April 19, 2013

  • Civic Duty

    Got called for jury duty.  In 12 years here my husband has been called twice.  In my 12 years here I have been called 8 times.  Seems my name pops up on a regular basis.  Of course we have three courts to deal with (or maybe more).  County, District, and Federal.  I've been called for all three.  I have been selected for panels but never seated on a jury.  That's fine with me.  I just never want to get seated on a child abuse or child murder case.  I honestly don't think I could view evidence.  I'd be thinking the whole time... string 'em up.   But it's always a good thing to do your duty so I show up along with the other 600+ people that day.  (They call an average of 750 people 5 days a week here in Houston for jury duty.... it's a huge process)

     

    Which reminded me of this moving story of a man serving that I read on Facebook.  Moving and well worth sharing.

     

    As a guitarist, 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 back country.

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

    Ken is in New Mexico visiting his dad. The girls, their husbands and kids will be in Galveston. Jill is in Oklahoma with her kids so it is just Aaron and I here on our own. He's talking doing some work on his house. I need to transplant blueberry bushes if it stops raining. I think it will be a very quiet weekend.