As a guitarist, I play many gigs.

Recently I was asked by a funer@l 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 back country.

As I was not familiar with the backwoods, I got lost.

I finally arrived an hour late and saw the funer@l 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 guitar 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 putting in septic tanks for twenty years.”

Apparently, I’m still lost.