Soup Night Read Free

Night brings back the positive points of small-town living. It feels really good.
    — Mary
    It is surely no accident, then, that the event that transformed a modern city block into a cohesive, caring community is built around food. Of course it’s not the food per se — although the food is darned good — but the implicit message that comes with sharing it. Everyone at Soup Night feels it, and when they talk about it they often echo each other’s words. Marty says, “The idea that people would openly share their food, their home with anyone who comes . . . it’s such a precious gift.” Joy adds, “There’s something about sitting down and sharing a meal that moves the whole thing to another level.”
    It also has a very important practical benefit. As Lisa succinctly puts it, “The simple act of eating soup together makes it easier to handle small problems.”
    In parts of Africa, there is a fundamental understanding that someone who eats a meal with you will not hurt you, even if that person is from an enemy tribe. Sharing a meal is an overt act of trust.
Soup Nights around the Country
    The need for community, for feeling connected to our fellow human beings, is universal and timeless. But in the modern hurry-scurry world, it’s becoming harder and harder to achieve. It’s a nasty kind of catch-22: the more fractured our lives become, the more we yearn for that sense of connectedness — and the more elusive it seems.

    In troubled times, such as we now find ourselves in, the need is particularly acute. When people are fearful for their jobs and their homes, anxious about their family budgets, the emotional support of a strong social network means everything. Knowing you are surrounded by people who care about you goes a long way toward keeping despair at bay.
    Living in a close community brings many important benefits. There is, for instance, solid evidence that cohesive neighborhoods have less crime and fewer traffic accidents, that children with a secure home environment do better in school, and that people with a strong social network have higher levels of mental and physical health. Not to mention ready access to borrowing really good lawn mowers.
    All across the country thoughtful, caring, engaged people are searching for a way to build that kind of supportive community. And here’s a remarkable thing: unbeknownst to each other, many of them have hit on the same solution, of hosting a Soup Night.
    For, as I quickly learned, the Stanton Street Soup Night is not unique. In New York, Chicago, San Francisco, Pittsburgh, Milwaukee, Cleveland, Boston, Houston, and many other places, neighbors are getting together regularly for their version of Soup Night. You will meet many of them in the pages ahead.
    And the concept extends beyond the limits of neighborhood geography too. As I began to dig into this idea, I found many other groups all around the country that host some special event to bring people together and fulfill their goals, all while enjoying a great meal of homemade soup. (See Soup for a Good Cause, page 293 .) There are countless reasons that people gather: to raise funds for a local nonprofit, to sponsor youth programs at a church, to introduce all the members of a community garden, to support cutting-edge artists with small grants, or to help a local program that’s focused on alleviating hunger. What we once called a “soup kitchen” is alive and well in America, but today it takes many innovative and dynamic forms.
    Many recent studies have verified what common sense suggests: people who have a rich social network are healthier, live longer, and rank higher on the happiness index.
    Originally — before I discovered all the other wonderful groups around the country — this book started out to be just about Stanton Street. Because I had the opportunity to talk at length with all the Stanton Street families (adults and children), I can share with you their very eloquent statements about what