The Charcoal-Burner and the Fuller

The story

Once, a charcoal-burner lived in a small hut on a hillside, where smoke and ash hung in the air all year round. Each day he worked hard, burning thick logs into glossy black charcoal, and a fine layer of soot settled over everything inside and out, even the clay jars on his windowsill. He was a hardworking man, but his earnings never stretched far, and tending his fire alone left him feeling a little lonely.

One day he carried his basket of charcoal to the market to sell, and there he met an old friend, a fuller, whose trade was washing cloth clean and white. The fuller's hands were always pink from clear water, and in his stall hung freshly washed white cloths that billowed like little clouds in the breeze. Seeing his friend looking so clean and cheerful, the charcoal-burner had a sudden idea. "Why not come and live with me?" he said warmly. "Together we could share the cost of firewood and rent, and keep each other company in the evenings. Life would surely be easier for us both."

The fuller did not answer right away, only smiling that he would think it over. As he walked slowly home and passed through his own yard, he saw his white cloths swaying gently on the line in the afternoon breeze, as pure as freshly fallen snow. He paused to watch them for a moment, and a small worry began to grow in his heart.

By evening, he stood in his yard looking at the rows of snow-white cloth, and then he pictured the charcoal-burner's hut, the drifting black dust, the smoke curling from the kiln. If he moved in, he thought, a cloth freshly hung to dry might catch a layer of soot before it was even dry; a tub of clean water might soon be dusted with drifting ash. The more he thought about it, the more his brow furrowed.

The next morning, the fuller went specially to see the charcoal-burner and answered him gently but honestly. "I understand your kindness, but I am afraid this cannot work. Every day you labor to turn things black, while I labor to turn things white. Whatever I wash clean, it would not take long in your house before it turned dark again."

The charcoal-burner paused, then understood at once. Scratching his head, he laughed, "I see now — I didn't think this through. Forgive my hasty idea." The two friends smiled at one another, still just as close as before, but each returned to tending his own fire and his own clear water, carrying on with the work that was his to do.

From that day on, the charcoal-burner went on burning charcoal in his hut, and the fuller went on washing cloth in his yard — the white stayed white, and the black stayed black. But both men understood something new: even the best of friends should first look at whether their daily lives truly fit together, so that good intentions don't end up doing more harm than good.