Long ago, on a cold New Year's Eve, a kind old man and his wife sat in their tiny farmhouse. The snow fell thick outside, and their rice jar was empty. "I will go to the village and sell straw hats," said the old man. "Then we can buy rice cakes to celebrate the New Year."
The old woman helped him stack five straw hats he had carefully woven. "Take care in the snow, dear," she said, tying his straw rain cape tightly. He smiled, patted her hand, and set off down the mountain path, his breath making little clouds in the freezing air.
At the village market, people hurried past with their arms full of holiday food and decorations. "Straw hats! Fine straw hats!" called the old man. But everyone already had what they needed, and not a single person stopped to buy. As evening came, he turned sadly for home with all five hats still on his back.
The snow fell harder as he trudged up the mountain path. Through the swirling white, he spotted six stone Jizo statues standing in a row by the roadside. Snow had piled high on their heads and shoulders, and their gentle stone faces looked so cold.
"Oh, you poor Jizo! You must be freezing," said the old man softly. One by one, he placed his straw hats on the statues' heads to keep the snow off. He had only five hats for six statues, so he took off his own hat and placed it on the last one.
"There," he said, bowing to each statue. "Happy New Year, dear Jizo." Then he walked the rest of the way home through the snowstorm with nothing on his head, the cold wind biting his bare ears.
His wife met him at the door. When he told her what he had done, she did not scold him. Instead, she clapped her hands and smiled. "What a kind thing to do! The Jizo must have been so cold. We can celebrate New Year with just hot water and gratitude."
That night, as the old couple slept beneath their thin quilt, a strange sound woke them — heavy footsteps crunching through the snow, coming closer and closer, along with deep, rumbling voices singing a New Year's song.
THUMP! Something enormous was set down outside their door. The singing faded into the snowy night. The old man peeked outside and gasped. There, in the moonlight, he saw the six Jizo statues walking slowly back up the mountain path, their straw hats dusted with snow.
On the doorstep sat a magnificent treasure — sacks of white rice, towers of fresh mochi rice cakes, golden coins, and beautiful New Year's decorations. The old man and his wife cried happy tears, bowing again and again toward the mountain. They celebrated the most wonderful New Year of their lives, and they never went hungry again.
