A young minister was asked by a funeral director to hold a grave-side service for a homeless man, with no family or friends, who had died while traveling through the area.
The funeral was to be held at a new cemetery way back in the country, and this man would be the first to be laid to rest there. The young minister was not familiar with the backwoods area; became lost; and being a typical man did not stop for directions. He finally arrived, an hour late. He noticed the backhoe and the crew, who were eating lunch. The hearse was nowhere in sight.
He apologized to the workers for his tardiness, and stepped to the side of the open grave, where he saw the vault lid already in place.
He assured the workers he would not hold them long, but this was the proper thing to do. The workers gathered around, still eating their lunch.
He poured out heart and soul. As he preached the workers began to say ''Amen,'' ''Praise the Lord,'' and ''Glory,'' He preached, and preached, like he'd never preached before: from Genesis all the way to Revelations. He closed the lengthy service with a prayer and walked to his car. He felt he had done his duty for the homeless man, and that the crew would leave with a renewed sense of purpose and dedication, in spite of his tardiness.
As he was opening the car door, and taking off his coat, he overheard one of the workers saying to another, ''I ain't never seen anything like this before, and I've been putting in septic tanks for twenty years.''
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