As a bagpiper, I play variety of gigs.
Recently I was asked by a minister to play at
a graveside service for a homeless man. He had no family or friends. All that was known about him is that he was a
Scotsman. He thought bagpipes would be
an appropriate farewell. The congregation had covered his burial expenses, but
asked if I would donate my services.
I said “I’d be honored to do this for a countryman.” and asked
the pastor for directions.
I wasn’t familiar with the backwoods roads to the church, I
got quite lost.
I finally arrived an hour late. The tiny church and it’s
ancient graveyard were there but the minister had evidently gone and the hearse
was nowhere in sight. A digger and its crew were the only ones left and they
were eating lunch.
I felt badly for being late. I went to the side of the grave
and looked down. The vault lid was in place. Some of the earth had already been
shoveled into the hole. 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 the
homeless Scot.
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.”
Apparently, I was still lost!
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