Guitartist
As
a guitarist, 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 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 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
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 guitar 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’m still lost…
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