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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 and his electric drill quit, his ancient one ton  truck refused to start. As 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. Upon opening the door he had undergone 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 at the  little tree.  "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 them up, there aren't  nearly as many as I remember hanging up the night before."