A nice old man at my work passed away last week of cancer. Ray.
The following poem was in his funeral service.

Not how did he die, but how did he live?'
Not, what did he gain, but what did he give?
These are the units that measure the worth
Of a man, as a man, no matter his birth.
Not what was his church, nor what was his creed?
But had he befriended those really in need?
Was he ever ready, with word of good cheer,
To bring back a smile, to banish a tear?
Not what did the sketch in the newspapers say,
But how many were sorry when he passed away.
Anonymous