Mina and her mother had very little food. One day a kind woman gave Mina a small magic pot. When Mina said, “Cook, little pot,” it made sweet porridge. When she said, “Rest, little pot,” it stopped. Now they could eat whenever they were hungry. One afternoon Mina went to visit a friend. Mother made porridge but could not remember the stopping words. It rose over the rim and across the kitchen floor. Mina came home, said the words, and the pot grew still. They cleaned the floor with their neighbors and shared the extra porridge.
A First Stories tale
Sweet Porridge
Slide left for a simpler telling and right for more detail. Your choice carries to the next story.
Open this version in the audiobook shelfMina and her mother were hungry. A kind woman gave Mina a little pot. “Cook, little pot,” Mina said. Warm porridge bubbled up. They ate together. The next day, Mother forgot how to stop the pot. Porridge filled the table! Mina came home and said, “Rest, little pot.” It stopped. The neighbors helped clean up, and everyone had a bowl.
Mina and her mother had very little food. One day a kind woman gave Mina a small magic pot. When Mina said, “Cook, little pot,” it made sweet porridge. When she said, “Rest, little pot,” it stopped. Now they could eat whenever they were hungry. One afternoon Mina went to visit a friend. Mother made porridge but could not remember the stopping words. It rose over the rim and across the kitchen floor. Mina came home, said the words, and the pot grew still. They cleaned the floor with their neighbors and shared the extra porridge.
Mina and her mother had almost nothing left for supper. On her walk home, Mina met a woman carrying a small clay pot. The woman heard about their empty cupboard and offered the pot to Mina. “Ask it to cook,” she explained, “and it will make porridge. Ask it to rest, and it will stop.”
At home, Mina tried the words. “Cook, little pot.” Sweet porridge rose inside. She filled two bowls, then said, “Rest, little pot.” The bubbling stopped at once. Mina and her mother ate until they were comfortably full.
The next afternoon Mina was away when Mother felt hungry. She remembered how to start the pot, but the words to stop it slipped her mind. Porridge crept over the stove and toward the door. Mina returned, saw what had happened, and called, “Rest, little pot!” The pot became quiet. Their neighbors brought buckets and cloths. Together they cleaned the kitchen, then enjoyed the porridge that had been saved in clean bowls.
One winter morning, Mina discovered that only a spoonful of grain remained in the cupboard. Her mother tried to look cheerful, but Mina could see she was worried. On the way to fetch water, Mina met an old woman who asked why she looked so thoughtful. Mina told her the truth.
The woman gave her a plain clay pot. It looked too small to be useful. “Say, ‘Cook, little pot,’ when you need a meal,” the woman said. “When you have enough, say, ‘Rest, little pot.’” Mina carried it home, and soon warm, sweet porridge filled two bowls. She spoke the second phrase, and the pot stopped. For the first time in days, Mother and daughter could relax over supper.
The following afternoon Mina went to help a neighbor. Her mother decided to make a bowl of porridge, but she had not listened closely to the stopping words. The pot filled, then overflowed. Mother tried several guesses. None worked. Porridge spread across the hearth and out to the doorstep.
Mina returned and understood at once. “Rest, little pot,” she said. The bubbling ended. Mother admitted that she had been too eager to begin and too distracted to remember the rest. Together with their neighbors, they cleaned the mess. They saved what was fresh and shared it. After that, the two phrases were written on a card above the stove, where anyone could read them.
Mina's mother had stretched their last sack of grain as far as she could. Mina knew there was little left, yet neither of them wanted to ask the neighbors for help when everyone was having a difficult winter. On the path to the well, Mina met an older woman who noticed her worried face. The woman listened without interrupting and offered her a small clay pot.
“It will cook porridge when you ask it to,” she said. “Tell it to rest when you have enough.” She taught Mina the exact phrases and waited while Mina repeated them. The pot looked ordinary, but Mina carried it home with care.
That evening, “Cook, little pot” brought a swirl of fragrant porridge to the brim. Mina filled two bowls and said, “Rest, little pot.” Her mother smiled over the first warm supper they had shared in days. Soon they began offering bowls to neighbors whose cupboards were also bare.
One afternoon Mina went out to deliver a bowl. Mother started the pot for a visitor, but when it was time to stop she could not recall the phrase. She tried asking politely, then firmly. The pot kept cooking. Porridge crossed the hearth and reached the door. Mother called for help, and the neighbors moved chairs and rugs out of the way.
Mina returned, spoke the right words, and the pot fell quiet. They cleaned the lane together. Mother apologized for the trouble; the neighbors answered that they were grateful for all the meals she and Mina had shared. Later Mina wrote both phrases clearly above the stove. A helpful gift, she realized, worked best when people remembered every part of its care.
Inspired by Grimm's Fairy Tales. This text is a new adaptation.