Part 4 - How Neglect Revealed a Lack of Value

When I was 11, my father and mother became supported missionaries. They ran a summer camp for the boys and girls of New England to come hear "the Gospel" and "be saved."

We lived on site, so it was all-consuming for my father during the entire year, and all-consuming for my mother in the late Spring and during the Summer. Starting around the time when the camp leadership arrived, my parents would leave the house very early for the morning staff devotions (beginning at 6:00, and they would get there early). They would be gone from the house the entire day, often not coming home until very late at night (11 PM would be a good night, and 10 PM would be very good, but due to issues with various campers, it was not unheard of for them to be out until 3AM). They did not check to see if we had made it to bed when they got home.

During the morning, my younger siblings were in the camp's daycare for the children of the volunteers. I was too old for daycare, and usually slept until noon anyway. A few times, I went to visit my grandmother for 1-2 weeks, and a few times I went to visit friends of the family for one week out of the summer. My parents were home on Friday nights (usually) and Saturdays (usually). For the rest of the time, I was unsupervised and did as I pleased. Sometimes I tagged along with volunteer children, and one of my favourite memories is when my friends Anna and Melissa would come. Their mother would swim with us when she wasn't busy volunteering.   I'm grateful to her for all the love she showered on me when she visited, even helping me with a bee sting one day--I knew my own mother would take too long to find, and I am not sure she ever even knew. I was not allowed to "bother" the camp staff or the campers, so when no friends were visiting, I often went for walks in the woods to keep myself occupied.

One day, I took my dog for a walk. I decided to try a new trail and I got lost. I'll spare the details, but suffice it to say that hours later, I finally found my way out of the woods, tired, on the verge of tears, and relieved. My parents never knew.

Looking back, I am baffled. My younger siblings were unsupervised all afternoon. What did they do with their time? What did my older brother do with his time? The two oldest children were on the camp staff, so they were accounted for.

During the off-season, we traveled to different churches to "raise support," or in layman's terms, fundraise. I would sit and listen to my father's presentations to various churches about the lost children of our country. Then he would go on to prove how much God valued these children and contrast it with how little our society valued them. I distinctly remember thinking that he didn't value his own children, but I would never have expressed this.

It even made me feel unsafe to feel that way.