Chapter 2 — THE SECRET OF THE BIG POT

Margaret did not cut the potatoes into large pieces.

She cut them very small.

The onion was chopped finely.

The salted meat was not placed into the pot whole. Instead, she scraped off a few thin pieces and saved the rest.

Then she soaked the beans before adding them.

Thomas watched from his chair.

“You’re saving the meat?”

“Yes.”

“But shouldn’t we put it all in?”

“No.”

Margaret shook her head.

“If we eat everything tonight, tonight is the only night we eat well.”

She added water.

A lot of water.

Then came the barley.

The pot slowly began to simmer.

The children gathered around the kitchen.

“What is it?” little Samuel asked.

“Soup,” Margaret said.

“It smells good.”

“It will taste better tomorrow.”

When the soup was ready, Margaret served everyone a small bowl.

The children looked disappointed at first.

The soup seemed thin.

But there were potatoes, beans and barley in every bowl.

The little pieces made the soup feel fuller than it looked.

They ate slowly.

Margaret noticed something important.

Nobody asked for seconds.

Not because they weren’t hungry.

Because the soup was warm, thick and filling.

That night, there was still half a pot left.

The next morning, Margaret did not throw it away.

She added water.

Another handful of barley.

One potato.

And a little salt.

She heated it slowly.

By lunchtime, the soup had become thicker.

The family ate again.

That evening, Margaret added another onion.

The next day, a handful of beans.

She never emptied the pot.

She never allowed it to cool completely before the next meal.

And she never used all of one ingredient at once.

Thomas finally understood.

“You’re not making soup.”

Margaret smiled.

“What am I making?”

“A food supply.”

She laughed softly.

“Exactly.”

The children began calling it the Never-Empty Pot.

But there was another rule.

Every time they ate from the pot, they had to add something back.

Sometimes it was food.

Sometimes it was simply water and a little grain.

The soup became a living meal.

It changed every day.

One day it was mostly potatoes.

Another day it was beans.

When the family found a few carrots left in the cellar, Margaret added them.

When Thomas managed to catch two small rabbits, she used only a little meat from each.

The rest was preserved.

Week after week, the pot remained.

And somehow, the pantry seemed to last.