There was once a woodcutter who cut wood for a living.

One day, he lost his ax. He could not find it. He looked here and there, and it wasn’t to be found.

He looked at his neighbor’s son. It must be him again! He was still 7 years old, but the kid could be mischievous. Yes, the woodcutter convinced himself — the kid is capable of hiding my ax! He looked at the way the kid moved — the way he talk, the way he answered my questions, the way his eyes diverted when I asked, yes, I am almost sure he must be guilty.

I will confront him soon if he is not going to give it to me tomorrow! - the woodcutter thought.

The next day, on his way to the woods, he saw an ax strucked in a tree. Oh yes, that’s mine, he told himself. Then he remembered. Yesterday, while he was chopping wood, something diverted his attention, and he forgot he had left the ax there.

He retrieved the ax, and started to feel guilty. How could I have thought the kid got it?

When he arrived home, he looked at again at his neighbor’s son. He was playing around. He looked so cute! The way he greeted me, the way he laughed at the dirt in my clothes — yes, he was so playful, and the woodcutter remembered how the kid shared with him a piece of cake a week ago. How could I have thought that he was capable of hiding my ax?, he asked himself.

——

The kid had not changed. He moved the same way as yesterday. The woodcutter’s eye changed. He was viewing the kid based on his perceptions, and the same action evoked a different response…