KNIGHTS AND DRAGONS

Once upon a time, as tells the legend, a dragon that was wrecking havoc with its stinky breath in a little village. The villagers desperate by the desolation the beast was bringing them, agree to offer periodically a human sacrifice to the beast so that it stopped bothering them.

It was, as it is supposed to be, a democratic and fair village, so they picked up the victim by draw. It looked like it was working, because the beast leaved them alone for a long while. But it happened that one day, the King’s daughter was chosen for the sacrifice.

Nor the King, who was a fair man, neither the beautiful and brave princess, accepted the proposal from those generous people that offered themselves to take the sacrifice instead of their princess.

When the day arrived, she walked bravely to the mountain where she was supposed to die in the dragon’s jaws. But then, a noble knight with a golden armour, riding a white horse, showed up to rescue the courageous princess.

The knight badly wounded the dragon and he gave it to the princess so that she would take herself the beast to the village and it could die there.

The legend tells that where the dragon’s blood was dropped a beautiful red rosebush flourished.

It’s also said that the grateful King offered his daughter in marriage to the brave knight; but he refused the proposal, giving as an excuse that HE DIDN’T DESERVE HER! And he disappeared forever to go on killing dragons and he was never again seen in that land.

Beautiful as the legend is, that has given to us the not less beautiful tradition of giving roses as a present the day we honour the brave knight St. George, I wonder whether it wouldn’t have been more courageous to stay and do something to deserve the princess, than keep wandering, half-killing dragons that could possibly get back into life in their innocent victims’ hands.

Who needed to be saved, the princess or the knight?

Did St. George save the princess because she wanted to be saved?

Should we wait for the knight with a sparkling armour who kills the dragon and save us, or should we save ourselves from our own demons?

Who might save whom? Men to women? Women to men? Parents to children? Children to parents?

I think that salvation is in the will of being saved. That every day we save one to each other “just a little bit” and we don’t even realize that we’re doing so. Between friends or relatives, men or women, parents or children, acquaintances or strangers... There’s no need of a heroic deed, sometimes just a word is enough, or maybe a little gesture. Nothing marvelous or magnificent, so that it’s necessary to keep our eyes wide opened, and to prick up our ears so we can distinguish all the little miracles that every day take us furthest than we thought we could go, that every day make new roses sprout in our path.

I wonder whether we are all here to save one to each other, to learn to see each other in a different way and to understand that we are mostly full of good purposes, even though sometimes we get wrong. To learn trusting in goodness, at least as much as we mistrust evilness. That every day we can be at the same time the one who saves their fellows and the one who’s being saved. We can raise our goodwill over our disagreements and little fights, learn from our mistakes not blaming ourselves, and go ahead stepping hard enjoying the wonders the way brings us, holding hands with who’s falling, and grabbing tight the hand that’s stretched to us.

Although there’s a requirement: to try hard, if possible, saving people, and be willing, with no suspicion to be saved.