The Kind Woodcutter and the Grateful Crows

The Kind Woodcutter and the Grateful Crows

By Amna Sheikh

In a small, quiet village surrounded by thick forests, there once lived a poor woodcutter. Every morning, he would rise before dawn, take his worn-out axe on his shoulder, and head deep into the forest to gather wood. That wood, when sold in the market, was the only means through which he fed his family.

He was poor, yes—but his heart was pure gold. Honesty, kindness, and compassion were the treasures he carried within. The villagers knew him not for his wealth, but for his good deeds. He never turned away anyone in need—be it a hungry neighbor or a wounded animal. Even in his poverty, he was rich in humanity.

The Day in the Forest

One summer afternoon, the sun was high and merciless. The woodcutter had been working for hours, chopping and bundling wood. Sweat rolled down his wrinkled face, and his tired body begged for rest.

After finishing his work, he looked around and spotted a large tree nearby—a banyan tree, tall and ancient, with branches wide enough to shade half the forest. The man walked over, laid his bundle of wood under the tree, and sat down, resting his back against its cool trunk.

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, letting the forest’s music lull him—chirping birds, rustling leaves, and the distant hum of cicadas. But suddenly, something caught his attention.

A strange rustling above his head.

He opened his eyes and looked up.

His heart froze.

A long black snake was slithering up the tree trunk, its glistening body moving silently toward a small nest hidden between the branches.

Inside that nest were three tiny baby crows—flapping their wings and crying helplessly. Their terrified squeaks echoed through the forest. The poor things had no idea what fate awaited them.

The woodcutter realized that the parent crows were nowhere to be seen—they had probably gone off in search of food. Without help, their babies were doomed.

The Woodcutter’s Brave Heart

The kind man forgot all his fatigue. Without thinking twice, he grabbed his axe and began climbing the tree. His hands and feet moved quickly, as though guided by instinct alone.

The snake, sensing danger, stopped midway. Its tongue flickered. It turned its head toward the man, hissing menacingly.

But the woodcutter didn’t stop.

“Not today,” he muttered under his breath. “You won’t harm them today.”

Before the snake could strike, the man swung his axe against a branch near it. The vibration startled the snake—it recoiled in fear and slipped off the branch, disappearing into the bushes below.

The baby crows stopped crying. They were safe.

The woodcutter smiled in relief. But his peace was short-lived.

A Terrible Misunderstanding

Just then, the parent crows returned. They saw a man with an axe climbing down their tree. To them, it looked as though he had just harmed their babies.

Fury filled their hearts.

With loud, angry caws, they swooped down at him, pecking his head and shoulders. Their sharp beaks cut through his skin, and soon his arms and face were bleeding.

“Stop! Stop!” the man cried. “I didn’t hurt them!”

But how could the crows understand human words?

The poor woodcutter had no choice but to cover his head with his hands and slide down the trunk as quickly as he could. Somehow, he managed to escape and reach the ground.

He sat there, gasping for breath, his clothes torn and face scratched. Still, he didn’t curse them.

“They’re parents,” he whispered softly. “They thought I was the enemy. May God forgive them.”

He picked up his bundle of wood and began to walk home.

The Truth Revealed

When the crows finally reached their nest, they were shocked. Their babies were safe and unharmed—trembling, yes, but alive. The little ones chirped excitedly and began telling their parents everything in their bird language—how a black snake had come to eat them, and how the man had scared it away.

At that very moment, the parent crows saw the snake slithering away into the forest. The truth hit them like lightning.

They had attacked the very man who had saved their children.

Shame filled their hearts.

A Gift of Gratitude

The next morning, the woodcutter returned to the forest once again. His wounds had dried, but the memory of that misunderstanding still lingered. He reached the same banyan tree and began collecting wood nearby.

Suddenly, he heard the familiar cawing of crows above him. He looked up and saw the same pair of crows flying in circles over his head.

This time, they weren’t angry.

They gently descended, carrying something shiny in their beaks. One of them dropped it right in front of him—it was a beautiful pearl necklace, glowing under the sunlight.

The man was stunned.

He picked it up carefully, realizing it was worth more than anything he had ever owned.

The crows sat on a branch nearby, watching him. They cawed softly—as if to say, “We’re sorry. Thank you for saving our children.”

Tears welled in the woodcutter’s eyes. He looked up at the sky and whispered, “Thank You, God. You reward kindness in ways we can never imagine.”

He tucked the necklace safely into his pocket and walked home, his heart full of joy.

As he walked, the two crows flew above him—cawing not in anger, but in affection. They followed him all the way to the edge of the village, as though saying a warm goodbye to their friend—the poor woodcutter with a golden heart.


---

Moral of the Story:

Kindness never goes unrewarded. Even when misunderstood or unappreciated, good deeds have a way of returning to us—sometimes from the most unexpected places.