The Grain of Salt

Once upon a time in the darkness of night, a poor widow stood by her fire in her little hovel despairing that she would ever eat again. Her food was gone and winter was approaching. She searched every corner of her little hut, but all she found was a grain of salt.

“Oh,” said the widow to herself, “how good this grain of salt would be on a nice haunch of venison. What a savory stew it would make with some vegetables and a rabbit. How it would bring out the flavor of a nice fat goose. How it would help the yeast raise a nice loaf of bread. But alas, I have only this grain of salt and no venison, no vegetables, no rabbit, no goose, and no flour. I shall starve with naught but this grain of salt.” The old widow wept, and her wailing was heard by a passing tinker who happened that way.
The tinker was moved with pity for the old woman and when she had told her tale, he two sat with her and wept. The noise of the two crying out attracted the attention of a farmer who stopped to see what the problem was.

“I have no venison, no vegetables, no rabbits, no goose, and no flour,” cried the old woman. “I have only this grain of salt and I shall starve.” Hearing her tale of woe, the farmer, too, sat down to weep. Soon a miller happened upon the trio, and when he had heard the sorry tale, he sat to weep with the woman, the tinker, and the farmer.

Now it happened that a soldier was passing nearby and he heard the wailing. In spite of the fact that he had been marching for several days on only his rations and had recently run out of all but a few beans, the soldier responded to the sound of citizens in distress. He rushed to the old woman’s house prepared to stave off bandits or enemy soldiers. But he found the widow, the farmer, the tinker, and the miller all weeping about the sorry state of poverty that the widow endured.

The soldier was a clever man who had fought in many wars and had honored his king in many ways. He had seen poverty and been near starvation; he had faced death and commanded men. And when he saw the weeping people, he thought to himself that he had never seen such foolishness. But in his wisdom, he said nothing of this. Instead he comforted the four.

“I know something of starvation,” he said, “and I was just this moment looking for a good meal. But since you are so poor, I will share an army secret with you. I will show you all how to make salt soup, and then we will all feast and our bellies will be filled.”
The widow, the tinker, the farmer, and the miller were all amazed. They had never heard of such a thing as salt soup. Was it possible that they would survive after all? They paid careful attention to the instructions the soldier gave and instantly obeyed his voice of command.

“Now,” said the soldier, “we shall need a pot.” The widow brought the soldier her tiny kettle.

The tinker looked at the widow’s tiny pot and quickly said, “That pot will never hold enough soup for all of us. I have a much larger pot in my wagon.” With that, he left and returned with a large kettle that they put on the fire and the soldier instructed them to fill the pot with water.

The soldier tasted the soup and smacked his lips with satisfaction. “There is a secret to making this type of soup,” the soldier said. “We must cover the kettle with a sheepskin to hold in the flavor.” Now the widow had a tiny scrap of sheepskin that she used to try to warm at night and no matter how they tugged at it, it was not large enough to cover the kettle. That is when the farmer jumped up.

“I have a sheep that I was planning to butcher,” the farmer said. “I will bring its skin and we will cover the pot with it. That way we will all learn how to make salt soup and none of us will ever be hungry again.” This sounded like a good idea to everyone, but as the farmer left, the soldier spoke to the farmer.
“It would be wonderful if a haunch of mutton accompanied its skin to the pot,” he said to the farmer. “Perhaps you could bring that as well and it will make the salt soup so much better.” The farmer quickly agreed and went off to butcher his sheep. While he was gone, the soldier reached in his pocket and pulled out his handful of beans.

“Salt soup is so much better when it has beans and onions in it,” said the soldier. “I have only beans, but that will have to do.”
“I have an onion,” said the miller. “I will fetch it, for when we have learned to make salt soup none of us will ever go hungry again.” As he rose to leave the soldier called him aside.

“Of course,” he said, “carrots would be nice to have, but the onion will have to do.”

“I will find a carrot,” said the miller enthusiastically, and he rushed off to do so.

Now other people nearby heard the gathering and saw the farmer, the tinker, and the miller run out on their various errands. When they asked what was happening, they were told that a soldier was teaching them to make salt soup so they would never have to go hungry again. This made the villagers very happy and many came to the doorway of the widow’s tiny home and asked if they might learn to make salt soup as well. Each was sent away to gather an herb, a potato, a slice of venison, a loaf of bread, or some other small thing that their pantry would not miss. Soon the kettle was boiling and had been covered with the sheepskin. Many people gathered outside the widow’s home, awaiting a chance to taste the fabulous salt soup. The smells had wafted across the area and by dinner time, everyone was very hungry. At last, the soldier pronounced the soup “ready for the salt.”

“The secret,” said the soldier, “is to add the salt just before you are ready to serve the soup. If you keep the kettle covered with the sheepskin throughout the cooking process, there will always be enough.” With that the widow brought forth her solitary grain of salt and the soldier lifted the skin from the top just enough that the widow could cast the grain of salt into the kettle. The instant burst of aroma that flooded the widow’s home and the surrounding area was so wonderful and so intense that the entire village swooned. Then the soldier began to dip the soup into the bowls of the waiting people, starting with the widow who took the first sip of the soup.

“This is amazing!” said the widow. “To think that all I needed to make this delicious soup was one grain of salt!” Each person who tasted the soup agreed and all were thrilled with the new recipe.

“To make salt soup successfully,” said the soldier when at last he had tasted the soup himself, “you must all come together. No one person can eat a kettle of soup so delicious. But when you all share in the making and the eating, there will be plenty.”

“Now we shall never be hungry again,” exclaimed the widow.

You may think this a strange tale, but I have made salt soup on many occasions, and this sheepskin vest that I wear is the cover for my kettle.

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