This just came to me as I dug the grave of a treasured family pet.

An old man was standing on a street corner in his village, giving money to passerby. Ater a while, a youth came up to him and asked him why he did so. The old man replied. My grandfather told me this… and now it is my time to see it true for me. When a man is gone from this world… it matters not the money which rots in his pocket, but rather, the depth to which his grave is dug by his fellow man. Men with gold rise and fall, men with respect will live three lifetimes.