The Honest Woodcutter

Once upon a time, in a small village beside a bright, rushing river, there lived a woodcutter named Arun. He was not rich, but he was known for two things: he worked hard every day, and he always told the truth.

Each morning, Arun would take his simple axe and walk into the forest. He chopped fallen branches, gathered firewood, and carried it back to the village to sell. The money was just enough to buy rice, vegetables, and a little lamp oil for the evening.

One day, while cutting wood near the riverbank, Arun swung his axe a little too wide. The handle slipped from his sweaty hands, and the axe flew into the river with a loud splash.

Arun stared into the water. The current was fast, and the river was deep. He tried reaching with a long branch, but the axe was gone.

“Oh no,” Arun whispered. “Without my axe, I cannot work. Without work, I cannot eat.”

He sat on a rock and covered his face. He did not complain about the river or blame anyone else. He simply felt sad.

A moment later, the water shimmered like glass. A gentle voice rose from the river.

“Why are you so troubled, woodcutter?”

Arun looked up. Standing on the surface of the water was a river spirit, glowing softly like moonlight.

“My axe fell into the river,” Arun said. “It was the only tool I had.”

“I will help you,” said the spirit. “But first, you must answer honestly.”

The spirit dove beneath the river and returned holding a beautiful axe made of gold. It sparkled in the sunlight.

“Is this your axe?” the spirit asked.

Arun’s eyes widened. A golden axe could buy a house! It could buy food for years!

But Arun shook his head. “No. My axe was old and simple. That one is not mine.”

The spirit nodded and disappeared again. This time, the spirit returned with a shining silver axe.

“Is this your axe?”

Arun took a deep breath. The silver axe was also valuable, but he answered, “No. My axe was not silver either.”

The spirit smiled warmly and dove beneath the river a third time. At last, the spirit returned holding a plain iron axe with a wooden handle—scratched and worn.

“Is this your axe?”

Arun’s face brightened. “Yes! That is my axe. Thank you!”

The spirit’s eyes twinkled. “You have spoken the truth three times, even when lying could have made you rich. Because you are honest, you deserve a reward.”

The spirit placed the iron axe into Arun’s hands. Then, to Arun’s surprise, the spirit also set the golden axe and the silver axe on the riverbank.

“These are gifts,” said the spirit. “Use them wisely.”

Arun bowed. “I will. I promise.”

With three axes, Arun could work faster and earn more. But he did not become proud. He shared extra food with neighbors who were struggling. He bought books for the village school. And whenever children asked how he became successful, Arun always said the same thing:

“I got my reward because I told the truth—especially when it was hard.”

From that day on, the villagers remembered Arun’s lesson: honesty may not feel like the quickest path, but it builds the strongest life.