Old Timber Top

Old Timber Top

In a mountainous Korean province, where rivers roared in the valleys and pines and old chestnuts grew on the slopes, there lived a wealthy timber merchant.

People called him Old Timber Top.

Of course, he was not made of wood. But from morning to night, he thought of boards, logs, and money. Even a beautiful tree made him think only of how much it would sell for, rather than its shade, its birds’ nests, or its golden autumn leaves.

He had a large yard where stacks of boards lay. Carts brought in new logs, saws clinked, axes clanged, and Old Timber Top walked among the workers and counted the profits.

He knew how to work and trade, but nothing was ever enough for him.

When the cold winter came and poor families came to buy firewood, he was in no hurry to help.

“The price is what it is,” he would say. “If you don’t like it, look for something cheaper.”

Often, there was nowhere cheaper to go.

Worse still, he bought trees from families desperate for money. Some were old trees planted beside family graves and memorials. To their owners, they were almost members of the family. To the merchant, they were only valuable timber.

The villagers shook their heads.

“He grows richer and richer, yet never happier.”

And it was true.

The more Old Timber Top had, the more he wanted.

One day, being the richest merchant in his land was no longer enough for him.

“I’ll go to Seoul,” he decided. “My relative has an important place at court. He will help me get an honorable position. Then people will bow even lower to me.”

He imagined splendid robes, a broad hat, embroidered badges of office, and people stepping aside for him in the street.

He barely considered whether he had the knowledge, experience, or wish to help others that such a position would require.

In Seoul, his relative welcomed him politely. Old Timber Top settled into the great house and waited.

A week passed.

Then a month.

Then many more months.

He gave his relative gifts and compliments, always hoping:

“Tomorrow he will definitely say that a high position has been found for me.”

But tomorrow came and went.

Meanwhile, his business at home suffered. Without him, trade dwindled and money grew scarce. His family lost the comfortable life they had known.

Finally, Old Timber Top realized that he could wait no longer.

He went to his relative to say goodbye.

The relative listened to him calmly and only said:

“If you must go home, go home.”

Old Timber Top felt hurt.

“I stayed so long, brought so many gifts, and flattered him so often. Now he hasn’t even a kind word for me,” he thought as he walked away.

But it was then that something else first occurred to him:

“And didn’t I myself treat people the same way when they came to me for help?”

He did not ponder this idea for long, because in the evening a heavy downpour began.

The road turned to mud, his clothes were soaked, and the wind chilled him to the bone.

Finally, the traveler saw a small inn around the bend.

“Can I stay overnight?” he asked the hostess.

“Come in,” the woman replied. “You are completely soaked.”

She gave him a hot supper and a bed in the warmest room. Heat from the stove passed beneath the stone floor. Soon his clothes were dry and he was sound asleep.

He slept for a long time.

Meanwhile, the fairies, who liked to interfere in human affairs, already knew his story.

“He had a lot of money,” said one.

“But not enough gratitude,” added the second.

“We must give him a chance to see the world differently,” decided a third.

And four magic wands imperceptibly appeared near the bed.

When the Old Timber Top woke up, it seemed to him that the innkeeper was asking:

“Where is the ox that must go to the fair today?”

The traveler wanted to sit down, but suddenly he felt strange.

His legs became heavy.

His hands seemed to disappear.

Horns grew on his head.

He wanted to shout:

“What is happening?”

But all he heard was a loud:

“Mooo!”

The Old Timber Top turned into a large ox.

At first he was terribly scared.

Then he realized that he had retained human memory and thoughts.

They led him down the road to the fair. For the first time in years, he could neither give orders nor bargain nor demand anything. He simply walked, hearing the town’s morning bells, feeling the cold air, and thinking.

“This must be how it feels when no one asks what you want,” he thought.

He had to wait a long time at the fair.

“I used to make people wait outside my warehouse because it was profitable for me.”

Then they led him on.

“Yet that innkeeper fed me without knowing anything about my money or position.”

For some reason, this thought warmed him more than all the imaginary honors in Seoul.

On the way, the man leading him stopped beside a little turnip field and went to rest.

The ox saw green leaves right in front of his nose.

He was hungry.

He gently pulled up a turnip and ate its leaves, then its root.

And suddenly a miracle happened.

The horns began to shrink.

The hooves disappeared.

The front legs became hands again.

A few moments later, Old Timber Top was sitting by the road, human again.

He felt his head several times.

“No horns.”

He looked at his hands.

“My fingers are back.”

He stood up.

“And two legs! Wonderful!”

He laughed more heartily than he had in years.

And then he remembered:

“Wands and turnips. The wands change you; the turnips change you back.”

Old Timber Top could have just gone home. But curiosity got the better of him.

He returned to the inn, where the magic wands still stood in the corner.

He took them and set off back to Seoul.

“Let’s see if I really understand this secret,” he thought.

At his relative’s house, he asked to see him.

“I want to show you a strange thing,” he said.

Then he lightly touched his relative with the magic wands.

The relative did not become a real ox, but for a moment he had horns and his hands looked like hooves.

There was a commotion in the house.

Some called for doctors.

Others advised herbs.

Someone brought warm water.

Someone simply ran around the room and shouted:

“What shall we do?”

At first, Old Timber Top wanted to enjoy knowing the secret. Then he remembered how frightened he himself had been.

“Enough,” he said. “I know how to help.”

He bought a large fresh turnip, grated it and gave his relative a spoonful of the juice.

The horns disappeared.

The hands became hands again.

In a few seconds everything was as before.

Everyone gasped.

“Where did you learn that?” asked the relative.

Old Timber Top thought for a moment.

Previously, he would have made up a mysterious story to seem more important. But this time he told the truth.

“Nowhere. It is a magical lesson I nearly failed to learn myself.”

He told the story of his greed, his fruitless pursuit of a grand position, the inn, his transformation, and the turnip.

The relative was silent for a long time, and then he laughed.

“Then perhaps we should both think a little less of our own importance.”

Old Timber Top smiled.

“It seems so.”

He didn’t become a court physician or get a magnificent position.

Instead, he returned home.

First, he found his family and asked their forgiveness for leaving them so long to chase an empty dream.

Then he reopened his timber business and ran it differently.

In the winter he sold firewood at a fair price.

He no longer bought old memorial trees without a real need.

For every tree that had to be cut down, he ordered a new one to be planted.

Sometimes, he gave help freely to those who truly could not pay.

People were very surprised.

"Is this the same Old Timber Top?"

“It is,” the neighbors replied. “The tree in his head has finally put out leaves.”

And the fairies, hearing this, were pleased.

For the finest magical change is the one that happens in a person’s heart.

It comes when they begin to notice others and understand that true respect cannot be bought with money, a tall hat, or an important position.

May this story leave a little light in your heart ✨