The carpenter I hired to help me restore an old farmhouse had just finished
a rough first 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 stoney silence. On arriving, he invited
me in 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.
After 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.
Afterward, he walked me to my 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 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 them
up, there aren't nearly as many as I remember hanging up the night before."
~Author unknown~
This site created by Beth with Peaceful River Design. Copyright 2002.
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