Found in the comments section at Sondrakistan:
As a bagpiper, 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 Nova Scotia 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
apologized 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. Though 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 nothing like that before and
I’ve been putting in septic tanks for twenty years.”
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Play nice. None of you are too old for a spanking.