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 JANETTE, Ivor and Richard Bosanko. |
BY RICHARD BOSANKO –
Maybe we’ve all done it. The ‘we’ was being those of us who have parents who worked or still work for The Salvation Army.
There comes that time–the day we get asked that dreaded question–and for me it was the 6th grade. “Who does your Mom and Dad work for?”
I like to think of myself as somewhat imaginative at times, but I know at that dire moment, I was pretty imaginative. Dad was a lawyer, or a doctor, or if it was only to be a little lie, a concert pianist. Mum was probably a psychiatrist (and I still think she is sometimes), or a master chef. In junior high and high school I used lines like, “Mum teaches seminars, and Dad is a musician.” Anyway, I’m sure there are plenty of us out there who’ve been imaginative at that moment.
As a child in Philadelphia, where my folks and I first arrived in the U.S.A., I thought we lived in the White House. We had a massive house, which was white on the front with some large white pillars surrounding the front door. Unfortunately our backyard wasn’t the White House lawn, but that’s a different article. Well, I know this for sure; my Dad wasn’t the president of the United States of America. The president’s boss is the people of the United States. My Mum and Dad worked for the Lord.
My advice to those young people who might clam up when asked that same question I was asked 17 years ago? I can’t tell you what to say, but I can suggest that you be proud of your parent(s). I am certainly proud of my parents, and kids, it might take a while, but you’ll see what I’m talking about one day.
I hid behind a piano in the chapel at THQ on Thursday, September 27th, during the retirement chapel of my parents, and I cried. I almost got away with it, but I was called up to present a book of letters–letters from co-workers who thanked them for their service–service for God. I felt like that child in the 6th grade once again, but I knew things were right this time. I was proud.
Mum and Dad, I’d like to thank you for making me proud. I appreciate all the months you were away touching lives of people, and spreading the good word. I’d like to thank you for all the times I spent in cabins, with complete strangers at music camp, and for all the worrying flights that you’d take across the world to teach and perform. All the times you drove down the driveway of 922 Natchez St., while we waved goodbye for another week or two. Me hiding my tears till the garage door went down.
Thank you for your service.
Your boss would be proud.
Do your duty, shirk it never,
Leave the rest with God.
– Richard Slater
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