The spirit smiled and dove a third time. When she rose, she held his old iron axe. "Is this your axe?" she asked. "Yes! That is mine!" the woodcutter said joyfully, tears in his eyes. "Thank you, thank you!"

The spirit now holds a shining silver axe. The woodcutter still shakes his head, a small, sad smile on his face. The silver axe sparkles with moonlike light. Behind them, the river glimmers. The woodcutter’s posture is humble and honest.

Instead of a drawing, take a photo of three items lined up:

Once upon a time, a poor woodcutter lived near a great forest. Every day, he would cut wood from the trees and sell it at the market. Though he barely earned enough to feed his family, he never complained. His only possession of value was his old iron axe.