Recently I was asked by a funeral director to play
my bagpipes 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 rural Oregon.
I wasn't familiar with the mountain roads so I ended up
getting lost and, being a typical man, didn't stop to ask
for directions. I finally arrived an hour late and saw that
the funeral guy had already gone and the hearse was
nowhere in sight. The only ones left were the diggers
and crew and they were on their lunch break.
I felt badly and apologized to the men for being late. I went
to the side of the grave, looked down, and saw that 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.
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
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