The Bridge of the Bowls

 

High atop a hill where the sun seemed to sing, lived an old woman named Luma, a weaver of stories and guardian of an ancestral secret: every people in the world had an invisible bowl, made of memories, laughter, and tears.

But those bowls were empty… until someone shared.

One day, Luma decided to invite the peoples of the north, the south, the east, and the west to a ceremony. There were no speeches, no flags, no protocols. Just a long table, made of living wood, where each person brought something:

🌽 golden corn from Mexico,

🍞 warm bread from Uruguay,

🍇 sweet grapes from Greece,

🍵 fragrant tea from Japan,

🎶 and songs from every corner.

When the first child poured water into a neighbor’s bowl, something magical happened: the bowls began to glow. Not because of what they held, but because of the gesture.

The old woman smiled. “This is the Bridge of the Bowls,” she said. “It isn’t built with stone, but with acts of love.”

Since then, every time someone shares, respects, listens, or embraces, a new bowl lights up in the world.

And you, who read or hear this story, already have one in your hands. Will you fill it?