At the gate of the garden some stand and look within, but do
not care to enter. Others step inside, behold its beauty, but do not penetrate
far. Still others encircle this garden, inhaling the fragrance of the flowers,
but having enjoyed its full beauty, pass out again by the same gate. But there
are always some who enter, and becoming intoxicated with the splendor of what
they behold, remain for life to tend the garden. (‘Abdu'l-Baha)
Such a gardener was John David Bosch. And the flowers he
tended were the men, women and children in whose hearts he had, at one time or
another, planted the seeds of spiritual truth. When he spoke of spiritual
things and of Baha'u'llah, there was a light in his clear blue eyes that seemed
to be a reflection of a splendor that few others have had the joy of beholding,
and when he looked into the eyes of a fellow human being a glow of friendliness
lighted up his face, crinkled his eyes at the corners and brought a quick smile
to his lips.
Although there are many friends who remember him as a young
man and possibly somewhat different in appearance, most of us who knew him only
in his later years were sure that he must always have been a distinctive individual.
He was tall and straight. His hair was white and he wore a well-trimmed white
beard. In the summertime, when he dressed in his spotless white serge and Panama hat, he had the look of a
man of noble rank.