In a small village nestled among the rolling hills of Nepal, where terraced fields climbed the mountainsides like green staircases and morning mist clung to the valleys, there lived a woodcutter named Ramhari. He was a simple man with calloused hands and a weathered face, marked by years of hard labor under the mountain sun. Though poverty was his constant companion and his clothes were patched and threadbare, Ramhari possessed something far more valuable than gold: an honest heart that had never told a lie.
Every morning, as the first rays of sunlight painted the peaks golden, Ramhari would shoulder his old axe and walk into the dense forest that carpeted the hillsides. There, among the towering sal trees and whispering pines, he would search for fallen branches and select trees to harvest. He would cut wood throughout the day, bundle it carefully, and carry it back to the village to sell at the market. The few coins he earned were barely enough to feed himself and his wife, but Ramhari never complained. He worked with quiet dignity, grateful for each day and the strength in his arms.
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One particular morning, Ramhari ventured deeper into the forest than usual, following a narrow path that wound between moss-covered boulders and ancient tree roots. There, in a small clearing where sunlight filtered through the canopy like streams of liquid gold, he discovered a magnificent tree. Its trunk was thick and strong, its branches reaching toward the sky like arms stretched in prayer.
“This tree will provide good wood,” Ramhari thought to himself. He approached it carefully, studying its branches to determine which ones he could harvest without harming the tree. Choosing a sturdy branch that extended over a nearby pond, he began to climb, his experienced hands finding holds in the rough bark.
The pond below was remarkably beautiful, its surface smooth as a mirror, reflecting the green canopy above. Crystal-clear water sparkled in the dappled sunlight, so deep that its bottom vanished into mysterious darkness. Ramhari settled himself comfortably on the branch and raised his axe to begin cutting.
The rhythmic sound of chopping echoed through the forest: thwack, thwack, thwack. But as Ramhari made one particularly strong swing, disaster struck. The worn handle of his old axe, weakened by years of use, suddenly slipped from his sweaty hands. Time seemed to slow as he watched helplessly, his precious tool tumbling through the air. It fell with a splash into the deep pond below, the ripples spreading across the glassy surface before disappearing entirely into the depths.
Ramhari’s heart sank faster than the axe. He scrambled down from the tree and rushed to the water’s edge, peering desperately into the pond. But the water was far too deep, the bottom lost in shadows. Without his axe, he could not work. Without work, he could not earn money. Without money, his wife and he would starve.
The woodcutter sank to his knees on the muddy bank, overwhelmed by despair. Tears began to stream down his weathered cheeks as he thought of his wife waiting at home, of the bills they couldn’t pay, of the future that now seemed impossibly dark.
“Oh, what terrible luck!” he cried out to the empty forest. “How could I be so careless? That axe was all I had in this world! What will become of us now?” He buried his face in his hands, his shoulders shaking with sobs.
Suddenly, the surface of the pond began to shimmer and glow with an otherworldly light. Ramhari looked up, startled, as the water seemed to part like a curtain. Rising from the depths, surrounded by a halo of golden radiance, came an angel. She was breathtakingly beautiful, dressed in flowing white robes that seemed to be woven from moonlight itself. Her eyes were kind and compassionate, and her presence filled the clearing with a sense of peace and wonder.
“Why do you weep, dear woodcutter?” the angel asked, her voice like the gentle tinkling of bells carried on the mountain breeze.
Ramhari wiped his tears with the back of his hand, hardly believing what he was seeing. “Oh, blessed angel,” he said, his voice trembling, “I am a poor woodcutter, and my axe has fallen into your pond. It was my only tool, my only means of feeding my family. Without it, I am lost.”
The angel’s expression softened with sympathy. “Wait here,” she said gently. “I will try to help you.” With that, she dove gracefully back into the pond, disappearing beneath the shimmering surface.
Ramhari waited anxiously, his heart pounding with hope and uncertainty. After what seemed like an eternity but was really only a few minutes, the angel emerged again from the water. This time, she held in her delicate hands an axe that gleamed brilliantly in the sunlight. It was made of pure gold, its blade catching the light like a captured piece of the sun itself.
“Is this your axe?” the angel asked, holding it out to him.
Ramhari stared at the magnificent golden axe, its value surely worth more than he could earn in a hundred lifetimes. For a brief moment, he imagined what such wealth could mean: a new house, fine clothes, food every day, an end to all his struggles. But the thought lasted only an instant before honesty, deeply rooted in his soul, spoke louder than temptation.
