"St George's First Dragon"

P Powrie - Feb 1974

Did you ever think that George, the great Patron Saint of England, was once a little boy? No, of course you didn't, nobody ever does, but its true all the same and this is the story of how he killed his first dragon.

(I'm sure you all know the story of how he slew the dragon that made him famous and was the reason why he was accepted as a Saint and chosen to represent England. Yes, everybody knows that and how gallant he was in rescuing his "Maiden in distress" - and a fair maiden she was at that!)

Well, at the time of this story, George was just a little boy of nine -just like most other little boys of nine - and he loved a game or two of 'make-believe'.

He liked best to play these games of make-believe when he was all by himself because then he could pretend anything and there would be no-one to argue or say "No. Let's rather play another game." or "All right, but I want to be king." etc

So, what he did when he was alone, was to invent a playmate to suit the game and it might be a boy or a girl, a horse, dog or bird - or even a dragon - and sometimes all at once.

Yes, he had a great imagination and was just like other little boys even although he was born less than three hundred years after Jesus Christ and that was a long time ago, nearly one thousand and seven hundred years ago! - and people lived a little differently in those days. No motor cars, aeroplanes, bombs or machine guns or TV but horses and swords instead.

Now, no great man or woman has ever become great unless they had the seeds of greatness in them when they were still children and these seeds often show in the kinds of games they play.

What kind of games do you play? Perhaps they will give you an idea of what kind of person you would like to be when you grow up and what kind of work you would like to do. Would you like to be a doctor, engineer, soldier or perhaps a sailor? Well, little George liked to play at being a sort of soldier, fighting and killing lots of wicked people and dreadful animals. You see, he already had this great goodness and fighting spirit in him and it showed in the games he played.

He liked to escape from the rest of his family, out into the country-side, where he could be alone - and in those days the 'country-side' was just near home because even the big cities were not as big and as closely built as they are today.

It was easy to find an empty glade or copse of trees or even just a place amongst the rocks where he couldn't be seen. There he used to fight his foes and win his battles and one day he slew a dragon. Of course there weren't really such things in those days but nevertheless he'd heard stories of dragons, horrible monsters, all scaly, with long arrow-tipped tails, funny wings, claws and long forked tongues and mouths which often breathed fire!

These dragons were sometimes supposed to be guardians of treasure or of beautiful maidens, but often they were just dreadful monsters to whom lovely young people were sacrificed because the dragon wanted food and if they didn't find it easily, they would get cross, rage in and break and destroy a village, killing and eating as many people as they could catch, but if they found food easily, they would eat it and, being satisfied, would quietly return to their lair and leave the village alone. Because of this, when the look-out cried out that a dragon was coming, some fair young woman would be tied to a stake out in the dragon's path and then everyone else would run away and leave her to be eaten by the hungry, fearsome beast. (They'd never get away with that sort of thing today, would they?)

When young George heard these stories he thought they were horrible. Why should a young girl be eaten? Why didn't a strong man go out and kill the dragon and save the girl and the village? When he grew up he would show them how to do it and right now he would practise just what he would do one day!

So you see, as a child he practised the kind of thing he would do when he grew up, and thought out just what he would do if the dragon did this or the dragon did that - don't we all in our different ways?

But this is the story of how he killed his first dragon, when he hadn't yet learned all the ways of dragons and how they could twist and turn and how, sometimes, when you cut off one head another might grow in its place. (And do you know that this happens all our lives when we fight the 'dragons' of naughtiness within us, all too often when we have overcome and killed one bad habit another seems to rear up its ugly head in the first one's place.)

This day George took his little wooden sword and climbed up onto his imaginary horse and rode away from home into a secluded place - and there he saw a poor, but very beautiful, young lady (she looked something like his favourite aunt) tied to a stake, right in the path of the monster who was, at this moment, just appearing around some boulders at the other side of the clearing. With a roar, the dragon came closer, scaly feet scraping the loose stones in its path and fire breathing out of its nostrils!

