Nebraska Synod ELCA

by Amy Buch

Years ago, my husband, a funeral director, was attending a graveside service. Typically, funeral directors sit quietly at the back, their attention often drifting as the stories blend together over time. However, on this particular day, one story caught his attention. A loved one of the deceased was recounting the memory associated with a worn-out, upside-down seed cap filled with acorns placed on the table in front of the crowd gathered to celebrate the life of a man whom they loved.

The cap’s owner was known for carrying acorns, generously offering them to anyone willing to accept. He was, literally and figuratively, planting seeds of kindness and cultivating love through creation in his unique way with everyone he encountered. After the service, attendees were invited to take acorns as mementos. Many were left, and my husband took five of them when offered. He tucked them into his pocket to later research how to grow oak trees. Over the next several years, he learned how to successfully stratify the seeds—”tricking” them by placing them in the refrigerator—and raised many oak trees that he gifted to neighbors and friends in memory of a man he never met.

Fast-forward several years. My husband, now working at a different funeral home, was tasked with conducting a graveside service at the same cemetery where the previous service had occurred. He began to prepare for the service, pondering the message he would share with the family and friends. As he stepped onto his porch when he arrived home, he noticed the last acorn tree of the year’s crop. One tree. He sensed it was a sign, indicating the message he needed to share.

On the day of the graveside service, while contemplating how to weave the story of the oak tree into his words, he looked up from his notes and noticed the gravestone of the gentleman who had worn the tattered seed cap and given away acorns. At that moment, everything fell into place. The message in his mind was loud and clear: God has placed us on earth to care for one another and His creation. Our loved ones, friends, and neighbors are always watching us, making our story live well past our life on this earth. People will remember you long after you are gone. Perhaps it will be a funeral director you have never met, picturing you wearing a seed cap and passing out acorns as he plants another crop of oak trees.

This story was written by Amy Buch as told by her husband, Marshall Buch. Amy is the Communications Manager at your Nebraska Synod office.