“No, blessed angel,” he said firmly, though his voice was sad. “That is not my axe. My axe is old and made of simple iron. It is nothing like that beautiful golden one.”
The angel nodded and dove back into the pond without a word. Ramhari waited again, his hands clasped together nervously. When the angel rose from the water a second time, she held an axe made of gleaming silver, its surface reflecting the world like polished moonlight.
“Is this your axe?” she asked again.
Once more, Ramhari felt his breath catch. The silver axe was almost as valuable as the golden one. With it, he could solve all his problems, lift himself and his wife out of poverty forever. But again, the truth was more precious to him than any metal.
“No, kind angel,” he replied, shaking his head. “That is not my axe either. I am just a poor woodcutter. I cannot afford such expensive tools. Please, if you can find it, I only want my old, simple axe back.”
The angel’s face broke into a radiant smile. For the third time, she dove into the pond. When she emerged, she held a worn, ordinary iron axe with a wooden handle, its blade nicked and dulled from years of use.
“Is this your axe?” she asked for the third time.
“Yes! Yes!” Ramhari exclaimed, his face lighting up with joy. “That is my axe! Oh, thank you, blessed angel! Thank you so much!” He reached out eagerly to take it, cradling the old tool in his hands as if it were the most precious treasure in the world.
The angel’s smile grew even warmer. “Ramhari,” she said, her voice filled with approval, “you are a truly honest person. In a world where many would have lied for gold and silver, you told the truth even when it would have cost you nothing to deceive me. Your integrity makes me proud. Because of your honesty, I wish to reward you.”
She placed not only his own axe in his hands but also the golden axe and the silver axe. “Take all three,” she said. “You have earned them with your truthfulness. Use them well, and may they bring blessings to you and your family.”
Ramhari could hardly believe his good fortune. With tears of gratitude streaming down his face, he bowed deeply to the angel. “Thank you, blessed one! You are too kind! I will never forget this day!”
The angel smiled once more, then slowly descended back into the pond, the glowing light fading as the water closed over her like a peaceful sleep. Ramhari gathered his three axes and the wood he had collected, and practically ran all the way home, his heart bursting with joy.
When he arrived at his small house, he called out to his wife excitedly and told her everything that had happened. His wife wept with happiness, thanking the heavens for the blessing that had come to their humble home. They embraced, already planning how they would use their new fortune to improve their lives and help others in their village.
But their conversation carried through the thin walls of their house, and every word was heard by their neighbor who lived next door. This neighbor was a woodcutter too, but unlike Ramhari, he was consumed by greed. His eyes were always calculating, always searching for ways to gain more wealth without honest work. When he heard about the angel and the golden and silver axes, his mind immediately began scheming.
“If that fool Ramhari could get golden and silver axes just by dropping his axe in a pond,” the greedy neighbor thought to himself, “then surely I can do the same! But unlike him, I’m smart enough to claim the golden axe right away!”
The very next morning, before the sun had fully risen, the greedy neighbor grabbed his axe and hurried to the same spot in the forest. He found the pond easily enough, recognizing it from Ramhari’s description. Looking around to make sure no one was watching, he deliberately threw his axe into the water with a loud splash.
Then he began to wail dramatically, throwing himself on the ground and crying out with exaggerated sobs. “Oh, woe is me! My axe has fallen into the pond! What shall I do? How terrible! How tragic!”
Just as he had hoped, the surface of the pond began to glow, and the beautiful angel rose from the water, her expression concerned. “Why do you cry, woodcutter?” she asked gently.
The greedy neighbor forced more tears from his eyes and said in a pitiful voice, “Oh, blessed angel, my precious axe has fallen into your pond, and I am too poor to buy another! Please help me, for without my axe, my family will starve!”
The angel, believing his story, nodded sympathetically. “Wait here,” she said, and dove into the pond. A few minutes later, she emerged holding the magnificent golden axe that gleamed in the morning light.
“Is this your axe?” she asked.
The greedy neighbor’s eyes lit up with triumph. His heart raced with excitement as he imagined all the wealth that golden axe represented. Without a moment’s hesitation, he lunged forward, reaching for the axe with grasping hands.
“Yes! Yes!” he shouted eagerly. “That’s my axe! That’s definitely my axe! Give it to me!”
