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 a pauper's cemetery in
the Leicestershire 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 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 bad 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,
some dirt already covering the lid.
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 opened the door to my car, I heard one of the workers say, "I never
seen nothin' like that before and I've been putting in septic tanks for
twenty years."
