Once upon a time, in a little village close to a big, bouncy forest, there lived a poor but perky woodcutter. From dawn till dusk, he chopped and sawed, working hard to support his dear family.

One bright day, while the woodcutter was whistling a tune and chopping away, chop chop chop, his ax slipped from his hand and splish-splash landed in the deep, rushing river.

Oh dear, he thought! Without my ax, how will I work and earn bread? Feeling glum and gloom, he sat by the river, pondering his plight.

Just then, with a whoosh and a swirl, a shimmering angel appeared above the water. The angel had a twinkling smile and wings that sparkled like stars.

"Oh noble woodcutter, why do you sigh?" asked the angel in a voice as soft as the wind's gentle hum. The woodcutter explained his loss, feeling shy yet hopeful.

With a nod, the angel dove into the river and emerged with a gleaming golden ax. "Is this your ax?" the angel asked curiously.

The woodcutter's eyes widened, but he shook his head. "No, dear angel, that's not my ax. Mine is plain and old."

So the angel splashed in again and returned with a silver ax, shining bright like the moon. "Is this your ax then?"

The woodcutter again shook his head. "No, no, honest angel, mine is not silver. It’s a regular ax, simple and true."

Puzzled, the angel took one last dive and reappeared with the woodcutter's own worn ax. "Is this your ax?"

The woodcutter's face lit up with joy. "Yes, yes! That's my ax!" he cried, his heart brimming with happiness.

The angel beamed and said, "For your honesty, you shall keep all three axes." The woodcutter thanked the angel, his heart as light as a feather, and returned home with three gleaming treasures.