Stone Soup

In a time long ago, on a cold February night, an elderly man enters a dark and silent village. All he wants is a warm place to lay his head down and rest his weary, cold bones. He glances around the courtyard and decides he will have to settle for a dry place out of the wind. He sees a lean-to in the center of the courtyard and staggers over. He pulls his knapsack off his tired shoulders and it hits the ground with a thud. He sits and rummages through his bag and pulls out his tattered old blanket, shakes it, and pulls it up to his chin. Settling back against the lean-to, he slowly drifts off into a restless sleep.

Dawn breaks to a gray sky filled with clouds. Shivering under his blanket, the old man opens his eyes.

“I might as well get up,” he says to himself, “It’s not getting any warmer laying here.”

After shaking out his blanket, he rolls it up and stuffs it into his pack. He can feel the eyes on his back as he straightens up and looks around. The village square is empty, not a soul around. The shacks that make up the villager’s homes look dark and silent. Tattered curtains cover dirty windows. Only a few of the dwellings have a small wisp of light gray smoke wafting from their chimneys.

He scans the village square. In the center is the community’s water well and a fire pit. A few scraps of wood lay stacked next to the fire pit with an old black cauldron hung above it.

He stashes his pack and wanders over to the fire pit. He examines the huge black cauldron and afterwards shuffles over to the water well. He peers into the well, satisfied that there is plenty of water and then glances around the courtyard. Curtains sway gentle back and forth in some of the dirty windows.

“What this place needs is a steaming hot pot of stone soup,” he says aloud.

He returns to the fire pit and gathers up small pieces of kindling, dried leaves, and grass. After a bit, he has a fire going in the pit. He takes the cauldron over to the well, draws water, and washes it out. He returns to the fire pit and hangs the cauldron over the pit and proceeds to fill the pot with water. He takes three egg size stones from his pack and places them into the pot. After awhile he takes a long stick and stirs the pot. He removes a wooden spoon from his pack and dips it into the pot and takes a taste.

He licks his lips and says aloud, “Umm, this is good.”

Shortly, a young man emerges from his home and wanders out to the fire pit.

“What are you doing out here old man?” he asks.

“Ah, good day to you young man,” the old man says, “I am making a huge pot of stone soup. It’s the best soup in the world. It will warm your heart and your cold, tired bones. You are welcome to join me when it’s done.”

The young man peers into the pot, seeing only water and stones says, “It doesn’t look like much, how does it taste?”

The old man dips his spoon into the pot and takes another taste and replies, “It’s good, but you know, it needs something. I’m not sure, what do you think? Give it a taste.”

The young man takes the spoon and dips it into the pot. He takes a sip and says, “Well, it doesn’t have much flavor. You’re right it needs something,” he thinks for a minute, and then adds, “I know, I have a soup bone I’ve been saving, I’ll go get it and we can add it to the soup!”

“Excellent!” replies the old man.

The young man returns with the soup bone and they add it to the simmering pot. After a bit the young man stirs the pot and takes another taste.

“How is it now?” asks the old man.

“Much better,” replies the young man, “But it still needs something more.”

The two men watch as an old woman emerges from her house and hobbles over to them.

“What are you two doing? “You are causing quite a commotion out here!” She exclaims.

“Ahh, widow Reed, good day to you. We are making a pot of stone soup. You are welcome to join us when it is done,” answered the young man, “But we have decided it still needs something.”

“I’ll be the judge of that,” she insists as she snatches the spoon from the young mans hand.

She dips the spoon in the pot and takes a sip.

“It needs salt and some spices. I have exactly what we need at home. I will get them and return,” she states.

While the widow was adding her spices and salt a young couple and their two small children wander out to the fire pit.

“What’s going on?” asks the man of the couple.

“We’re making stone soup,” replies the widow, “But the soup stills need something more.”

The young couple exchange looks and a nod; then the wife says, “We have some potatoes we have been saving, we could add those to the soup.”

“That would be wonderful,” said the whole group.

The wife returned with her potatoes and added them to the soup. “This is beginning to smell wonderful,” she said as she stirred the pot with the long stick.

Two brothers appeared at the fire pit and asked, “What are you all doing out here?”

“We are making stone soup,” the group replied.

“I think we have some onions and a couple of carrots stashed somewhere,” said one of the brothers. “I will go and get them,” said the other.

More and more villagers ventured out of their homes and made their way out to the courtyard to find out what was going on. After asking, they where informed, “We are making stone soup. If you have anything to add, bring it.”

Loafs of bread and more vegetables appeared and were added to the soup; even a fresh hunted rabbit made it’s way into the pot.

Someone brought out a rickety old table and set it up. Bowls and spoons were placed on the table. Someone built another fire.

Many of the villagers pulled up logs or brought out chairs from their homes and sat by the fire. Others milled around tending to the soup. The rest of them sat at the fire and warmed themselves, laughed, and told stories.

Finally, someone announced, “The soup is ready.” Steaming bowls of soup were served to everyone. For the first time in weeks, the villagers had full bellies and warm bodies.