R.I.P.

BrendaCloutier

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, who
had died while traveling through the area. 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 I did not stop for directions. I finally arrived an
hour late. I saw the crew, 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 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. I felt
I had done my duty for the homeless man and that the crew would leave
with a renewed sense of purpose and dedication, in spite of my
tardiness.

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 this
before.. and I've been putting in septic tanks for twenty years."

R.I.P.

BrendaCloutier

Double Edge

AuldSoul

Calliope

starstuff

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