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Stone Soup
Once upon a time, a hungry traveler arrived in a little village in the hopes that someone might give him some food.
He asked each villager in turn if they could spare a small meal, but they all said they could not. The village was once a friendly place, with people gathering in the town square to share in food and festivities. But difficult times had descended on the village since they suffered a famine the year before.
The situation was just beginning to improve for the villagers, but most families still only had enough food for themselves ― certainly not a spare meal for some suspicious traveler.
“In that case,” said the traveler upon hearing of the villagers’ hardship, “I have a wonderful idea. I’ll make stone soup for everyone.”
“Stone soup? What is that?” asked one curious villager.
“It’s a special soup that is very hearty,” said the traveler. Then he began making a fire at an abandoned fire pit near the town square.
An old maid in the town volunteered her pot, because she did not have any food to give. The traveler accepted it gratefully and filled it with water from the well. Then the traveler picked up an ordinary stone off the path in front of him and plopped it into the pot.
Soon, the water began to boil. The traveler sniffed the rising steam. “Where I come from,” he said, “we add carrots to our stone soup for flavor. But never mind, we shall have to do without.”
Another villager spoke up. “Actually, I grow and sell carrots myself, they fetch me a good price, but I have some oddly shaped ones at home that I couldn’t sell this week. Maybe you could use them.” The traveler accepted them with thanks and added them to the pot.
“This soup is really starting to smell good,” he said. “However, it could benefit from a nice bit of chicken, perhaps…”
“Well, if it’s chicken you need, let me be of service,” offered the village scribe, not wanting to be outdone by his fellow villagers. “In exchange for my writing his speeches, I receive a gift of a chicken a month from the mayor.”
As the inviting flavor of the soup began to waft through the tiny village, the same villagers who had denied the traveler a meal when he asked began to creep back out of their houses, curious about what this young man was cooking.
The traveler, aware that his audience was growing, mentioned in his usual way: “This stone soup sure is coming along nicely! It’s just such a shame there aren’t any onions or mushrooms to really bring out the stone’s natural flavor. Oh well, nothing can be done, I suppose!”
“Onions? I’ve got onions, too many! All I have are onions! You are welcome to use some of those for your stone soup,” said an elderly woman with crooked teeth and foul breath.
Another villager, a young widow, spoke up: “I do have some mushrooms actually. Let me get them from my garden”, she said.
And it continued this way, with each of the villagers bringing something new and exciting to add to the pot. Something which, on its own was nothing much.
Finally, they crowded around the traveler. “Is it ready yet?” they asked. “Almost,” replied the traveler, “but what I really need is someone to let everyone in the village know that this delicious stone soup is ready to eat.”
“Step aside!” boomed the town crier. “Here ye, here ye, I do proclaim that on this auspicious day we villagers shall all enjoy a new delicacy, Stone Soup!”
There was soup enough to feed the entire village. Everyone agreed that it was the best thing they had ever eaten and they praised the mighty stone and the wizard traveler who had brought forth such magnificent taste from it.
After finishing his bowl, the traveler smiled and plucked the well-boiled stone from the bottom of the empty pot. Tucking it into his pocket he went on his way, leaving the villagers to share the hearty meal they had all helped to make by sharing what little they had.
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