Renewed shall be Axe that was Broken

A few years ago I went up to the Yukon and Alaska for a holiday. I brought along a young college student of my aquaintance- I was originally going to go alone, but he asked if he could come and I was happy for the company. My friend was quite inexperienced at the outdoors life, so he learned a lot under the careful guidance of the Proto-Homie Bear. But I was a little leary about letting him use my axe. It's a pretty big axe.
One night I was chopping wood and he was bugging me to teach him how. "I dunno," I said, all sceptical. "These are kind of dangerous if you're not careful."
"Aww come on," he said, and many other words to that effect.
So I gave in, and taught him how to chop in such a way so as not to inadvertently amputate his own leg. When I figured he had the hang of it I told him I was just heading to the river to brush my teeth. Not five minutes later I return, and there he is holding my axe, freshly cloven in two.
"What did you do to my axe????!!!!" I exlaimed in horror.
Although he had managed not to hurt himself, he had hit the handle of the axe against the wood (or something), splitting it along the length of it.
And so I made do with a broken axe for a very long time. It could still chop wood, though poorly. And I was very sad, for I loved my axe.
Today, my axe was returned to me, reforged! My friend Sherry has access to a bonfire and an axe handle so she was kind enough to fix it for me. Then she brought it in to the coffee shop where I work to return it. I just happened to be visiting with some old Chilkoot Trail friends who had dropped in unexpectedly (yay! it was great to see your Mom, Erica!), so I propped the axe up against our table, right in front of the till. Many strange stares and comments ensued.
Anyone need any wood chopped?

The Woodless Again shall have Fire!