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So they decided to
investigate for themselves, and searched the
whole area thoroughly. In the midst of rocky,
barren ground they came upon a large rectangle
covered with flowering wild plants. They decided
to excavate, and about a foot below the surface
they found a step in the rock; then as they dug
deeper, they unearthed another, and another,
seven steps in all. The deeper they dug, the
more fragrant was the smell in their nostrils.
Then, at last, they stood in awe; on the rock
floor lay the bones of the Saint. One of the men
ran in haste to his village, Eptakomi, whilst
another ran to Komi-Kkebir.
Weve found the bones of the Saint to whom we
owe so many blessings, they cried, as they ran
from house to house, and all the villagers came
out, eager to return with them to the cave.
Two oxen, one from each
village, and the finest in all the herds, were
harnessed to a cart, and the villagers followed
in passion, praying that their village would
have the honour of receiving the Saints bones.
Reverently the chief elders, one from each
village, wrapped the bones in a white cloth
woven from fine wool, and placed the sacred
relic gently in the cart. A triumphal procession
moved slowly on its way. There were whispers in
the crowd. Where will the cart stop?.. That
will be as the Saint chooses We must do his
will Wherever the cart stops, he will not be
very far from the other village We are close
now to Eptakomi Will the cart stop?... The excitement grew; then there was a gentle
murmur of disappointment as the oxen plodded on
past the last house in Eptakomi. Still all the
people followed, wondering if the Saint did not
wish his bones to rest in either village.
Perhaps they were not worthy of his grace. But,
to their joy, the cart with its precious burden
came to a halt as it approached Komi-Kebir. A
mysterious voice murmured, Komi, Komi, and the
crowed heard, and knew the Saint had spoken, and
wished his bones to rest in that spot. The
bones, with the skull encased in silver, stayed
in the church of St. George in Komi Kkebir until
a new church outside the village could be built
to house them. It was designed by an eminent
architect, with a spacious piazza were pilgrims
to the shrine could rest and eat and drink after
their journey. It became the custom, on the
Saints Feast-Day, September 28th, for great
crowds from all parts of the Island to flock to
the church for the Liturgy and afterwards to
make merry in the piazza, were a market and fair
and feasting with family and friends brought
colour and joyful music and dancing into this
centre of worship. And within the church, with
its hundreds of candles lit in his honour, the
silver casing of the hermits skull gleamed, and
his blessing was poured out on the faithful,
even as the miraculous fragrance had been
emitted from the flowers, during his lifetime,
for refreshment and healing.
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