The Woodcutter's Bargain
There once was a poor woodcutter who lived on the outskirts of a village and hiked into the nearby forest to gather wood each day. On his way home from the woods, he would pass an old ramshackle farmhouse. One day, as he was returning to the village with a cart full of firewood, an old woman stepped out of the farmhouse and called him over
“Dear sir, may I please buy some firewood?”
Seeing her ragged clothes, the woodcutter guessed that she was poor. Being in a kind mood, he said to her,
“Yes ma’am. I will sell you a bundle for three pennies.”
“Very well” she said. She handed him three pennies, took her bundle of firewood, and let him continue on his way. The next week, she hailed him again. This time, he was tired and hungry and did not want to do her any favors. I’ll name my regular price, he thought, and be done with it.
“I’m sorry” he told her, “This time I can only sell you a bundle for three silver coins”
“Very well” she said, to his surprise. They made the sale and he went on his way.
On the third week, he was once again tired and hungry and in a hurry to return to the village. He saw the old woman waiting outside her house and gave a sigh. I’d rather not go out of my way like this every week, he thought, so I’ll name a price she’ll have to refuse.
“The price has gone up” he told her, “This time I’ll have to charge you three gold coins.”
“Very well” she said. She handed him three precious gold coins in exchange for her bundle of wood. He stared at the coins in his hand and stuttered “Are — are you sure?” He thought for a moment and asked, “Do you need another bundle of wood?” But by that time, she was already walking back into her farmhouse.
As remarkable as this incident was, by the next week the woodcutter had forgotten all about it. His daughter had fallen ill and was close to death. As he hurried home after work, his thoughts were on her alone — even when the old woman called him over to her yard.
“Old woman,” he said, “You have been very generous to me. But today I really don’t want to do business with you. All I want is for my daughter to be healthy again.”
“Very well” she said, “give me my firewood and you will return home to find your daughter in good health.”
With a mixture of hope and desperation, he gave her a bundle of firewood and then hurried on his way. Behold! When he got back to his house, his daughter ran out to greet him, the very picture of health.
After this happened, the woodcutter spent a long time thinking about the old woman. She has great power, he said to himself. Next time I see her, I will ask her for the most valuable thing I can think of.
And so one week later, as he made his way out of the woods and up to the farmhouse, he stopped to consider what to ask for. At first he considered asking for a vast amount of gold. Perhaps a fine horse and a carriage. Or maybe a fine reputation and position in the village. The more he thought about it, the more difficult the question of what to ask for seemed. He thought and thought until suddenly he realized that the sun had set. He hurried onwards to the farmhouse, hoping that the old woman would still be there waiting for him. As he drew near, he saw that the front window was aglow with a warm firelight and the old woman was nowhere to be found.
He dashed to the front door and knocked until the old woman opened it.
“I’m here to sell you your bundle of firewood!” he explained.
She looked at him and laughed. “That’s awfully kind of you” she said, “but while I was waiting, I decided to gather a few dry limbs myself. Before long, I had all the firewood I needed. Thanks for your offer, but I won’t be needing your help any longer.”
“No!” the woodcutter exclaimed, “I insist. Please keep buying from me. I’d give all my money and reputation just to sell you one last bundle.”
“Very well” the old woman said, taking the bundle from his outstretched arms. And from that day onwards, the woodcutter fell into disrepute in the village and nobody bought a single stick of firewood from him.
And every time he made his way back from the woods, he would stop and gaze wistfully at the front window of the ramshackle farmhouse, which was aglow with warm firelight.