Return to Home Page Return to Poems Index   The Trouble Pile - "Where do you go today, old man. With that great load there on your back?" The old man just grumbled as he hobbled a long Holding Tight to the bulging sack. - "I say, old man, " cried the boy again "Do you carry a sack of gold?" "Nay, lad," the old man whispered. "Tis just troubles--that's all I hold." "This sack I've carried, all my life Each trouble I've had is here. They've grown till now, my back grows bent With every passing year. - "There's grief and pain, there's hurt and woe, There are trials and sins galore But I'm going now to the trouble pile and I won't pack these no more." - The boy looked up with a troubled glance. "Tell me, what's the trouble pile? I'd like to know, and while we talk You can sit and rest a while." - "I lack the time," the old man said, I've got to rush along. I want to get to the trouble pile "Fore the little troubles are gone. - "You see, it's a place where all can go To trade troubles great and small You can leave yours there and pick new ones up. Why, I'll trade 'till I've none at all." - The boy glanced down at his twisted leg, And he blinked to hold back a tear. "Could I trade this leg for a good one," he asked, "If the trouble pile was here?" - "Of course, you could," the old man was gruff. "But there's still a long way to go. I've got to hurry or I'll be late, And crippled you'd be too slow." - So the boy sat down and watched the man, Disappear in the morning light, The hours wore on and still he watched As the day moved on to night. - At last, there in the distance, The old man walked tall and strong, A bulging sack still on his back, But on his lips, a song. - "I see you trader, mister, And lost your heavy load, His little voice grew wistful As he looked back down the road. - The old man grinned and tossed his bag With a thud, in the dusty track. And he smiled a smile at the little boy As he sat and leaned lazily back. - "Now, I'll tell you, lad, though you'll not believe-- But that sack is the same as I had. When I saw the troubles of other folks. I found mine not half so bad. - "Sure, I've hardly got a trouble now, And I'll tell you something too-- If you could see that trouble pile, You'd keep that bad leg too. - "Cause I've done a bit of thinking As I walked along the way. And if we worked hard on that leg of yours It would grow straight and strong to stay, - "Now I've really nothing much to do And a crutch I could make for a start." Then he hugged the boy to hide a tear, And the joy in and old man's heart. - So the boy and the man worked together, From morning to the last light of day, And the twisted leg finally was straightened, And the boy could soon run and play. - It was then the old man knew he must leave, And again he shouldered his sack, But no longer did it bulge with his troubles-- It just hung there loose on his back! -  For while he was helping another. His own troubles faded away, He had truly found the trouble pile, It's there if you look for the way.