COPING WITH BREAKING THE SILENCE -
 LETTERS FROM MISSIONARY PARENTS

To my daughters and to all MK victims (sons or daughters) everywhere:

I write this letter because I am reaching the end of my life and I have failed to make a difference in any other way. I have a story to tell, a story of pain and searching, of questions without answers, of faith tested to the breaking point, and now, of an overpowering need to open my heart and my arms to you, my daughters, and to any victims whose parents are not involved in the process of healing.

Background is necessary for those who do not know us. In 1958 our family (my late husband and our three daughters) answered a call from our church, the Church of the Brethren, to serve on the Nigerian mission field. My husband's father was a co-founder of that mission in 1922, and so we felt greatly honored to follow in his footsteps.

Since our daughters were young, their schooling was not an issue during our first term. I home schooled them for kindergarten and first grade, but then in 1962, both of the older ones were sent to Hillcrest Boarding School in Jos, several hundred miles west from our location in the "bush." My heart ached as I watched the lorry or van depart each time for Hillcrest; but we had chosen this path for Christ. The fact that we completely trusted the staff at Hillcrest and were comforted by the knowledge that all the other children were going (this was simply what was done without questioning) made the "sacrifice" of sending our children away more bearable. After all, God had called us. With our children gone, we were free to do His work in the field.

All seemed well when we visited Hillcrest, and the girls never resisted openly going back after vacations at home or our visits to them. But, looking back, I know there were small warnings along the way. Report cards were sometimes "less than," and notes from teachers and house parents indicated occasional problems. I did not always agree with the punishment meted out, but how could I complain when these God-called houseparents/ministers/ teachers were caring for so many children (our children)and having to deal with all of the issues involved in raising them?

In 1965, we returned home permanently. Our family readjusted to life in the U.S. without serious problems; we continued to do deputation work explaining the program of the mission, and we gratefully received our service commendation plaque from church headquarters.

My daughters became adults, moved away and began their own families. Then, in 1991, the oldest was hospitalized for severe depression. During intensive therapy, her memories were unlocked and the pieces of the puzzle which, she said, had always been missing and had haunted her, fell into place: they included the mental pictures of sexual, physical, and emotional abuse by the Hillcrest houseparent/minister. When her younger sister heard the story, she said that she had always had these memories but she told no one because she thought we would not believe her. And so, 30 years too late, I heard the truth.

Can a life be torn apart in one brief moment? Mine was. I had had no inkling of infractions at Hillcrest and I had always been cheered (relieved of guilt?) by our daughter's claim that her years at Hillcrest were the happiest of her life.

My immediate reaction was to contact the church officials - not only of Church of the Brethren, but also of the Brethren Church, because the perpetrator was a member of that denomination. An "investigation" followed when we met with one of the Church of the Brethren officials. We submitted all of my daughters' psychiatric records. A Brethren Church official met with the perpetrator, who denied everything. These men tried to allay my fears of additional abuse by this offender by saying he was now (back in the States) pastor of a small church of mainly elderly people. What about his grandchildren, I asked. I was assured he was never alone with them!

The conclusion came in a letter from our church authorities expressing regret for these incidents, which, they stated, MAY have happened. I had no heart to pursue it legally; my daughters were trying to heal, with the help of medication and therapy, and so we obediently listened to the church as they told us in essence to "get on with our lives.".

This we did.

But healing did not come. Further depression, physical illness, broken relationships, suicide attempts, loss of work, loss of faith, and endless unanswered questions plagued us.

We had spent a small fortune on therapy and medication, and so in 2001, I approached the churches again, asking for help with expenses related to the Hillcrest experience. My request was met with the assertion that these problems were ours - and perhaps Hillcrest's - but the churches had no responsibility; the events had occurred years ago and in a foreign country. Hillcrest refused to communicate with us. Finally, I retained a lawyer, and after several rounds of communication among both churches' lawyers and ours, we were warned that our case had no merit, and any expense incurred would be up to us. Again, the wall descended in front of us and I dismissed my lawyer.

My daughters, totally disillusioned now, urged me to give up. For me it had not ended, though. I was determined to have our current story heard by a church official, and finally, in February 2004, I found one who said she would listen: the Director of Ministry of the Church of the Brethren. She graciously set up a meeting in our home for April 13, and for the first time since 1991, I felt true hope. On April 9, I received a terse e-mail from her saying she could not meet with me because I had retained legal counsel. Immediately I assured her that I had dismissed my lawyer a year previously, but she did not reply. I have written to her four times since then, with no response.

I do not believe I will hear - ever. The church's fear is palpable. How could they listen to me? Help me? Others might hear of it and seek help, too. (We know of at least six other children in our denomination who were molested at the same time, but only one of them - and no parents - wished to become involved.) Perhaps the church fears financial bankruptcy. Is not spiritual bankruptcy worse?

