A country funeral

And Now . . . A Country Funeral Story

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 t he 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 fervor of these men truly inspired
me.
So, I preached and I preached like I had never preached before... all
the way from Genesis to Revelation.

I finally closed the lengthy service with a prayer, thanked the
men, and walked to my car. As I was opening the door a nd 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!"