As a bagpiper, I play many gigs.
Recently I was asked by a funeral director to play at a
graveside service for a homeless man. He had no family
or friends, so the service was to be at the pauper's cemetery
in Nova Scotia 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 digger crew left --- and
they were eating lunch. I felt badly and apologized
to the men for being late.
I went down 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 my heart and soul 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 was hung low, my heart was full.
As I opened the door to my car, I heard one of the
workers say, "I never saw anything like that before,
and I've been putting in septic tanks for twenty years."
Apparently, I'm still lost....it's a man thing.