ONE DAY, many years ago in a far away land,  a lone soldier walked along a dusty country road. He was making his way home from fighting a war in which his country had finally  won independence from an oppressive foreign power.

Although he was very tired and hungry from the long ordeal of war, the soldier was full of hope with the promise of the future; and so he stepped proud and swift as he hurried home. But as the day grew long the wind was cold, the sky was gray; and the soldier was very hungry. He knew there would be a small village just around the bend in the road and already he could see a small farm house in the distance. He made his way to that house and knocked on the door. When a woman opened the door he asked for something to eat. "Nay," the woman quickly replied, "There is not enough even for ourselves." And so the soldier went on.

When he came to the next house he stood shivering and wet from the cold rain and knocked on the door. Again he asked for something to eat. " Nay," once again came the reply, "There is not enough even for ourselves." . . . "Ah, but Have ye a big cooking pot?" queried the soldier. "Yea, of course. We have a big iron pot." "And have ye water?" he asked. "Yea, we have plenty of water."

"Then, my good friend, fill the pot with water and put it on the fire," said the soldier, "We shall eat well tonight, for I have with me a soup stone!"

"A soup stone?" the woman asked, "What is that?" (Her eyes widened.) With this the farmer in the house and three of their children became curious and they cautiously approached the door.

The woman of the house filled the big pot with water and hung it over the fire. Then the soldier took the stone from his pocket (it looked like any smooth stone one might find along a road) and he plunked it into the pot of water.

"Now let's wait for the water to boil," he said. So the family and the soldier all sat down near the warm fire to wait for the water to boil. "Do you suppose you could spare a bit of salt for it?" the soldier said thoughtfully. "Why, of course. What a good idea!" said the woman, and she pulled out the salt box. The soldier took a fistful and threw it in, for it was a very big pot. Then they all sat back again to wait. . .

"You know, . . .A few carrots would taste good in it," said the soldier, as he slowly stroked his chin. "Oh, we have a few carrots," said the woman, and she pulled them out from under a bench, where the soldier had spotted them earlier. So they quickly cleaned the carrots and threw them into the pot. Then, while the carrots boiled, the soldier told great wondrous stories of his adventures and travels.

"We have a few potatoes," said the oldest daughter, "I'll get them." So they quickly put the potatoes in the pot and again sat down by the warm fire and waited for the soup to boil.

By now, while they waited for the water to boil, joyful with anticipation of the fine soup they would soon enjoy, they were cracking jokes and telling tales.

"--why. . . I believe I haven't tasted cabbage since I left my mother's house," the soldier was saying . . .

"Run out in the garden and pull a cabbage," said the mother. And the youngest daughter ran out and came back with a cabbage. They cut it up and they threw it into the pot. "It won't be long now," said the soldier with a broad grin. "Just a little longer," the woman agreed while she stirred the pot with a long ladle.

Suddenly, the door burst open and all turned to see who had entered. It was the eldest son. He had been hunting and brought home two large rabbits!

"Oh my!", cried the soldier, "That is just what we need for the finishing touch!" Within minutes the rabbits were prepared and added to the pot.

"Ah!" said the hungry hunter, "This is the smell of a very fine Soup, indeed!"

"Yes! The traveler has brought a soup stone," the farmer explained excitedly to his son, "and he is making soup with it in the pot and freely sharing it all with us!"

At last the soup was ready, and it was good! There was enough for all: the soldier and the farmer and his wife, their eldest daughter, their eldest son, their Youngest son, and their little daughter.

"This is a wonderful soup," said the farmer.

"Indeed, but it's a most wonderful stone!" said the wife.

"Yes, it is," said the soldier, "and it will make soup forever, provided you follow the formula we used today."

So they finished the soup and everyone was warm and feeling good. Then, when the soldier bade them good-by, he gave the woman the stone to pay back the kindness. . .  Oh, she protested most politely, but the soldier wouldn't hear of it, rather, he insisted that she keep the stone.

"It is truly nothing," the soldier said and went on his way without the stone. . . . Luckily he found another just before he came to the next village.

Now, I have heard from a reliable authority, that this very same soldier with his soup stone has visited nearly every town in northern Europe, across Russia, and in England, and Ireland! He has even made soup in many a small New England village, a number of towns all across Canada, and occasionally one hears of his travels in the American South and out West. And it is rumored that he has been seen in Hawaii and even all the way to Japan!

No matter where it is, the magic of the soup stone NEVER fails to work, provided you follow the formula exactly, although there are some who say that the magic really lies in whose hands the stone comes into contact.