The Bagpipes

AS A piper, 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, and being a typical man, I didn’t stop for directions.



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 apologised 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 bagpipes
 and started for my car. Although 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 20 years.”

Apparently I’m still lost. It’s a man thing.