Stone Soup Story

Someone shared with me this story and I cannot get it off my mind and my heart. I love the lessons and I think it is so real especially for where we are as a country.

Once upon a time, somewhere in post-war Eastern Europe, there was a great famine in which people jealously hoarded whatever food they could find, hiding it even from their friends and neighbours.

Three soldiers trudged down a road in a strange country. They were on their way home from the wars. Besides being tired, they were hungry. In fact, they had eaten nothing for two days.

"How I would like a good dinner tonight," said the first. "And a bed to sleep in," added the second. "But that is impossible," said the third.

On they marched, until suddenly, ahead of them, they saw the lights of a village. "Maybe we'll find a bite to eat and a bed to sleep in," they thought.

Now the peasants of the place feared strangers. When they heard that three soldiers were coming down the road, they talked among themselves. "Here come three soldiers," they said. "Soldiers are always hungry. But we have so little for ourselves." And they hurried to hide their food. They hid the barley in haylofts, carrots under quilts, and buckets of milk down the wells. They hid all they had to eat. Then they waited.

The soldiers stopped at the first house. "Good evening to you," they said. "Could you spare a bit of food for three hungry soldiers?" "We have no food for ourselves," the residents lied. "It has been a poor harvest."

The soldiers went to the next house. "Could you spare a bit of food?" they asked. "And do you have a corner where we could sleep for the night?" "Oh, no," the man said. "We gave all we could spare to the soldiers who came before you." "And our beds are full," lied the woman.

At each house, the response was the same -- no one had food or a place for the soldiers to stay. The peasants had very good reasons, like feeding the sick and children. The villagers stood in the street and sighed. They looked as hungry as they could.

The soldiers talked together. The first soldier called out, "Good people! We are three hungry soldiers in a strange land. We have asked you for food and you have no food. Well, we will have to make stone soup." The peasants stared.

The soldiers asked for a big iron pot, water to fill it, and a fire to heat it. "And now, if you please, three round smooth stones." The soldiers dropped the stones into the pot.

"Any soup needs salt and pepper," the first soldier said, so children ran to fetch salt and pepper.

"Stones make good soup, but carrots would make it so much better," the second soldier added. One woman said, "Why, I think I have a carrot or two!" She ran to get the carrots.

"A good stone soup should have some cabbage, but no use asking for what we don't have!" said the third soldier. Another woman said, "I think I can probably find some cabbage," and off she scurried.

"If only we had a bit of beef and some potatoes, this soup would be fit for a rich man's table." The peasants thought it over, then ran to fetch what they had hidden in their cellars. A rich man's soup, and all from a few stones! It seemed like magic!

The soldiers said, "If only we had a bit of barley and some milk, this soup would be fit for a king!" And so the peasants managed to retrieve some barley and milk.

"The soup is ready," said the cooks, "and all will taste it, but first we need to set the tables." Tables and torches were set up in the square, and all sat down to eat. Some of the peasants said, "Such a great soup would be better with bread and cider," so they brought forth the last two items and the banquet was enjoyed by all.

Never had there been such a feast. Never had the peasants tasted such delicious soup, and all made from stones! They ate and drank and danced well into the night.

The soldiers asked again if there was a loft where they might sleep for the night. "Oh, no!" said the town folk. "You wise men must have the best beds in the village!" So one soldier spent the night in the priest's house, one in the baker's house, and one in the mayor's house.

In the morning, the villagers gathered to say goodbye. "Many thanks to you," the people said, "for we shall never go hungry now that you have taught us how to make soup from stones!"

The moral of the story is that by working together and everyone contributing just a little, a greater good is achieved.


You may be in a situation where you see what needs to be done but we are all looking at our limited resources. Everyone will guard their own resources.

It is time to bring out the stones because it is only by sharing that we may make a feast

So go on, start making your stone soup today!

Blessings y'all!

Just Call Me Gullible

I am a sucker for sob stories. I have listened to them by the truckload. I have cried over some of these stories. I have gone into my pocket and given. There have been times I have stood in front of the mirror looking for the badge on my forehead that says “sucker”!'

I particularly remember one day in early January, 2008 calm was just returning in the streets of Nairobi after the post election chaos. I was going to the salon to have my hair done when I met this old man who gave me the story of how together with his family they had lost everything in the clashes in Eldoret. He was living in Jamhuri Park with a large family and a new born grandchild. The grandchild bit did it for me. Right there and then I decided my beauty treatment could use some trimming. I gave him some money. The life of a child was at stake!

A couple of months later, I met this guy again. This time his story was that he had travelled from upcountry to see his son but upon arrival to the young man’s office, he was told the guy had travelled and now he had nowhere to go. He had used the little man he had coming to Nairobi and now he had no money to go back home nor did he have a place to spend the night.

Did I ever mention I have the memory of an elephant? May be even the body size of one but hey, my size is not today’s topic!

I asked him if they had moved out of Jamhuri Park. He looked at me puzzled. I reminded him that in January he had lied to me he was an internally displaced person. Then again, he really was an IDP, intentionally dodgy person.

As I stood there looking at him, I was not angry. That was surprising for me. I expected to be angry but I was not! Was I losing my ability to lose it?

Instead, I felt sorry for the guy.

Then I remembered a commitment I made sometime back.I had purposed a couple of years before to listen to all sob stories.

Growing up in Nairobi, street families were a common sight. Large crowds of parking boys were a scary norm. It was common to pass by and given them some coins to buy something. Sometimes to even buy them bread and milk when I felt sufficiently philanthropic. Fast forward many years later and there was a time when hawkers and street families had taken over the alleys in town. One evening as I was coming from work, my watch was snatched, ok more like ripped off my wrist and as I absorbed the shock, I resigned myself to being a statistic of Nairoberry and at the same time thanked God that I still had my bag. The next day, as I was walking home, some guy calls me by my nickname. Now, that is a name only known by guys who grew up in my neighborhood. He told me that he was sure I could not remember him but he was among the parking boys that I had bought for milk and bread in years past. He was now all grown up and was hawker, he even had a stall in town. His name was Zakayo. He had witnessed the snatching of my watch the previous day and he was here to return my watch. So much about hawkers and street families not having boundaries.

It was one of the few times in my life I was left speechless!

So you see, I will continue listening to sob stories. Of course there are those times that I can tell when am being conned. When a story sounds kinda familiar. When I can poke holes in a story. When there is something wrong with the picture.

I decided that yes, I may be conned but what if that one person was genuine? What if their story was real?

I have learnt to decide that if they have conned me out of some coins then that is between them and their god. Between me and my God, I will do what I am convicted to do.

I can openly confirm that people have been very gracious to me in so many ways. People have held my hand. People have given to me in kind and otherwise. Strangers have given to me. Strangers have been used by God to light my path.

It befalls me to light the path for someone.

If someone has ever done anything for you, do something for someone, a stranger or a friend without any intention of collecting on your “investment”.

Human beings were not created to be self-sufficient. We will always need each other. God uses people to bless others.

Nothing you do will be in vain. Do not be jaded by all the fraudsters out there.

I have chosen not to harden my heart.

Forget the skeptics.

Ignore the cynics.

They must not win.

Blessings y’all!