Career Opportunity

By Bob Hansen

As I mentioned in my last column, young people, including my kids, sometimes have difficulty deciding on their life’s work. In my experience, most parents are willing to help when they see their children languishing over such decisions. Many suggest that their kids become doctors or lawyers. These occupations are known to be high income producing. Maybe the hope is that the children will lavish much of their income on their parents, thus expressing deep gratitude for all their parents have done for them.

Since so many parents are directing their offspring in those areas, I suspect there will soon be a glut of doctors and lawyers. And so I have devised the perfect occupation for at least one of my children. The opportunity is in a new field with an abundance of untapped profit potential.

This isn’t just a whim on my part. I’ve broken it down and thought it through. Take the availability of raw materials, for instance. In this case, there is a more-than-ample supply. In fact, the material required seems to fall from the sky like rain. Then it just lies there on the ground, waiting to be picked up. Yes, you’ve guessed it. I’m speaking of apples.

This business idea came to me when my mother-in-law visited last fall. While here, she made a batch of applesauce. It was so delicious that I thought, “We should market this.” It’s been done with home recipes for cookies—why not for applesauce? It is a versatile food—wonderful eaten alone. And who doesn’t like applesauce with pork roast?

I’ve been experimenting and have concluded that it goes equally well with roast beef, and turkey. I’ve tried it with chicken. I’ve tried it on toast instead of jam. Wonderful in both cases. The possible applications of “Hansen’s Homemade Applesauce” are endless. I envision a huge factory pumping out a continuous river of the stuff.

That’s my story of how I determined that one of my children should become an applesauce salesman.

Needless to say, my three oldest, all sons, immediately took to the business idea. However, their very enthusiasm created a problem. How would it be decided who would receive this high privilege? I stepped in and took control of the situation before it came to blows. I was just about to have them pick a number between one and ten, when I thought of an even better method, a time-tested approach. I granted the oldest son the first opportunity.

It was then that I realized what fine manners my children have. For my oldest said, “Thank you, oh great Father, for this opportunity, but I will defer to my younger brother.”

A magnanimous gesture, one to make a father nearly burst with pride.

The second eldest beamed his appreciation to his older brother and spoke, “I would be honored to take the reigns of what is sure to be a highly successful business. But what kind of brother would I be if I acted so selfishly? My conscience would not let me to sleep at night if I did not allow the privilege to go to my younger brother.”

The third in line bowed, out of respect, to his two elders. “I feel wonderfully blessed to have two such fine examples after which to pattern myself. And I thank you for your kind consideration. However, I feel that I am too young and inexperienced in life to take full advantage of the opportunity. I wouldn’t want to disgrace the family name. I humbly suggest my oldest brother be the one.”

Again, pride welled up in me, causing a lump in my throat. What fine children I have.

In the end, this fine idea joined a splendid collection of others ideas that my children haven’t taken to with the appropriate gusto.

As a parent I can’t help but feel I know what’s best for my children. And I find that such feelings span across the years of their childhood, into the time when they are called “adults.” My children seem to think that the passage of years changes our relationship, in so far as decision-making goes.

I reject this concept—until I must accept it. What comfort do I have in all this? What assurance that all will be well without my guiding hand?

It comes to mind that God is a father, a loving one who sees, who cares. I suppose I could hand over the reins to him. He is trustworthy, after all. Then it occurs that this isn’t such a big leap. As we commit our infants to his care, he answers our prayer. We forget, and don’t always see his activity in their lives. But he has been there all along. And he will continue. Praise His glorious name.

Bob Hansen writes from Chehalis, Washington.