Stone Soup

It was a cold, gray afternoon when three travelers walked into a small village. They were tired, hungry, and their coats were worn thin. The villagers, seeing strangers approaching, quickly closed their shutters and locked their doors. It had been a hard winter, and they were afraid proper would ask for food.

“Hide the potatoes!” whispered a farmer. “Hide the meat!” said the butcher. “Hide the milk!” said the baker.

By the time the travelers reached the town square, the village looked deserted. They knocked on the first door. “Good evening,” said the first traveler. “Could you spare a little food for three hungry men?” “I have nothing!” a voice shouted from inside. “The harvest was bad. Go away!”

They knocked on another door. “We are very hungry,” said the second traveler. “We are starving ourselves!” lied the villager. “Move along!”

The travelers sighed. They gathered in the middle of the square. “People here are scared,” said the third traveler, who was the cleverest. “We must show them how to share.”

He called out loudly, “Friends! Do not fear! We do not ask for your food. In fact, we want to make a delicious soup for you! All we need is a large pot, some water, and a fire.”

A curious door opened. The villagers brought out a large black pot. They filled it with water from the well and lit a fire underneath. “Now,” said the traveler, pulling a smooth, ordinary-looking round stone from his velvet bag. “Watch closely. This is a Magic Soup Stone. It makes the most wonderful soup in the world.”

He dropped the stone into the boiling water with a plop.

The villagers watched with wide eyes. The traveler sniffed the steam. “Ah,” he said. “It smells delightful. But… it assumes a little bland. If only we had a pinch of salt and pepper, it would be perfect.” “I have some salt!” chirped a little girl. She ran and fetched it.

The traveler tasted it again. “Delicious! The Magic Stone is working. You know, stone soup with cabbage is fit for a King.” “I think I have a cabbage somewhere,” said a woman. She ran to her cellar and brought back a fine head of cabbage. Changes were sliced into the pot.

“Wonderful!” said the second traveler. “But if we had a few carrots, the color would be magnificent.” “I have carrots!” shouted a farmer, forgetting he had hid them.

One by one, the villagers began to contribute. “I have some potatoes!” “I have onions!” “I have some dried beef!” “I have barley!” “I have fresh milk!”

Soon, the pot was bubbling with a thick, rich, aromatic soup. The smell drifted through the entire village. Tables were set up in the square. Someone brought bread, another brought cider.

That night, the whole village feasted. They ate the delicious soup, laughed, danced, and sang songs. They hadn’t shared a meal like this in years. They realized that by giving a little, they all gained a feast.

The next morning, the travelers prepared to leave. The village elder asked, “Will you sell us the magic stone?” The learned traveler smiled and handed the stone to the elder for free. “The magic is not in the stone,” he whispered. “It is in the sharing.”

Moral of the Story: Happiness and abundance grow when we share with others.