Crone Stone Soup

Have you heard the story of Stone Soup? This is the tale as my Irish granny told me and it was, she swore, the very same one that her granny told her……

A long time ago but not that far away there was a famine in Ireland. Even the dependable potatoes had rotted in the fields and remnants of families were moving to the New World across the great cold Atlantic.

In those days there were many tramps on the roads looking for small jobs or a place to shelter from the damp. On the day of the stone soup a group of stragglers had arrived during the night and set up camp in the commons.

The women went scrounging for supplies while the men tried to find work. "No" was the only reply they heard through the long day. By late afternoon the young children were crying and the older ones were looking quite desperate.

The matriarch pulled out her cast iron kettle, filled it halfway with fresh water and put it on the campfire to heat. When the water was simmering she added a smooth stone and announced in a loud voice "Our delicious stone soup will be ready in just a bit and if there's enough we'll share with all".

Then going back around to the village doors she asked again if they had any small bits to add to the pot. One woman gave her a few carrots, another donated a handful of herbs and so it went. With all the meager contributions by sunset there was a delicious thick soup that was shared by all with some leftovers for the three town dogs.

As women together we can do so much more than any one alone

We can stitch a quilt of many colours; feed a crowd with soup made with a stone

We can share our stories, snort raucous laughter, plan outrageous schemes

Then celebrate when one succeeds beyond our wildest dreams