When I was a child, my Norwegian mother shared with me a folk tale that her mother had told her when she was a child.  This is the TALE OF THE STONE SOUP.

There once was a vagabond traveling along a forest path who came upon a small village in a valley nestled against tall cliffs. It appeared to him that this village was located at the end of the pathway and the only way in and out. A signpost at the entrance to the village read:
EVERY MAN FOR HIMSELF. Being tired and hungry, and despite the unwelcoming sign, he thought perhaps he could yet find food and shelter in the village.

At the first house he came to there was no one about so he ventured to knock on the door. After some time the door opened a bit, just enough for the resident to peer out with one eye, hiding the rest of her face and blocking any view of the interior. Asking if there any food or shelter available to him, the only thing he received was a curt rebuke: “We have no food for ourselves and no room for another.”  This was pretty much the same response from each of the other houses he tried.  He surmised that no strangers came to the village, just passing through. The only outsiders came to take something such as food, rent or taxes.

Finding himself alone in the deserted village square he called out to the villagers whom he knew were peeping out of closed windows and through cracks in bolted doors. “I see that you have no food in this village, so I offer to feed you all, for free. I have a magic stone that will make soup, from nothing.” Slowly, a few villagers came out and soon he was surrounded by a curious yet skeptical gathering. One village elder asked “How can you possibly make soup from nothing but a stone?”  The vagabond smiled slightly and said “I require only some water in an iron pot,  over a small  fire. If you bring those things to me in this village square, I will work the magic and make stone soup.” The crowd murmured amongst themselves.

It didn’t take long for one of the men to bring out a pot.  A woman brought a bucket of water drawn from the village well. Several children went to the nearby woods and came back with bundles of small dry branches.  Another man built a small fire under the pot of water and soon, steam was rising from the boiling water. In a great show of conjuring, the vagabond untied a small leather bag from his belt and removed a smooth clean stone. He held it up in the air for everyone to see before he ceremoniously placed the stone into the soon-to-be-soup pot. The crowd gasped in anticipation.

In due time, the vagabond took a long wooden spoon from a deep pocket in this coat, gave the pot a stir, dipped out some of the hot liquid and gave it a taste. “ Ah yes, now we are getting somewhere. It could however, benefit from a pinch of salt. Is there anyone here who could spare such a trifle to improve the taste of your stone soup?” The crowd was silent. Eyes going from one to another. Hesitant. Finally a voice from the back: “Yes. I have a little salt in my pantry that could be spared, to improve the taste of our stone soup. More murmurings in the crowd, but this time, sounds of approval. In no time, the required salt was in the hand of the stone soup chef and thence into the pot.

Another stir of the pot and a taste from the spoon:  “Ah yes. That definitely made your soup better. But something is lacking that would help bring your soup up to what you are expecting, after all your hard work so fat. Does anyone have a few, poor carrots that we could add, to give your soup a little cheerful color?”  Yes, there were a few unused carrots found in the back of someone’s root cellar and put into the stone soup. With each addition, another suggested improvement was made and soon previously unknown cabbages and potatoes found their way in to the pot.

Soon the magic vagabond chef declared that the stone soup was ready. “Could someone bring out a few tables and chairs, perhaps some soup bowls and spoons for you all to enjoy your stone soup.

Into the evening, everyone agreed that this was the best soup they had ever tasted and they marveled at how it was all done with nothing but a stone. A soup stone. The vagabond was showered in praise and received thankfulness from each table. He rose from his seat, retrieved the soup stone from the now empty pot and held it up once again for everyone to see and appreciate. “This stone did not make your soup, YOU did. Each of you contributed a little something that you would not miss into a pot for the common good. Those who had no vegetables to give, gave of themselves in drawing water, sharing a cooking pot, gathering wood and building a fire. Each of you contributed what you could and received what was offered to all.”

“Let me suggest that as you all work together to clean up the square and put away the tables, chairs and dinnerware, consider the advantages of cooperation rather that competition. Instead of gathering up food and fine things for your own personal use, consider how to put your talents to work for everyone so that no one goes hungry, cold of unloved.”

“Consider also changing the signpost at your village entrance to read BE KIND.”

The vagabond replaced the soup stone in its bag and moved on.