Todd Elliot, son of the notorious story teller Doug Elliot, became something of a friend of mine when we were nine years old. Our parents met at a bluegrass festival and immediately found each other’s intellectual conversation quite stimulating. We soon became close friends and summery north carolina adventures came tumbling from all different directions.
One night, above all the rest, reminds me of why I loved the unity I experienced with them.
“Some travelers, tired and weary, come to a small village, carrying nothing more than an empty cooking pot. Upon their arrival, the villagers (hungry themselves) were unwilling to share any of their food stores with these hungry visitors. The travelers, not giving up hope, fill their one pot with water, drop a large stone into it, and place it over a fire in the village square. One of the villagers, a small boy walking home from working in the mines, hungrily glances at the soup and asks what they are making. They tell the young boy that they are in the process of making “stone soup” which tastes wonderful, though could use a little bit of garnish to improve the flavor. The boy does not mind parting with just a little bit of carrot to help them out, so it gets added to the soup. Another villager walks by, inquiring about the pot, and the travelers again mention their stone soup. The villager chips in a small ham bone to help them out. More and more villagers walk by, each adding another ingredient. Finally the villagers all gather about with the travelers to enjoy a delicious pot of hot, nourishing soup.”
Doug told the story with breathtaking perfection; we took turns bringing up our "ingredients" to a large, hollowed pumpkin resting on an open fire. I felt so proud walking up to the pot with Todd and stirring in our lentils; to think that I had contributed a bit of protein!
My initial reaction, when hearing that we would be making "stone soup," was pure disgust. I was a hungry child and this meal did not sound substantial… in fact, I didn't even think it sounded fun.
Stone Soup was much more than a story that night. It affected my view of a community. My idea of what was possible completely changed. I felt powerful. I felt that, with the help of a community, I could accomplish anything.
Today, as american students, we have the option of walking out of class at 2 PM to protest the law passed in wisconsin, banning collective bargaining. I've been going around the school trying to talk to fellow students about why it's important that they walk out of school and participate in something they believe in (if indeed they do believe in it).
If you're reading this and thinking about walking out, PLEASE remember the story of stone soup. People can satiate their hungers (both socially and physically) when they work together.
I read the book stone soup in second grade (though I think it was slightly different) and they happened to include a recipe for stone soup, so of course, I made it and it was pretty delicious, though my parents wouldn't let me put a rock in it :( . Great post and I like how you tied it in to a common humanitarian message.
ReplyDeleteoh! I loved this story when I was little. I have a very vivid image in my mind of a smooth pebble resting at the bottom of a pot of boiling water. It was always categorized in my mind as a whimsical children's tale, but you show how such stories can be very relevant to serious, adult issues. I wish you'd developed the connection between stone soup and locally organized protesting a little more explicitly because I think it is a really interesting ideal. Beautifully written post!
ReplyDeletei'm so sorry that I didn't develop it further...
ReplyDeleteI think, in the future, I will edit it and draw better connections. I was in a rush... actually...
I finished it like a few minutes before class and didn't have time. I just wanted people to see it to be persuaded to bear the consequences and show up; I didn't care if it was perfect.
Otter: They wouldn't let you put a rock in it?? That's terrible...
Also, the story was probably a little different because he told the raw (yet truthful) mountain folk tale version. His grandfather, who was also a storyteller and community leader, told him the "original" story (though anyone would claim that their own tale was the "first").
Thanks Y'all!
Great post! I like how you end by linking the story to the solidarity the walk-out. It seems like an apt analogy. I've heard some people who support Wisconsin Gov. Scott Walker's policy's say that public sector workers shouldn't make more than private sector workers. Even if it's true that they do (which, when you figure in education and other factors, it really isn't), why aren't we asking why private sector workers aren't making more? One of many reasons I think union rights are important is that they help a group of people who have very little power as individuals (scraps of carrot, a hambone) come together to win meaningful gains to their standard of living - higher wages, but also safer working conditions, fairer practices, etc. (a big pot of nourishing soup).
ReplyDeleteGreat post! Interestingly enough, I have heard this story with many variations: stone soup, soup from an axe, shovel soup, etc. It is a great story, and I love how you use it to prove a point!
ReplyDeleteKeep writing great posts! :)