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Recently, I was asked by a funeral director to play at a graveside service for a homeless man. He had no known family or friends, so the service was to be at a pauper's cemetery in the Nova Scotia back country.
As I was not familiar with the backwoods, I got lost.
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 side of the grave and 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 or friends. Played like I never played before for this homeless man.
As I played Amazing Grace, the workers began to weep. They wept and wept. We all wept together.
When I finished, I packed up my bagpipes and started for my car. Though my head was hanging law, my heart was full.
As I opened the door to my car, I heard one of the workers say, "I never seen nothing like that before and I've been installing septic tanks for twenty years."