But as soon as the words left his mouth, the angel’s expression changed. Her kind face grew stern and cold, her eyes flashing with anger. The warm golden light that had surrounded her turned to an icy blue.
“You liar!” she said, her voice now sharp and commanding. “This is not your axe, and you know it! You came here with deceit in your heart, thinking you could trick me and steal what you have not earned. You are greedy and dishonest, caring only for wealth and not for truth. Such wickedness cannot go unpunished!”
The greedy neighbor’s face went pale with fear. He fell to his knees, stammering, “Wait! I’m sorry! I made a mistake! Please, give me back my own axe at least!”
But the angel’s expression remained hard and unforgiving. “No,” she said coldly. “You shall have nothing. Let this be a lesson to you about the price of greed and lies.” With that, she sank back into the pond, taking the golden axe with her, and did not appear again.
The greedy neighbor screamed and cried, begging and pleading for hours, but the pond remained still and silent. No matter how much he wept, no matter how loudly he called, the angel never returned. The sun climbed high in the sky and then began to set, and still he sat there, empty-handed.
Finally, as darkness fell over the forest, the greedy neighbor trudged home in defeat and shame. He had lost not only the golden axe he had tried to steal but also his own axe that he had thrown into the pond. With no tool to work with, he faced poverty and hardship, all because of his dishonesty and greed.
Meanwhile, Ramhari and his wife used their golden and silver axes wisely. They sold them and bought a small piece of land, where they grew crops and lived comfortably. Ramhari continued to work honestly, and his reputation for integrity spread throughout the village. He never forgot the lesson the angel had taught him: that honesty is worth more than gold, and truth is the greatest treasure of all.
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The Moral Lesson
This timeless tale teaches us that honesty and integrity are virtues that bring true rewards, while greed and dishonesty lead only to loss and misery. Ramhari’s truthfulness, even when lying could have brought him instant wealth, earned him not only material blessings but also self-respect and inner peace. His greedy neighbor, who tried to deceive the angel for easy gain, lost everything because he valued wealth over truth. The story reminds us that character and honesty are more precious than any treasure, and that those who act with integrity will ultimately be blessed, while those who deceive will face consequences.
Knowledge Check
Q1: Who is Ramhari in this Nepali folktale and what makes him special?
A: Ramhari is a poor woodcutter who lives in a village in Nepal with his wife. Despite his poverty and difficult circumstances, he is known for his complete honesty and integrity. He has never told a lie in his life, and this virtue proves to be more valuable than any material wealth, ultimately leading to his reward from the angel.
Q2: How did Ramhari lose his axe in the story?
A: Ramhari climbed a tree to cut some branches for wood. While working on a branch that extended over a deep pond, the worn handle of his old axe slipped from his sweaty hands during a swing. The axe fell into the pond, which was too deep for him to retrieve it, leaving him devastated because it was his only tool for earning a living.
Q3: Why did the angel test Ramhari three times with different axes?
A: The angel was testing Ramhari’s honesty and character. By first showing him a golden axe and then a silver axe, both far more valuable than his own, she was giving him opportunities to lie and claim the valuable axes as his own. When he truthfully rejected both and only claimed his simple iron axe, he proved his integrity was genuine, not just convenient.
Q4: What was the greedy neighbor’s mistake in this Nepali folktale?
A: The greedy neighbor’s fundamental mistake was his dishonesty and greed. He deliberately threw his axe into the pond, pretending it was an accident, and then immediately claimed the golden axe as his own when the angel presented it. His lie and attempt to deceive the angel for easy wealth resulted in him losing both the golden axe and his own axe as punishment.
Q5: What rewards did Ramhari receive for his honesty?
A: For his truthfulness, Ramhari received three axes: his own original iron axe that had fallen into the pond, plus the golden axe and the silver axe as gifts from the angel. She specifically told him these were rewards for his honesty. With this wealth, he and his wife were able to buy land and live comfortably while maintaining their honest lifestyle.
Q6: What cultural and moral values from Nepal are reflected in this folktale?
A: The story reflects several important Nepali and Hindu cultural values including the virtue of satya (truthfulness), the concept of dharma (righteous living), the belief that good deeds are rewarded and bad deeds punished (karma), the appearance of divine beings who test and reward mortals, the dignity of honest labor regardless of poverty, and the destructive nature of greed (lobha). The tale emphasizes that spiritual and moral wealth is more important than material possessions.
Source: Nepali folktale, Nepal
