Recently I was asked by a funeral director
to play at a grave-side service for a homeless man. He
had no family or friends, so the service was to be at a
pauper's cemetery in the Kentucky back-country.
As I was not familiar with the
backwoods, I got lost; and being a typical man, I
didn't stop for directions. I finally arrived an hour
late and saw the funeral guy had evidently gone and the hearse
was nowhere in sight.
There were only the diggers and crew
left and they were eating lunch. I felt badly
and apologized to the men for being late. I went to the
side of the grave and looked down and the vault lid was already in
place. I didn't know what else to do, so I started to play.
The workers put down their lunches and
began to gather around. I played out my
heart and soul for this man with no family and friends. I
played like I've never played before for this homeless man.
And as I played "Amazing Grace" the workers began to weep.
They wept, I wept, we all wept together.. When I finished I
packed up my bagpipes and started for my car. Though my head
hung low, my heart was full.
As I was opening the door to my car, I heard one of the
workers say,
"Sweet Mother of Jesus. I never seen nothin' like that
before and I've been putting in septic tanks for over twenty years."
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