Chapter 28

“Along time ago, before this town was here, a huge forest stood in its place. In that forest, there was a poor woodcutter who lived next to a rich woodcutter,” began Comfort. “The rich woodcutter could afford anything he wanted, but he never shared with the poor woodcutter. The rich woodcutter was a selfish, proud, and vain man. In contrast, the poor woodcutter was humble and honest, and had to work hard all day just to provide enough for his family to eat.

“One day, the poor woodcutter was out chopping wood and heard a tiny cry for help. He searched all around until he found a small fairy, trapped beneath a stone. “Help me, good man!” pleaded the fairy, “And I will grant you any wish you want!”

“And so, the poor, honest woodcutter freed the fairy. When the fairy asked what he would wish for, he said he had everything he wanted. Enough food to eat and a wife who loved him. The fairy saw that he had a good heart, and put a spell on a nearby tree. The fairy told the poor woodcutter that the tree would always grant any person who was honest and good the righteous desires of their hearts, if they would but put forth their hand to ask.

“The fairy disappeared, and the poor woodcutter wondered if what the fairy said was true. He wished for a new ax, as his own was old and dull. He reached into the tree, and pulled out an axe made of solid gold.

“He rushed into town and sold the axe for a great deal of money. He bought new clothes for himself and his wife, plenty of good food, and a new shiny steel axe. Then he brought the rest of the money home to his wife, and the celebrated their good fortune. From then on, any time that he or his wife, who was just as good as he was, wanted for anything, they would visit the tree and pull out whatever it was that they wanted.

“Now, the rich, greedy woodcutter could hardly fail to notice his neighbor’s good fortune. And instead of being glad for the honest old man and his wife, this wicked woodcutter wanted only to have their riches for himself. So, he went to his neighbor and pretended to be glad for their newfound wealth, and asked how it was that their luck had turned at last.

“The honest woodcutter, suspecting nothing, told his neighbor all about the tree and how to get whatever he wanted by simply reaching his hand into the trunk to retrieve it. The rich woodcutter set off immediately, determined to procure riches even greater than his honest neighbor. He found the tree exactly where the old man had described, and reached out his hand, wishing to have more money than his neighbor.

“Unbeknownst to the woodcutter, the fairy had also put another spell on the tree. That whoever would stretch forth their hand but was wicked at heart and undeserving, would be cursed or killed. And so instead of the fabulous treasures he was expecting, the selfish woodcutter found only a deadly snake, which struck immediately and then slithered away as the man slowly died.”

Comfort ended the story.

“That sounds like a fairy tale Father would have enjoyed telling,” I said. I could imagine Father in my mind’s eye, acting out the story, imitating the facial expressions for the honest and hardworking woodcutter, and the greedy, self-centered woodcutter.

“I thought so too.”

“I think it a good story,” said Cynthia. I jumped. I had forgotten she was there. It had seemed like Comfort and I were gathered around with our parents for an evening of music and stories again. Cynthia’s presence was a sharp reminder of how much things had changed. “People should be rewarded for good deeds and punished for bad.”

“That is a bold statement coming from you after everything that happened yesterday,” Comfort sneered.

Cynthia’s face crumpled.

“Comfort!” I said sharply. Just when Cynthia and I had finally had a positive interaction, Comfort had come along and ruined it.

“Forget I said anything then,” Cynthia said haughtily, and quickened her pace to walk beside her father.

“Comfort,” I implored. “Can’t you be nice? I thought she was supposed to be your best friend.”

“Not anymore!” Comfort’s voice came out much harsher than I was used to. “She thinks she is so much better than everyone else. Don’t you remember what she said to you?”

“I don’t think I’ll forget in a hurry,” I retorted. “But give her a break. Our parents getting married is a lot to process, and I don’t think she meant what she said yesterday. Admit it, the makeup job I did on myself wasn’t flattering.”

Comfort snickered. “Okay, you’ve got me there. It could’ve been improved.”

“A lot!”

“Yes, it could have,” she agreed. “But no matter what someone looks like, what matters most is the person they are. It matters if they are kind and forgiving, like Mother. Or if they are funny and smart and helpful like you.”

“Just like in the enchanted tree story?” I teased her. “Are you saying I am a poor but honest woodcutter?”

Comfort laughed. “Precisely! And Cynthia is like the—”

“No she isn’t!” I cut off Comfort, knowing exactly what she was about to say. “Besides, maybe if we are really nice, maybe she will make us some of that flaming pudding you told me about. I wouldn’t say no to that.”