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This is intended for the younger guys particularly with kids. Trading can be
stressfull!
George
-----Original Message-----
From: Pecosa1 <Pecosa1@xxxxxxx>
Date: Tuesday, April 28, 1998 6:41 PM
Subject: The Trouble Tree
>
>
> The Trouble 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 my 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
them
>up, there aren't nearly as many as I remember hanging up the night before."
>
>
>
From: Patica <Patica@xxxxxxx>
Return-path: <Patica@xxxxxxx>
To: Pecosa1@xxxxxxx
Subject: Fwd: The Trouble Tree
Date: Tue, 28 Apr 1998 18:23:33 EDT
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From: Flame mom <Flamemom@xxxxxxx>
Return-path: <Flamemom@xxxxxxx>
Subject: The Trouble Tree
Date: Tue, 28 Apr 1998 12:28:38 EDT
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> The Trouble 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 my 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
> them up, there aren't nearly as many as I remember hanging up the
> night before."
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