— DON’T TOUCH HIM! He’s breathing! He’s alive! Why don’t you hear it?!

Everyone froze. Relatives tried to calm her, saying it was shock, that the child was imagining things.

But when two men tried to lift her out, she kept repeating the same words, choking on her sobs:

— He’s warm! He’s breathing! Please, check! He’s not dead!

Her crying grew more desperate. Then one of the funeral workers, a strong grown man, looked at the face of the “deceased” and suddenly turned pale.

— Wait… — he whispered. — Stop. He… he isn’t cold.

The priest approached, leaned over the body, and placed two fingers on the man’s neck.

— There’s… a pulse… — he said barely audibly. — Weak, but there.

The church erupted in screams. Some ran to get doctors, others began to cry, others prayed.

And the girl just held her father’s chest even tighter and whispered:

— I told you… I knew it… you would never leave me.