The Trouble Tree
I hired a carpenter to help me restore an old farmhouse. He had just
finished a rough first day on the job: a flat tire made him lose an
hour of work, the electric saw quit and now his ancient pickup refused
to start. While I drove him home, he sat in stony silence. On
arriving, he invited me to meet his family.
As we walked toward the front door, he paused briefly at a small tree,
touching the tips of the branches with both hands.
When opening the door, he underwent an amazing transformation. His
tanned face was wreathed in smiles and he hugged his two small
children and gave his wife a kiss.
Afterwards 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 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 the children. So I just hang them up on
the tree every night when I come 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."
--- Author Unknown --- Submitted by Jeff Pappas -- Texas
