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Turtle Soup

by Emma

During the Great Depression, my grandma was trying hard to feed her brood of three (at the time) as well as my grandfather, her elderly aunt, grandpa's elderly parents and herself on the meager earnings my grandfather was able to bring home. The family lived on the (then) outskirts of Grand Rapids, MI. (Their home place is now in the middle of a bustling city, but I digress.)

There was one crust of bread left in the house to feed the entire family, no money to buy any food, the garden wasn't producing yet, and it was many days until payday (over a week away). Grandma was at her wit's end, not knowing which way to turn, ready to just give up.

Something (someone?) told grandma to go out to the woods which surrounded their home and to take that crust of bread with her. Grandma, not knowing what else to do, listened to the voice in her heart and took the family's last piece of sustenance out to the woods.
Grandma stood there, surrounded by wildness, feeling desperate, but not willing to go home until she had something to fill the bellies of her loved ones.

Daylight began to turn to darkness when, suddenly, out from who-knows-where, came a snapping turtle. Well, grandma, a woman who knew that food was food, especially when you're starving, coaxed that turtle back to the family's yard with that crust of bread. Once there, grandma grabbed grandpa's wood ax and whacked the turtle's head off. Grandma cleaned that turtle and made soup from the gift. Enough soup to feed her loved ones and stay starvation until grandpa was paid again.

From that day on, our family has had great reverence for wild foods, they are truly gifts to be treasured.