Saint George and the Second Graders

Writer Sally Slattery reads her favorite children’s book to second graders at Gibraltar Elementary School. Photo by Len Villano.

Mrs. Olson’s second graders shuffle in the Gibraltar Elementary Library with little grins, studying me as I prop up short chapter books and picture books on a table – King Arthur and his Knights, Robin Hood, The Spiderwick Chronicles – books relevant to the worn book in my hand. I’m nervous. They are not.

The students perch around the nook where I sit as Friends of Gibraltar Coordinator Vinni Chomeau introduces me. I smile and inhale to speak. “What is that?” asks a boy in a Packers jersey, pointing at my ring. “It’s a Shilling,” I tell him. “My friend made it. It’s a coin from England. I lived there in a castle when I was in college.” Their eyes widen. “I love England and I love their fairytales. The book I chose is set in England.” ‘Perfect introduction,’ I think.

“I know you, I know you!” says a brown-eyed boy. “You work where Madeline works.” “I do,” I reply.

“And she works at the Cornerstone,” says a girl with wild blonde curls. “I do,” I say.

“Do you know Sylvia?” asks a girl missing a front tooth. “I do,” I answer. We drift a bit off topic, but finally I crack open my favorite book as a child, the book that had my attention and intrigued my imagination before I could string a sentence together: Saint George and the Dragon by Margaret Hodges, featuring captivating illustrations by Trina Schart Hyman. The story is a simple adaptation of Edmund Spenser’s Faerie Queen, an epic, allegorical poem penned during the reign of Queen Elizabeth I.

I read the tale of a sorrowful princess leading a brave knight, who would one day be known as the patron saint of England, to her parent’s kingdom to defeat a terrible dragon who is laying waste to the land. A few wounds, magic trees, and wise words from a wise man later, the knight kills the dragon and marries the beautiful princess.

I read the last line of the story, “Off he road on brave adventures, until at last he earned his name, Saint George of Merry England.” I imagine my epic reading will lead to a discussion about Queen Elizabeth I, thought to be the last descendent of King Arthur. We could touch on that and then discuss the Renaissance Period, the Bubonic Plague, William Shakespeare. I could teach them so much!

“Did you know that George is Jorge in Spanish?” asks a black-haired boy in his best Spanish accent as he rises from his seat. “I didn’t.” The rest of the students rise, surround me, grab the books I’ve propped up on the table. They take turns talking to me: “My friend’s grandma is Sylvia.” “I have boots like yours.” “My mom was in the newspaper.”

Maybe someone else will teach them the historical and cultural significance of The Golden Age.

Bottom line, reading is an experience. I love reading. I love diving into different worlds. Reading to children is a different experience entirely, a shared experience that brings with it crazy, funny, and intelligent discourse. It’s rewarding – for them, for you.

Also rewarding – spotting a little girl sitting beside a book shelf, flipping through the library’s copy of Saint George and the Dragon, wondering what’s taking place in her imagination and where it might one day lead her.