And so, this is our story. I have given up on the church. I wish to address the ones who truly matter - my own daughters and the other daughters and sons who have been victims of abuse on any mission field at any time.

**********************************

My children:

There are no words to describe the agony I have lived with every day since learning the truth. In my mind, I see you, trusting, obedient, blindly giving in to the demands of the perpetrator. I see you enduring the punishments, the humiliation, the terror. I am watching as you are made to sit in the dark closet, as you are forced to watch the torture of little animals. I can feel your fear as he approaches your bed, as he "inspects" your body at bath time, as he raises his arm with the wooden paddle poised above you. I hear the words they tell you: that we have sent you to boarding school because we didn't want you at home, because we didn't really love you. You were told to be silent; we wouldn't believe you. You were told these things were your fault - you were bad, and deserved the punishment.

Even now, nearly 40 years later, my heart is breaking, for I believe every word of what you have told us.

These people were the ones we trusted to act as parents, in our place, because we chose a career serving God. Oh, surely, had we known your suffering, had we known of the abuse at that time, we would have rushed to snatch you away from the hellhole. But, you ask, had you told us then, would we have believed you? Would we have believed a child over a man of God? Could we have admitted that the system for which we sacrificed was rotten? Or would we have joined the conspiracy of silence with countless other parents and staff who knew then, or through succeeding years, of the abuse taking place but who could not bear the thought of recognizing it, let alone admitting it? I cannot answer these questions. My chance to do that ended 40 years ago, long before I had knowledge of it. But my responsibility began in May 1991.

I can say with certainty - and here I believe I speak for all parents - we would never knowingly have placed you in harm's way. We made decisions on the information we were given; we believed we were placing you in safe, loving hands; we believed all of this was "God's will."

The day in 1991 when I learned the Truth was a day that changed my life forever. No matter when a parent faces this Truth, the overwhelming knowledge is that it is too late to undo the past. There is helplessness in that knowledge: lives have been shattered; the damage is done. There is only disbelief and anger - anger at God and the system, at the perpetrator, at myself. And questions: how could a loving God permit such atrocities to happen to His innocent children?

I need to address those victims whose parents have refused to hear the Truth or deny its having happened. There is in all of us a desire to accept what we interpret as God's will for our lives and NOT TO QUESTION. For surely, the mission boards which issue the sacred call, the missionaries who answer it, and the schools and churches which they establish are all above question, are they not? Blind faith makes possible the continuation of the circle of silence. I believe that these parents love their children; they simply cannot face the thought that their trust in their fellow workers has been misplaced or that anyone who heeded the call of the mission field could be so corrupt. Their belief that the sacrifice of their children was ordained by God is sincere. I grieve with them for that sacrifice. It is mine, too.

I do not believe that God asks such a thing. Surely He does not ask that we abandon our children, nor that we look the other way as they are being abused. Nor,years later, when the Truth is revealed to us, that we should deny it. But we live in a flawed world, where evil abounds in many forms. Mission boards and mission staff are made up of people good and evil, sick and well, honest as well as deceitful. I believe that the God of Love weeps with every abused child and every grieving parent, that He yearns for the healing of every victim. But He also gives us the responsibility - once the Truth is revealed -  to expose the perpetrator, to bring him to justice, and to provide aid for the victim.

Where, we ask, is the Church in all of this? Most of them have been part of the conspiracy of silence. Fear dominates - fear of exposure - fear of financial ruin. This fear prevents their taking responsibility of doing the true work of Christ's Church. There are, though, a few which have investigated thoroughly, have admitted the wrongs, are attempting to apologize and to make reparations for the crimes committed. These courageous churches speak to all of you, not just to the victims of their own denomination. Thus, there is hope.

I wish I could offer more than this nebulous hope. I wish I could help with your bills for therapy and prescriptions. I wish I could banish the awful memories which still haunt many of you. I wish I could assure you that complete healing will come and you will reclaim happiness and your faith. I cannot promise any of this or make it happen, even for you, my own two daughters.

But I have written these words to assure you that I have heard your stories and I believe them. I have understood the roots of the devastation you have suffered, and I applaud your valiant efforts to "get on with life," to continue and endure.

The hope and promise I can offer you lies in the community of victims and advocates which has sprung up in recent years, many on the Internet, people who exist for you and stand ready to communicate with you by email, phone, or letter, to answer questions and to offer resources. Some have a spiritual base, others do not but every victim is welcome and every inquiry is confidential.

The circle of silence has indeed been broken. Congregations, parents, victims are coming forward under the banner of Truth. I believe that open recognition and communication are our greatest hope. For that reason, I offer this letter, reaching out to each of you, with my most loving, deeply sincere apology. I invite you to contact me by email or phone, and I am also including a list of resources you may wish to consider.

In loving humility,

Mary Ann Payne, mother and advocate.

Close Window