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 Queensland back
country. As I was not familiar with the bush, I got lost and, being a
typical man, I didn't stop for directions. I finally arrived over an
hour late and saw that 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 and earth covered most of it. 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 poor, 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 nothin' like that before and I've been puttin' in septic
tanks for twenty years."