My siblings and I were not the only ones who suffered; Mom suffered just as greatly. As a mother and grandmother, now I can clearly see Mom’s dilemma. She was looked upon as an example of the godly woman, properly submitted to her husband. Mom had little if any identity apart from being Mrs. Kenneth B Palmer, the wife of a missionary to Ivory Coast, West Africa.
I won't ever forget one Sunday evening church meeting. Mom had purchased skin creams and lotions to take with her for the upcoming four-year term in the Ivory Coast. These were necessary for her comfort and welfare. My dad opened her small suitcase and began to call the ladies attending that meeting. “Help yourself,” he said, “because Betty won’t be needing these.”
I was in shock. I could not believe what I was seeing. I thought, Boy, he's in trouble now! I can't believe Dad is doing this. Meanwhile, Mom stood on the side; her expression was mixed anger, humiliation, and grief. Mom's esteem and honor was robbed by this travesty and Dad had no clue.