Cameo’s cauldron … in which Cameo Miller stirs her thoughts and ideas to see what rises to the top.
cauldron over the hearth fire, asked the
change, the many stresses of the past
children to bring buckets of water to fill it
year, or just the cold of winter (here in the
up, and to bring any found wood to build
northern hemisphere—or the heat of sum-
up the fire. She also then went outside and
mer in the southern one), so many people
picked up a large, hand-sized rock which
feel helpless and hopeless because we feel
she carefully scrubbed clean and put into
so small against such great misfortune.
the bottom of the pot.
And we are. But if we all come together, and each add our little bit, great change
“What are you doing” inquired the house-
can occur.
wife. “Making stone soup” replied the old woman. “You told me you do not have
We can add our bit to “the soup” in two
enough food to share, or even enough for
venues—our personal “bubble” and our
your family. I may be able to help us all.” She asked the children, who had all returned with the water and the wood to invite the neighbors in to hear the story too. As they arrived, the old woman showed them the huge pot of water with the stone in the bottom, and invited them to hear her tell them a story. Soon the house was full of cold, hungry people huddled near the hearth, or sitting on the floor, or lean-
STONE SOUP By Cameo Miller Illustration by Bethany Caskey
ing against a wall. As the old woman began her story, the housewife, feeling pressed to show she was not destitute, found a couple of shriveled potatoes that she cut into little pieces and put into the cauldron. To be told correctly, this story is long, but the point is that, as the old woman continues to tell her tale, other people remember a couple of carrots or an onion still in the ground, some people contribute a
“
Let there be an opening into the quiet that lies beneath the chaos, where you find the peace you did not think possible and see what shimmers within the storm. – John O’Donohue
”
I’d like to tell you a story. It’s about an old
handful of rice or barley or beans, or an-
woman who walked into a poor village one
other potato, or some wizened peas. The
cold winter day. She stopped at a house
old woman nods and smiles at each person
near the center of the village, knocked on
as they contribute their gift to her story
the door, and asked if they had any tiny
telling. By the time she has finished her
profession. With those closest to us, we
bit of food to give her. “I’m sorry” said the
long tale, there is a huge cauldron of soup
need to remember to give hugs and re-
housewife. “We do not even have enough to
that is enough to feed them all and the old
mind them that we can get through this
feed ourselves because of all the troubles
woman too.
together. Call friends on the phone or
over this cold time.” “I understand” replied
FaceTime video chats to let them know the
the old woman. “But perhaps I could share
The moral of the story is, of course, that
same. Air hugs and kisses may not be the
a story with you and things might improve
each of us may not have enough or be
same as the close contact of the real thing,
for all of us.” “You are welcome to come in,
enough by ourselves to survive truly hard
but the implied connection will be felt just
warm yourself by the fire and share your
times. But if we all come together, and
the same. And it is adding your bit to the
story” said the housewife, “but I do not see
each contribute a little bit, it will add up
comfort, unity, and caring among those
how that will help.” “You will see” replied
and will be more than enough. This is what
closest to you. In our profession, we are
the old woman. She entered the house,
needs to happen now, during our current
very much needed to play a critical role. As
directed the housewife to put her biggest
hard times. Whether it is covid, climate
I wrote in previous articles, things will not
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Winter 2020/21 | Riding Instructor