He cried "A dragon, a dragon! But don't be afraid, I'll save you. I'll kill that dragon and he'll never eat anyone ever again." and he galloped forward, brandishing his sword. The dragon, seeing him, roared even more fearfully and slapped its large tail on the ground in temper, making the very earth shake with the force of it - and of course the maiden screamed with terror, greater terror now because not only was her life at stake but also her sudden hope of rescue and the life of the fine-looking young man, who was the only person who had ever thought to save her from this dreadful fate.

Oh. What if he couldn't kill the dragon? It would kill him instead and perhaps his horse too, right before her very eyes and then, oh horror of horrors, it would come to her, with blood still dripping off its teeth and claws, to kill her too. At this horrible thought she screamed even louder and struggled with the ropes that bound her to the stake.

George, who had suddenly been feeling just a little afraid, heard her scream above the roaring and hissing of the dragon and felt his courage flow strongly back into his veins - just as many times in later days real young men would brandish their swords and cry "For England and St George." and gallop and gallop fearlessly into the battle, fighting for their Country and its Patron Saint and finding courage in the memory of his great deeds.

Now George galloped forward and gave a great roaring shout himself "You shall not kill the maiden or any other maidens. I am going to kill you, now, with the Grace of God to help me."

Immediately he said these words, he became, as it were, a greater person because he was now magnified by the Grace of God, that unseen power which fills us in our times of great need - but only if we ask for it nicely and only if we are doing something worthy of God's blessing.

The dragon, who had very sharp ears, heard George's shout and even though it did not understand the words he said, it felt the spirit in which they were uttered and do you know it suddenly felt a little afraid! A great big dragon afraid of a young man on a horse. Whoever heard of such a thing? But you see, it wasn't just the man and the horse but that the dragon felt the power of the spirit which sustained them - even as evil is afraid of the spirit of God to this day.

This was what gave George his chance. When the dragon hesitated, George received his opportunity to gallop in an wound the great beast in the neck - then he galloped away again out of reach of those claws. The wound in the dragon's neck began to bleed and you know, when we bleed a lot the strength quickly goes out of us. So now the dragon felt that its feet were a little heavier to lift off the ground in order to chase after George, or even to lift up to strike at him.

And of course its neck, being so painful, it did not feel quite so much like opening its mouth to bite him and George, realising this, felt even greater courage and strength rush into his heart and soul and he turned his horse into the best position to ride in and slash at the dragon again.

Now was the time, the last time, before the dragon had the chance to re-gather its strength and determination. So George, seeing his opening, galloped in again and slashed at the beast's great upraised leg - just avoiding, as if by miracle, the treacherous talons. But now a little voice seemed to whisper in his ear "That's enough. The dragon's beaten. Leave the poor beast, release the maiden and go on your way." Oh my goodness. How dreadful it would have been if he had listened to this voice and left the dragon to survive, get better and live to kill again. But no. He was a wise young man and he cried out "The only good dragon is a dead dragon " - just as the only way to get rid of anything evil in ourselves is to overcome it, and kill it by being and doing good. To replace evil with good.

So George rushed in again at this failing beast, encouraged and sustained by the lovely maiden and kept on at the dragon until it was dead!

Only then did he dismount from his weary horse, wipe a weary arm across his damp forehead. Wipe his sword upon the grassy bank and then, with a clean sword, he went and cut the ropes that bound the maiden.

So in our lives, we fight - or run away from - our dragons. We win - or loose - our battles with the evil that is within our very selves at times. We do evil - or replace evil with good - but whatever we do when we grow up, we will already have done, in our imagination, when we were children.

So prepare yourselves now, while you are yet children for the great and noble deeds and fine people you wish to do and be with when you are grown up.

Choose wisely your heroes and ideals now and you are likely to be, when you grow up, what you choose now. So, go out and kill your first - and second - dragon, just the way St George did.