Long ago in Europe, just after the Thirty Years War came to an end, two weary soldiers were making their long journey home. They had been given a three days supply when the army disbanded. Home was at least three weeks away. For the past two days, they had managed to stretch out the last piece of dry bread, but now that was gone.

They had asked people in the villages they passed to give them something to eat, to no avail. The countryside had been scarred by the years of fighting, and times were hard. For years, the villages had been ransacked by one army or the other, and the villagers were not feeling terribly friendly toward soldiers.

After a cold and uncomfortable night's sleep in the fields, the soldiers trudged toward the next village, just visible in the distance.

"Maybe they'll be different," the short soldier said.

"Don't hold your breath," the tall one grumbled. "I think they'd be happy if we starved to death."

"Well," said the first, "I guess we'll just have to make stone soup."

The other rolled his eyes, as if to say, "Great! now you've really lost it."

Meanwhile, the first soldier bent down and carefully selected two roundish dark grey stones, just the size to fit in the palm of the hand. "Just wait till tonight, and you'll see."

By now they were nearer the village, and several children out playing had caught sight of them and run back to warn the others. By the time they arrived, almost everyone had barricaded themselves behind closed doors. Only one old man, who hadn't been able to run as fast as the others, was still hobbling down the street, trying to get home before these outsiders tried to get any of his supplies.

"Good evening, uncle," the short soldier greeted him.

The old man quickly blurted out, "If it's food you're wanting, we don't have any!"

The soldier went on, "We are on a long journey back to our home. It's time to eat, and we're looking for a place to make stone soup for dinner. If you could lend us a big pot, we'd be glad to share it with you and your neighbors."

The old man was so surprised and relieved at hearing that they weren't asking for anything, that he ran and brought a huge pot to the town square, where there was a large open place perfect for cooking.

The villagers, who had been peering out their windows, were curious. When they learned that the soldiers weren't here to take their food, and in fact were planning to share their soup with the village, they gathered around to watch. To tell the truth, they were also a bit skeptical. Just how were those guys going to turn stones into soup?

It took a while for the big pot to come to a boil. Then the short soldier carefully drew the two stones from his pocket. He dusted them both off, and precisely and ostentaciously plunked them into the very center of the pot. Then he stirred and stirred, and after a while sipped judiciously from the spoon. "You know," he said to his friend. "I think this is the tastiest stone soup we've ever made. Though maybe it could use a pinch of pepper."

"I might just possibly have a bit of pepper in the kitchen," one of the villagers said; and he soon ran back with pepper, some salt, and a handful of herbs.

The soldiers took turns stirring and tasting. The tall soldier said, "It's really perfect as is, but remember when we had some onions in it? Wasn't that a great soup!" Another of the villagers said, "If if look real hard, I might be able to find an onion or two," and quickly returned with several in her apron.

After several more tastes, the first soldier mused, "Of course, some of our very best stone soups had carrots, too." And a couple of villagers thought they might just have a carrot or two lying around, and returned with their hands full.

Before long, everyone in the village had contributed something to the pot -- potatoes, leeks, a bit of chicken -- whatever they could come up with.

And before long, the stone soup had turned into one of the richest, most delicious, most nourishing soups anyone around could remember. People stayed for seconds, and continued into the night talking and singing. Even the small children were allowed to stay up late, playing and making joyful noise.

Several times during the evening, one villager was heard saying to another, "You think there's something magic about this soup? We haven't eaten this well or had this much fun since the wars began. Let's remember the recipe!"

Note: There's no copyright on this recipe. Feel free to replicate it, share it, improvise on it, and put it to use whenever you feelhungry.

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