Dust to Dust

Beverley has a flat, where some street people store their clothes. Peter stays with her. He guards the cars that park on the road shared by my church and the bank. And Peter and Beverly were friends with Sam.

Sam was born in the Transkei 53 years ago. After matriculating he headed for Cape Town, where he met his wife and made a living doing various jobs. Sam drank alcohol – lots of it. So much so that he lost many jobs. And he lost contact with his family because he did not want them to know of his predicament. When his wife died a few years ago he lost interest. He moved out of his rented accommodation and took up residence in a garage. Sam began drinking with Peter. And Beverley gave him a plate of food each evening. Then on 17 January, Sam’s heart stopped working. Beverley was devastated: “He cannot have a pauper’s funeral” she insisted. So she begged money from his current employer. And from me. And from anyone else who would listen. And put together enough to have Sam cremated.

Yesterday we held a service on the back lawn of my church....me, Beverley and Peter. They reminisced on his life. And I prayed a prayer of thanksgiving. And we sprinkled his ashes on the lawn and around the trees. And I pronounced a blessing.

Soyisile Sam Joni: be at Peace.