Subject: /Country Funeral
As a young minister, I was asked by a funeral director to hold a
grave-side service for a homeless man, with no family or friends. The
funeral was to be held at a cemetery way back in the country, and this
man would be the first to be laid to rest there.
As I was not familiar with the backwoods area, I became lost; and being
a typical man did not stop for directions. I finally arrived an hour
late. I saw the backhoe and the crew, who was eating lunch, but the
hearse was nowhere in sight.
I apologized to the workers for my tardiness, and stepped to the side of
the open grave, where I saw the vault lid already in place. I assured
the workers I would not hold them up for long, but this was the proper
thing to do. The workers gathered around, still eating their lunch. I
poured out my heart and soul.
As I preached the workers began to say "Amen," "Praise the Lord," and
"Glory"! I preached, and I preached, like I'd never preached before:
from Genesis all the way to Revelations.
I closed the lengthy service with a prayer and walked to my car.
As I was opening the door and taking off my coat, I overheard one of
the workers saying to another, "I ain't never seen anything like that
before and I've been putting in septic tanks for twenty years."
Correctional and Therapeutic Mayhem Administrator EMERITUS
GLOCK CERTIFIED ARMORER