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."
