Stone Soup: The Village of Many Words

The Story

Once upon a time, in a land not far from here, there was a country very much like our own. Cities and towns of all sizes were filled with people from many different places. The country had once been great, filled with thriving, active communities developing and sharing new ideas together and living in peace.

However, as their technology became more central to their culture, they spent less and less time outside, and less and less time with each other.

One day, a strange traveler entered one of these small towns, walking casually by himself upon the main road. He was an average-looking man. What was strange was what he carried. Strapped across his shoulders was a massive copper cooking pot that appeared to be filled with various items. None of the townspeople had ever seen a traveler like him before. So strange.

As he walked past home after home, and building after building, he stopped occasionally to look at the interesting things displayed as pictures in the many large windows: photos of beautiful smiling faces, shiny new vehicles, intelligent sayings, happy families, and even funny photos of family pets.

As the stranger reached the center of town, he noticed what must once have been a beautiful park. The park had long since gone unused, with the picnic area and flower beds now filled with weeds, and walking paths overgrown and barely seen.

All the townsfolk, hiding, stared in disbelief as the traveler walked to the middle of the picnic area and began to unfasten the large copper pot from upon his back. Setting it on the ground, he quietly took out a small-looking gas stove, a large wooden spoon, and a big jug of water.

Reaching into one of his pockets, he removed a leather pouch and shook out into the palm of his hand what looked like three smooth, round stones. He looked at them carefully for a little while, turning each one over in his hand, rubbing it softly as if it were precious, and seeming to whisper to himself. Then he gently placed the stones into the bottom of the pot and began to stir them with the wooden spoon.

So strange, in fact, that one of the townsfolk... Mr. Inquisitive (in-KWIZ-ih-tiv)... came out to speak to him. "Excuse me, kind sir," he said. "I'm curious... may I ask what you are doing?" "Certainly," replied the traveler. "I am making stone soup."

The traveler stopped stirring for a moment and took from another pocket a small bottle of pale liquid, along with a small black box. Mr. Inquisitive noticed that one end of the box was marked with the letter S, and the other with the letter P, and inferred that it must be a box with two compartments... one for salt and one for pepper.

The traveler thanked Mr. Inquisitive for holding the bottle, retrieved it, opened it, and poured a small amount over the seasoned stones. The stones sizzled. "That does smell delicious," sighed Mr. Inquisitive. "Yes," agreed the traveler. "These stones make wonderful soup. Though it could be so much better with a bit of minced onion." "Minced onion?" replied Mr. Inquisitive. "I have an onion!" And off he ran toward his home, passing Mrs. Vigilant (VIJ-ih-lunt), who had been watching intently from her window.

As Mrs. Vigilant (VIJ-ih-lunt) approached the traveler, who was stirring the pot, she watched for a few moments and then said, "I notice that you are stirring stones in the bottom of this pot. Will it truly be stone soup?" "Yes," replied the traveler with a smile. "Just wait and see."

At that moment, Mr. Inquisitive returned with a bowl of minced onion. The traveler thanked him and tossed the onions into the pot. Steam rose immediately, and the aroma wafted past their noses. When the onions became nearly transparent, the traveler opened the large jug of water and slowly, carefully poured it into the pot.

At that moment, Mr. Elucidate (ee-LOO-sih-dayt) and Mrs. Succinct (suk-SINKT) joined the group. "Excuse me," began Mr. Elucidate, "but may I ask you to explain... so that I may understand fully and completely... what exactly you are doing here in our town square?" "But please," interrupted Mrs. Succinct, "be brief."

"The soup," continued the traveler, "is already quite good. But I must confess, it would be even better with some turnips and potatoes." Mrs. Vigilant's eyes widened. "I have been keeping watch over my garden, and I have turnips! Fine ones, too." And she hurried off to fetch them. Young Lucid (LOO-sid), who had been listening from nearby, stepped forward. "I understand what you need," he said simply. "Potatoes. I have some at home. I'll return shortly."

Mrs. Succinct nodded. "Carrots next. I have them. Back soon." She was gone and returned in what seemed like moments, carrying a bundle of bright orange carrots. Mr. Elucidate suddenly raised a finger. "If I may... I believe I understand what this soup requires next. Allow me to fetch cabbage from my kitchen."

