ♪

♪ Nearer, my God, to Thee ♪

♪ Nearer to Thee ♪

♪ There let the way appear ♪

♪ Steps unto heav'n ♪

♪ All that thou sendest me ♪

♪ In mercy giv'n ♪

Let's go.

I saw your brother.

Careful! We're gonna get you.

Help me, I'm tied up.

Where are they?

Look there.

♪ Nearer to Thee ♪

♪ Nearer, my God, to Thee ♪

♪ Nearer to Thee ♪

Just...

August, you can speak
whenever you want.

You don't have
to raise your hand.

I...

It's all right.

It wasn't important.

Oh.

Are the children
clean and ready?

Thank you, Melvin.

Thank you for saying my name.

We hid Ruth and Cheryl
for you.

They are ready to go.

Really?

Well, oh, my girls.

Has Aaron readied
the horses for us?

What? Well, where is he?

Where is he?

- No.
- Speak to me.

- You're safe, Melvin.
- Please, speak to me.

No, no, no. I won't harm you.
I'm not your enemy!

You have to be calm, Salome.

- No!
- Aaron will be found.

I'm not leaving without him.

Salome, come back!

What if she
doesn't convince him?

Mother?

Breathe.

Breathe.

We are going to go now.

I'm all right. Please go.

Come on, let's go.

Now?

Yes.

Make a list, August.

A list of what?

Of good things.

Of plans, of memories.

Whatever you feel
goes into a good list.

What we, the women
will want there.

Please write it down.

August.

Thank you for all you've done.

We are all so proud of you.

And your mother
would be proud too.

I'll make a list.

This is going
to be a difficult trip.

Today is the day
the Lord hath made.

Rejoice...

and be glad in it.

Go join the others.

Please.

I will not be buried
in this colony.

Get me into a buggy now
and let me die on the trail.

But what about August?

Oh!

He'll be fine.

He'll be fine.

Hang on with both hands.

Ona!

I will always love you.

She loves you too, August.

She loves everyone.

Sun.

Stars.

Pails.

The harvest.

Numbers.

Window.

Straw.

Sounds.

Beams.

Love.

All right. We'll go.

Language.

Wind.

Women.

Salome?

We may need
to protect ourselves.

Where is Aaron?

He's in the buggy, waiting.

You convinced him to leave?

You may need this.

For protection.

Did you?

- Did you have...?
- Yes!

He's coming with me.
He's my child.

Goodbye, August.

Good luck.

Please take care
of Ona and her baby.

Of course. I promise.

Wait. I need
to give you something.

No! I have to go!

Here.

Why have you
got a gun, August?

Don't kill yourself, August.

You have important work to do.

You are the boys' teacher.

Don't come back.

Don't ever come back.
Any of you.

Oh, wait. I need...

No.

Please.

Please, Salome,
give these to Ona.

But, no...
But she can't read them.

Her child will read them.

No, August.

The purpose was for you
to take the minutes.

We'll meet again.

We'll meet again.

Girls, now,
those can go in the back.

That's fine.

We have
more room back here.

No, but thank you.

Do you have
any more room?

We have room
for one more.

Or two little ones.

She can sit
on my lap.

It's sturdy now.

Come with me.
Follow me.

It's all right,
sisters. It's all right.

Up, up.
There you go.

Hold the baby
for now.

You'll be riding
with your brother.

I need a little
more rope to tie this down.

I have some here.

Are we all in?

All right.

So happy. Come on.

Come on. Here.

Shh, shh, shh.

Your story will be
different from ours.