Once upon a time there was a village.
It had a lot of green fields
and many many children in a pretty school house
The rains came each year, pouring water down from the beautiful blue-grey clouds, between the silver strands of lightening.
From the water grew the green plants and flowers and fruit and the honey bees buzzed happily in the warm air. Every Saturday the village had a market where the potato farmer sold potatoes
And the green bean farmer sold fresh green beans
And the onion farmer sold round red onions
And the black eye pea farmer sold delicious dried peas
And the children ran around all day
Looking at beautiful flowers and smelling the fresh bread, listening to the moms and dads talking and tea cups clinking.
One year, the moms and dads watched the blue sky – but the rain never came. ‘Perhaps it is a little late’ said Dad. But the rain never came. A small white cloud passed by one day. But the rain never came.
‘Oh my’ said the potato farmer ‘How can I feed my daughter all year’. So he did not take his vegetables to the market.
The bean farmer said ‘I don’t have enough beans to sell’. So he did not take the beans to the market.
The peanut farmer said ‘I need all the peanuts just for my family’. So he did not take the peanuts to the market.
The market was all empty. And the children were sad.
Why are you sad Mom?’ said the little boy. Mom said ‘We will be all right son. The rain will come next year and the fields will be green again’. But Mom and Dad were sad.
The storyteller came walking into the village as he did each year.
But nobody came to welcome him
Mom and Dad pulled the children in into the house and closed the door because they did not want to share their food with him .
‘Why Mommy’ said the girl. ‘Hush Child, said Mom, ‘We don’t have enough to share’. But Mom was sad.
The girl went skipping to the well with Mom. She was happy because her water pot was shiny and bright.
‘Can you give me some water, little girl?’ said the story teller. ‘Yes’ she said. ‘See I am so strong, I can draw the water all by myself’ She poured the water into the Story tellers big black pot.
The boy heard the story tellers flute and peeped out of his door. It was dark and cold outside. The bon fire was blazing bright and the story tellers hat was tall and pointed.
The wood smoke smelt nice and the flute had a happy tune.
The boy and his sister crept out. ‘What are you doing’ they said. I am making soup said he. Hmnn, the water is boiling, all it needs is my magic stone’. ‘Splash’ said the stone and went into the soup pot.
The children sat down to listen to the flute.
The man dipped a big ladle into the pot and tasted the soup. ‘Mnnnn’…Slurp Slurp……Delicious!’ he said. Just needs a few beans to thicken it. It is so good!
‘Can we have some soup?’ said the girl. ‘Why, ofcourse! Said the man. ‘As soon as it is done’. ‘Maybe my Dad will give us some beans said the boy and ran home to ask.
‘OK’ said Dad. ‘Just this once’. I cannot give you more’. And the beans went ‘plunk’ into the water.
The big ladle again went into the water. ‘Mnnnn’…Slurp Slurp……Delicious!’ he said. ‘But I wish I had some salt to make it taste good for you’.
‘Can your Dad give some salt’ asked the boy to his friend. ‘And some carrots as well’ said the stranger. ‘I will ask’ said the friend and ran away.
‘You be careful now’ said Dad ‘We will not have food this winter if you give away what we have’. ‘Swish’ went the salt into the soup. And the carrots followed the salt.
‘What are you all doing here’ said Grandpa. Waiting to eat the soup’ said the children.’It smells soooo good’.
‘Ah! But it will smell even better with some onions and pepper’ said Grandpa. ‘Son, run and get some from Grandma’.
‘But…… Dad!’ said the man, but he went to get some anyway.
So the onions and the pepper, the beans and squash, and the pumpkin and the radish, all went into the soup pot. The sky was dark. The bonfire spluttered bright, the flute had a happy tune
‘Aha’ said the stranger, finally.. Do you all have your soup bowls ready? Call your neighbors. We have plenty for all to share.
‘The magic stone makes a lot of good soup’ said the girl.
Yes- and it makes a lot of friends’ said the man.
And they all had soup. Mnnnn…..
‘But there no magic stones. Stones cant make anything’ said the boy.
‘Hmnnnn’ said the storyteller. ‘Perhaps you are right. But friends who share can make everything.
And ‘Ah..’ “Said the girl ‘’There is nothing as good as a bowl of hot soup’.
The end