Grandmother Prudent (PROO-dent) had been watching from her porch, considering carefully whether to join. Finally, she walked over, moving slowly but with purpose. "It would be wise," she said thoughtfully, "to add something green. I have broccoli in my kitchen... I was saving it, but perhaps this is what I was saving it for."

Mr. Tantamount (TAN-tuh-mount) arrived next, carrying a head of cauliflower. He paused at the edge of the gathering, taking in the scene... the steam, the laughter, the unlikely crowd. "Every gift given freely," Mr. Tantamount said quietly, "carries the same weight."

A small giggle came from behind Mrs. Vigilant. Little Miss Facetious (fuh-SEE-shus) peeked out, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "Stone soup?" she said. "I thought stones were for skipping across ponds, not for eating!" She laughed at her own joke. "I have radishes," Little Miss Facetious announced. "They're a bit spicy, like me!"

Young Master Capricious (kuh-PRISH-us) appeared suddenly, as if from nowhere. "I want to help!" he announced. Then, just as quickly: "Actually, I want to watch. No wait... I'll get mushrooms! I love mushrooms! Or do I? Yes, I do! Today I do!"

Miss Ardent (AR-dent) had been watching from her family's porch, her heart swelling with emotion. She could contain herself no longer. "This is beautiful!" she exclaimed as she approached, nearly running. "What you are doing here... all of you... it fills me with such joy!" She handed over her tomatoes with both hands, as if presenting a gift of great importance.

Mrs. Meticulous (meh-TIK-yoo-lus) arrived last among the vegetable-bringers, carrying fresh parsley. She examined the pot carefully. "The soup appears nearly complete," she observed, "but it lacks a finishing touch. Parsley... finely chopped, precisely distributed... will add both color and freshness."

"Nearly?" asked Mr. Inquisitive. "What else could it need?" The traveler stirred the pot thoughtfully. "The soup is wonderful," he said. "Truly wonderful. But if someone happened to have a bit of meat..."

A booming voice rang out across the park. "MEAT? DID SOMEONE SAY MEAT?" Mr. Vociferous (voh-SIF-er-us) strode toward the group, his voice carrying so strongly that birds scattered from nearby trees. "I HAVE MEAT!" he proclaimed. "THE FINEST BEEF YOU HAVE EVER SEEN!"

The traveler accepted the meat with gratitude and added it to the pot. The soup bubbled and simmered, filling the air with the most wonderful aroma any of them had ever smelled. The traveler stepped back and looked at the pot with quiet satisfaction. "The soup is ready."

Before the traveler began to serve, Grandmother Prudent raised her hand. "Wait," she said. "Before we eat, we should give thanks." The crowd grew quiet. Grandmother Prudent bowed her head. "Heavenly Father," she said simply, "we are grateful for this food, for these neighbors, and for the stranger who reminded us what we had forgotten. Amen."

When Mr. Inquisitive tasted his first spoonful, his eyes widened. "This is the most delicious soup I have ever tasted! How is it possible?" "I have been watching carefully," said Mrs. Vigilant, "and I believe the answer is simple. We made it together."

As the evening grew late and the candles burned low, the traveler began to pack his copper pot. "Must you go?" asked Mr. Inquisitive. "There are other towns," the traveler replied gently. "Other people who have forgotten what you remembered tonight."

Mr. Elucidate stepped forward. "Allow me to make clear what I believe you are saying. The wonder was never in the stones." "No," the traveler replied softly. "The stones are ordinary. But each of you... each of you was formed with something particular, something your own. Like threads in a tapestry... when held apart, they seem small. But when woven together, each finding its place, something beautiful appears."

But the story does not quite end there. As the traveler reached the edge of town, where the pavement gave way to dirt and the streetlights no longer reached, he paused. He looked down at the ground. There, beside the road, were dozens of ordinary stones. He bent down and picked up three. They were smooth. They were round. They were perfectly ordinary.

"These," he whispered to himself, tucking them carefully into his leather pouch, "are very special stones from a very special place." And with a small smile, the traveler walked on. Somewhere ahead, another town was waiting.

The wonder was never in the stones. The secret is remembering our uniqueness and individual purpose, created to be woven together in fellowship with God and one another.