The Honest Woodcutter
Deep within a thick forest, there lived a woodcutter who worked from sunrise to sunset to provide for his family. He wasn't a wealthy man, but he was a proud one, known for the strength of his arms and the sharpness of his old iron axe. One afternoon, while felling a tree near the edge of a deep, swirling river, his hands slipped. With a splash, his axe—his only tool and his family's livelihood—sank to the bottom of the dark water.
The woodcutter sat by the riverbank, devastated. Without his axe, he could not work, and without work, his family would go hungry. Suddenly, the water began to glow, and a spirit rose from the depths. "Why do you weep, good man?" the spirit asked. The woodcutter explained his loss. The spirit nodded and dived back into the river.
Seconds later, the spirit reappeared, holding a magnificent axe made of solid, gleaming gold. "Is this the axe you lost?" the spirit asked. The woodcutter's heart raced. The gold axe was worth more than he could earn in ten lifetimes. He could sell it and never work again. But he looked at the axe and shook his head. "No," he said. "That is not mine."
The spirit dived again and returned with an axe of shimmering silver. Again, the woodcutter shook his head. "That, too, is not mine." Finally, the spirit dived a third time and brought up the old, rusted iron axe. The woodcutter's eyes lit up. "That is it!" he cried. "That is my axe!"
The spirit smiled, moved by the man's integrity. "Because you were honest when you had every reason to lie, you shall have all three." The woodcutter returned home with the gold, the silver, and his iron axe. But when a greedy neighbour heard the story and tried to trick the spirit by dropping his own axe on purpose, he reached greedily for the golden axe. The spirit, disgusted by the lie, vanished with the gold, leaving the neighbour with nothing—not even the old axe he started with.




