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Trouble
Tree
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 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.
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 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 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
Last updated: 08/09/98
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