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George: This hatchet is so sharp, father.

At night, after dinner, George’s mother asked him to chop some wood for the fire.

George: (excited) I can start right away, mother.

Father: No, go to bed now.

George couldn’t sleep through the night. He had dreams of chopping piles, mounds

and mountains of wood. He thought he would become a great woodcutter.

The next morning, George went out with his hatchet towards the little orchard.

George’s father was fond of the sweet apples, peaches, and pears that the trees gave.

He trimmed the branches and took great care of them.

But he gave special attention to the cherry tree. It was just a sapling when George’s

father had planted it. This year, there were flowers on its branches and his father

was hoping to see it laden with fruit. He was excited about the thought of cherry
pies being baked at home.

But George was preoccupied with his hatchet to really care for his father’s love for
the fruit trees. He went ahead and started chopping the cherry tree. Too late, he

recalled how fond his father was of the cherry tree. He ran towards the woodshed

and sat in a dark corner. A little while later, George’s father walked past the cherry

tree. He was disheartened to see its plight. When George went towards him, he saw
his father in anger.

Father: Do you know who cut down my cherry tree?

George: (taking a deep breath) I cannot tell a lie, father. I cut down your
cherry tree. I wasn’t careful with the hatchet, I am sorry.

Even though George’s father was disappointed that the cherry tree had been

damaged, he was proud of his son’s honesty.

Father: I am proud of you, George, for telling me the truth.

George: I promise I will never do this again.

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