Trouble Tree

 
     The carpenter I hired had just finished a rough first day on the job.  A flat tire made him an hour late for work, his electric saw quit and now his old pickup truck refused to start.  
      While I drove him home, he sat in stony silence.  On arriving, he invited me in to meet his wife.  As we walked toward the front door, he paused briefly at a tree in his front yard, touching the tips of the branches with both hands.
      After opening the door to his home, he underwent an amazing transformation. His aged face become bright. He hugged and kissed his wife with a smile in his eyes as that of a carefree child. 
      Afterward, he walked me to my car.  We passed the tree and my curiosity got the best of me. I asked him about what I had seen him do earlier.
      "Oh, that's my trouble tree," he said.  "I know I can't help having troubles on the job, but one thing is for sure, those troubles don't belong in my home.  So I just hang them up on  that 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 there the night before. 
 Author unknown

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