The Axe Beneath the Water

At the edge of a quiet forest, a hardworking woodcutter lived in a small wooden cabin.
The cabin was old, the roof creaked in the wind, but inside it lived patience, effort, and hope.

Every morning, he picked up his plain iron axe and walked toward the riverbank, where fallen trees waited to be cut.
The axe was scratched and dull, but it was honest work, and it kept his home warm and fed.

One afternoon, while chopping near the river, his foot slipped on wet stones.
The axe flew from his hands and disappeared into the deep, moving water.

He froze.

Without shouting or anger, he sat down quietly.
That axe was not just a tool—it was his way forward.

“How will I work tomorrow?” he whispered.

Tears fell into the river.

The water began to glow softly, as if sunlight was shining from beneath the surface.
From the river rose a calm, glowing presence, gentle and peaceful.

“Why is your heart so heavy?” the voice asked.

The woodcutter stood respectfully and said,
“I lost my axe. Without it, I cannot earn my living.”

The presence disappeared into the river and returned holding a golden axe, bright and perfect.

“Is this the one you lost?”

The woodcutter shook his head.
“No. That is far too fine. Mine was simple.”

Again, the river stirred.
This time, a silver axe appeared.

“Is this yours?”

“No,” he replied softly.
“Mine was made of iron.”

For the third time, the water moved.
Up came a small iron axe, worn and familiar.

The woodcutter’s face filled with relief.
“Yes. That is mine.”

“You spoke the truth when you could have chosen more,” the presence said.
“For that, honesty will reward you.”

The golden and silver axes were placed beside the iron one.

“Let this remind you that truth builds a future stronger than wealth.”

The river returned to silence.

Word of the event spread quickly.

Soon, another woodcutter decided to test his luck.

“If honesty brings rewards,” he thought,
“then pretending will bring even more.”

The next day, he threw his axe into the river on purpose and cried loudly.

The water glowed again.
The same presence appeared and lifted a golden axe.

“Is this yours?”

“Yes,” the man said without hesitation.

The glow faded.

“Greed speaks quickly,” the voice said,
“but truth stands firm.”

The golden axe vanished.
So did the presence.

The man stood alone, realizing he had lost not only gold—but his own axe as well.

From that day on, people remembered:

Honesty keeps what greed always loses.