From The Last Report on the Miracles at Little No Horse by Louise Erdrich, page 44:
It was nearly twilight before she rolled him in. Her heavy nightgown was his shroud. His clothing, his cassock, and the small bundle tangled about him, a traveler's pouch tied underneath all else, Agnes put on in the exact order he had worn them. A small sharp knife in that traveler's pocket was her barber's scissors - she trimmed off her hair and then she buried it with him as though, even this pitiable, he was the keeper of her old life.
It's Tuesday, Where Are You? is hosted by an adventure in reading.
I'm enroute to Ojibwe land to become, I believe, a rather unorthodox missionary.