Trouble Tree

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You reckon our altar could work that same change in us.

Touble 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."