The Funeral

As a young minister in Kentucky, I was asked by a funeral director to hold a grave-side service for a homeless man, who had no family or friends.

The funeral was to be held at a new cemetery way back in the country, and this man would be the first to be buried there.

I was not familiar with the backwoods area, and I soon became lost.

Being a typical man, I did not stop to ask for directions.

I finally arrived an hour late.

I saw the backhoe and the open grave, but the hearse was nowhere in sight.

The digging crew was eating lunch.

I apologized to the workers for my tardiness, and I stepped to the side of the open grave.

There I saw the vault lid already in place.

I assured the workers I would not hold them up for long, as I told them that this was the proper thing to do.

The workers gathered around the grave and stood silently, as I began to pour out my heart and soul.

As I preached about "looking forward to a brighter tomorrow" and "the glory that is to come,"

the workers began to say "Amen," "Praise the Lord," and "Glory!"

The fervour of these men truly inspired me. So, I preached and I preached

like I had never preached before, all the way from Genesis to Revelations.

I finally closed the lengthy service with a prayer, thanked the men, and walked to my car.

As I was opening the door and taking off my coat, I heard one of the workers say to another,

"I ain't NEVER seen nothin' like that before, and I've been puttin' in septic tanks for thirty years!"