Trouble Tree

I hired a plumber 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 drill quit and his ancient one ton
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 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.

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, but one thing's for sure, those 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 and ask God to take care
of them. 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."