The Trouble Tree

While I drove him home, he sat in stony silence. On arriving, he invited me 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.

Afterwards 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."