There was a man who left the city, went away into the mountains,
built a cabin and lived in it.  He said nothing and saw no one, except
an occasional friend who came to visit, eat a meal of stew, and leave.
After a while when friends arrived they would not see the man.

but they always found a pot of stew cooking on the stove, and
since they were hungry, they ate, then waited for their friend.
When he did not return, they left saying how sorry they were
that they had missed him and vowed to return to see him again.

Year after year the friends returned.  Each time they found the stew
but not the man, and always they filled their bowls and ate.
This happend two thousand years ago on a remote mountainside
in China.  Yet even today the man's cabin remains, not far from here,

clean, well kept, the woodshed full of wood, a pot of stew
cooking on the stove.  I was there just yesterday to fill my bowl.