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I hired a carpenter to help me restore an old farmhouse, and after he 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 stony
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 tips
of the branches with his 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.
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 I can’t help having troubles on
the job and in my life, 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 aren’t nearly as many as I
remember hanging up the night before.”
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