“The Honest Woodcutter & the Spirit’s Reward” Online Stories

The Honest Woodcutter

Quite a long time ago, in a little town settled close to a shining waterway, there carried on with an unfortunate woodcutter. He was a straightforward man, with a modest heart, and his main ownership of significant worth was his ragged hatchet, which he used to hack wood in the backwoods. Consistently, he would rise early, cut wood by the stream, and get back with his heap to sell at the market. Be that as it may, one critical morning, as he swung his hatchet to hack a thick log, the edge slipped from his hands, gleaming briefly in the daylight prior to falling into the stream with a weighty sprinkle.

The woodcutter stood frozen, gazing at the waves in the water where his valuable hatchet had vanished. His heart sank. Without his hatchet, how might he work? How might he take care of his loved ones? He bowed somewhere near the riverbank, frantic, and shouted out for help.

“If it’s not too much trouble, soul of the waterway, help me!” he argued.

Incredibly, a sparkling figure rose up out of the water. It was a soul, tall and sparkling with a light that appeared to emanate from the profundities of the actual waterway. The soul’s voice was delicate yet firm.

“For what reason do you sob, woodcutter?” it inquired.

“My hatchet… it’s gone,” the woodcutter said, his voice loaded up with distress. “Without it, I can’t work. I can’t accommodate my loved ones.”

The soul gestured understandingly and, without a word, dove into the waterway. Minutes after the fact, it returned, holding a wonderful brilliant hatchet. The daylight bobbed off the brilliant cutting edge, and the woodcutter’s eyes extended in stunningness.

“Is this your hatchet?” the soul inquired.

The woodcutter panted, however at that point he shook his head. “No, soul,” he said with incredible trustworthiness. “That hatchet isn’t mine. My hatchet was straightforward. This one is excessively stupendous for me.”

The soul grinned, obviously satisfied by the woodcutter’s genuineness. “You are an honest man,” the soul said. “Thus, I reward you.” With an elegant movement, the soul gave the woodcutter the brilliant hatchet, and afterward, with one more flick of its hand, a silver hatchet showed up, sparkling as splendidly as the stars.

“Take these,” the soul said. “Your trustworthiness has procured you not one, however two fortunes.”

The woodcutter, overpowered with appreciation, acknowledged the tomahawks and got back, where his family wondered about the gift. His great name spread all through the town, and everybody appreciated him for his trustworthiness.

Be that as it may, not long later, the woodcutter’s companion, an individual woodcutter named Tomas, heard the story. Tomas was a man who generally attempted to pursue faster routes and rushed to conceal reality when it fit him. He, as well, had as of late dropped his own hatchet into the waterway, and when he knew about the brilliant award, he chose to take a shot.

The following day, Tomas dared to the waterway and, similarly as the woodcutter had done, shouted to the soul. The equivalent gleaming figure showed up, and Tomas, energetic for an award, immediately lied.

“Soul,” he said, “I lost my hatchet in the waterway, however I would rather not request a straightforward hatchet like the one I had. Bring me something better. Maybe one made of gold, similar to the one I’ve caught wind of.”

The soul squinted its eyes, detecting Tomas’ deceptive nature. “Is that really your solicitation?” it asked, its voice a little colder at this point.

“Indeed, yes! I merit a brilliant hatchet,” Tomas demanded, his eagerness blurring his judgment.

Without a word, the soul dove into the stream and arose with a brilliant hatchet, similar as the one it had given the woodcutter. Be that as it may, when it offered it to Tomas, it gave him just the brilliant one — and that’s it.

“Take it, then,” said the soul. “However, recollect, trustworthiness would have procured you more.”

Tomas, excessively anxious to see the illustration, took the brilliant hatchet and surged away, pleased with his award. In any case, when he attempted to hack wood with it, he understood the hatchet was excessively weighty for him to use. It was lovely, indeed, however it was futile to him, for it wasn’t the right instrument for his work.

Days passed, and Tomas found that he could not do anything with the brilliant hatchet. He became disappointed, accusing the soul, yet soon, even his pride couldn’t conceal reality. He had lied, and presently he had nothing to show for it except for a gleaming, unreasonable award.

In the interim, the legit woodcutter proceeded with his work, utilizing his brilliant and silver tomahawks to hack wood effortlessly. He had procured material abundance as well as, more critically, the admiration of his companions. He was a man of honesty, and that was worth definitely more than gold.

Thus, the residents took in an important example that day: trustworthiness generally pays off. The woodcutter, through his honesty, had acquired two fine tomahawks as well as something far more prominent: the trust and reverence of all who knew him.

Moral:
Trustworthiness, regardless of the conditions, consistently prompts rewards — whether seen or inconspicuous. Avarice and untrustworthiness, then again, may offer brief benefits at the end of the day bring vacancy.