This morning I went to a funeral. The deceased was my neighbor and friend, Mr. Howard, who passed away earlier this week.
Mr. Howard was well respected in the community and the church was packed with mourners. There were several who gave eulogies but the most honest was one given by a tall, thin, older black gentleman named Raymond, whom I also know. Ray owns a small acreage where he grows vegetables and fruit but earns most of this wages working for Mr. Howard.
Raymond approached the pulpit dressed in a worn suit, a shirt that could have used a little more ironing and a tie that had been tied more times than I can imagine. He nervously cleared his throat and began. I will try to paraphrase what he said.
"Some of you folks here know me. For those who don't, I've worked for Mr. Howard for almost thirty years now. Mr. Howard was more than just my boss he was my friend. If it weren't for him, I wouldn't be standing in front of you today. When I came out here as a younger man I had no skills and no direction in life. I also had a wife, a young-un and another on the way. I needed a job in the worst way.
Mr. Howard gave me a job on his ranch even though I had no experience. Mr. Howard was a tough man to work for but he was a fair man. The work was hard, the hours long and I often though about throwing in the towel but Mr. Howard, he kept encouraging and pushing me on. Over the years he taught me all that I know about ranching and he gave me something I never knew I could have, pride in myself and in my accomplishments.
Now some of you may remember my wife, Esther. If you didn't know her personally then maybe you remember seeing her. For years Esther sold our vegetables and fruits from the back of an old pickup truck that she parked on the town square.
When Esther went to the Lord unexpectedly some years back, I was at a low in life. I barely had two nickels to rub together. I didn't own a burial plot and there was no money for a decent funeral or even a respectful coffin.
Mr. Howard saw the ache in my heart. Without bruising my pride he offered the money for a proper funeral. He said that I could repay him when I was ready. Over the years, not one time, never, did he bring up the subject again.
Since that time, I have put away what I could, when I could, so that someday I would be able to pay back his generosity. Today I am ready to repay Mr. Howard. The only problem now is that Mr. Howard has gone to Jesus. The debt I owe is still with me."
Raymond removed an envelope from his old suit jacket, looked over at the widow and said, "Mrs. Howard, would you do me a favor and take this for your husband."
Raymond walked from the podium to where the deceased's wife sat on the front row. He bowed slightly and handed the envelope to her. There was a smattering of soft applause from some members of the congregation.
The widow motioned to Raymond and he leaned down. She took his hand in hers and whispered something in his ear. When he stood up straight again, she gave the envelope back to him. The entire church was in complete silence. The only sound was Raymond's footsteps as he made his way back down the aisle. I nodded to him as he passed and he returned the nod. I saw that there were tears in his eyes.
I don't know what the widow said to Raymond and I will never ask. What was said should be left between the two of them. What is obvious to me, and I think to the congregation, is that in her graciousness the widow forgave his debt.
Mr. Howard was well respected in the community and the church was packed with mourners. There were several who gave eulogies but the most honest was one given by a tall, thin, older black gentleman named Raymond, whom I also know. Ray owns a small acreage where he grows vegetables and fruit but earns most of this wages working for Mr. Howard.
Raymond approached the pulpit dressed in a worn suit, a shirt that could have used a little more ironing and a tie that had been tied more times than I can imagine. He nervously cleared his throat and began. I will try to paraphrase what he said.
"Some of you folks here know me. For those who don't, I've worked for Mr. Howard for almost thirty years now. Mr. Howard was more than just my boss he was my friend. If it weren't for him, I wouldn't be standing in front of you today. When I came out here as a younger man I had no skills and no direction in life. I also had a wife, a young-un and another on the way. I needed a job in the worst way.
Mr. Howard gave me a job on his ranch even though I had no experience. Mr. Howard was a tough man to work for but he was a fair man. The work was hard, the hours long and I often though about throwing in the towel but Mr. Howard, he kept encouraging and pushing me on. Over the years he taught me all that I know about ranching and he gave me something I never knew I could have, pride in myself and in my accomplishments.
Now some of you may remember my wife, Esther. If you didn't know her personally then maybe you remember seeing her. For years Esther sold our vegetables and fruits from the back of an old pickup truck that she parked on the town square.
When Esther went to the Lord unexpectedly some years back, I was at a low in life. I barely had two nickels to rub together. I didn't own a burial plot and there was no money for a decent funeral or even a respectful coffin.
Mr. Howard saw the ache in my heart. Without bruising my pride he offered the money for a proper funeral. He said that I could repay him when I was ready. Over the years, not one time, never, did he bring up the subject again.
Since that time, I have put away what I could, when I could, so that someday I would be able to pay back his generosity. Today I am ready to repay Mr. Howard. The only problem now is that Mr. Howard has gone to Jesus. The debt I owe is still with me."
Raymond removed an envelope from his old suit jacket, looked over at the widow and said, "Mrs. Howard, would you do me a favor and take this for your husband."
Raymond walked from the podium to where the deceased's wife sat on the front row. He bowed slightly and handed the envelope to her. There was a smattering of soft applause from some members of the congregation.
The widow motioned to Raymond and he leaned down. She took his hand in hers and whispered something in his ear. When he stood up straight again, she gave the envelope back to him. The entire church was in complete silence. The only sound was Raymond's footsteps as he made his way back down the aisle. I nodded to him as he passed and he returned the nod. I saw that there were tears in his eyes.
I don't know what the widow said to Raymond and I will never ask. What was said should be left between the two of them. What is obvious to me, and I think to the congregation, is that in her graciousness the widow forgave his debt.
