OK, an old and, as my habit is, long one.
Note: This is a true story told to me, privately, by a mutual friend of
Jon and me. She asked not to be named.. or maybe it was not to name
Jon... I forget... anyway, here's the true story:
QUOTE
As a bagpiper, Jon played many gigs. Recently Jon 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 Nova Scotia back country.
As Jon was not familiar with the backwoods, he got lost and, being a typical man, he didn't stop for directions.
Jon 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. He felt badly and apologized to the men for being late.
He went to the side of the grave and looked down and the vault lid was already in place. Jon didn't know what else to do, so he started to play.
The workers put down their lunches and began to gather around. Jon played out his heart and soul for this man with no family and friends. He played like he'd never played before for this homeless man.
And as Jon played "Amazing Grace", the workers began to weep. They wept, he wept, they all wept together. When he finished, Jon packed up my bagpipes and started for his car. Though his head was hung low, his heart was full.
As he opened the door to my car, Jon heard one of the workers say, "I never seen anything like that before, and I've been putting in septic tanks for twenty years."
Apparently, Jon is still lost... it's a man thing.
I understand that
Jon no longer plays bagpipes... at least at funerals. We should be thankful for even little things!
