The carpenter I hired to help me restore an old farmhouse
had just finished a rough day on the job. A flat tire
made him lose an hour of work. His electric saw quit,
and now his ancient pickup truck refused to start.
While I drove him home, he sat in stony
silence.
On arriving, he invited me in to meet his family. As
we walked toward the front door, he paused briefly at
a tall tree, touching tips of the branches with both
hands. When opening the door, he underwent an amazing
transformation. His tanned face was wreathed with smiles
and he hugged his two small children and gave his wife
a kiss.
Afterward he walked me to the car. We passed the tree
and my curiosity got the better of me. I asked him about
what I had seen him do earlier.
"Oh, that's my trouble tree" he replied.
"I know that I can't help having troubles on the
job, but one thing's for sure. Troubles don't belong
in the house with my wife and children. So I just hang
them up on the tree every night when I get home. Then
in the morning I pick them up again. "Funny thing
is," he smiled, "when I come out in the morning
to pick 'em up, there ain't nearly as many as I remember
hanging up the night before."
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