A Mark on My Heart

By Katherine Roten, Associate Director of Community Standards & Conflict Resolution, Senior Assistant Dean of Students, University of Delaware (formerly a teacher in Kennett Schools for 20 years and co-founder of the Thread Shed).

Some days leave a mark on your heart, and today was one of those days.

As both a mother and an educator, I often find myself looking at the world through two lenses. One sees children with endless potential. The other sees the incredible love, sacrifice, and hope that families pour into helping that potential grow. Today in Guatemala, those two parts of my heart came together in a way I will never forget.

The first place we visited today was the home of a Guatemalan family in the Western Highlands. Before we even walked inside, I noticed something that stopped me in my tracks. A beautiful rose vine was climbing out of a wall made from corrugated metal. I couldn’t stop looking at it. It wasn’t just a beautiful flower. It was a powerful reminder that beauty, resilience, and hope can flourish in places where others might only see hardship. Life has a remarkable way of finding a path to bloom, and sometimes the most breathtaking growth comes from materials the world has discarded.

This image became the thread connecting everything we experienced today.

As we stepped inside the home, I learned that fifteen family members share three rooms. Yet the first thing I noticed wasn’t the size of the house. I noticed how much care had gone into every corner. Every space had a purpose. Nothing was wasted. Their home reflected love, creativity, and an incredible sense of pride.

The family is just beginning a revolving fund program through the Association that helps them raise pigs to eventually sell for income. They are also raising rabbits, not for food, but to breed and sell the baby rabbits. Every effort reflects thoughtful planning, perseverance, and a determination to create more opportunities for their family.

What touched me most was the way they welcomed us. They opened their home to complete strangers, shared their stories, answered our questions, and made us feel like honored guests.

As we left, I couldn’t stop thinking about that rose growing from the corrugated metal wall. I had no idea it would become the image that would define the rest of my day.

Later, we arrived at the local school, but the day didn’t unfold the way anyone had planned. Earlier that morning, a significant earthquake had shaken the area. Out of an abundance of caution, many families chose to keep their children home, leaving everyone unsure of what the day would look like.

Instead of giving up, the teachers quickly adjusted their plans. The students who were able to come still showed up with smiles on their faces, determined to share as much of the program as they could. They had spent months preparing dances, presentations, and cultural demonstrations because they wanted us to experience Guatemala through their eyes. Even though the day looked different than they had imagined, they still poured their hearts into every moment.

I found myself wiping away tears more than once.

The emotions didn’t come from polished performances alone. They came from witnessing genuine pride.

Families had prepared traditional Guatemalan foods for us to enjoy. Students created beautiful presentation displays showcasing customary clothing and cultural traditions. Teachers spent countless hours helping students rehearse and prepare. Throughout the day, stories and presentations were shared in Mam, Spanish, and English, reflecting the rich linguistic and cultural heritage of their community. Every detail represented months of preparation and the work of so many hands and hearts.

As an educator, I couldn’t help but smile. I know firsthand how much effort it takes to motivate adolescents to commit to something. Seeing these students choose to come to school after an unexpected earthquake, simply because they wanted to welcome us and share what they had worked so hard to create, spoke volumes about who they are. They weren’t performing because they had to. They were sharing something they loved.

Before we left, they surprised each of us with a custom coffee mug featuring their school’s logo, a Mayan symbol representing wisdom. They told us they hoped we would think of them every time we used it and that one day we would come back and visit again.

That was the moment I teared up once more.

It wasn’t because of the mug itself. It was because of the thought behind it.

Throughout the day, these students, their families, and their teachers had shared so much of themselves with us. They welcomed us into their homes. They shared their traditions, their stories, and food lovingly prepared by their families. They adapted after an earthquake so they could still spend the day with us. Then, before we left, they wanted us to take home something meaningful so we would always remember them.

As a mom, that kind of generosity touched me deeply. As a teacher, it reminded me why relationships matter so much. Generosity isn’t measured by how much someone has. It is measured by how much of themselves they are willing to share. They gave from the heart, and that is a gift far greater than anything money can buy.

Tonight, as I reflect on everything we experienced, I keep coming back to that rose climbing the metal wall.

Back home, many of us are quick to label something as trash once it has served its original purpose. Today reminded me that value is often found in what we overlook. With creativity, determination, and hope, people can transform ordinary materials into something functional, meaningful, and beautiful.

But the greatest beauty wasn’t found in the recycled materials themselves.

It was found in the people.

It was in the students who proudly celebrated their culture.

It was in the teachers who pour their hearts into helping children grow.

It was in the families who create loving homes with whatever resources they have.

It was in the quiet resilience that seemed to meet us everywhere we went.

Today left me feeling inspired.

Inspired by resilience.

Inspired by generosity.

Inspired by the universal hopes we all share as parents, teachers, and human beings. To love our families well, to create opportunities for our children, and to leave the world a little more beautiful than we found it.

Today, Guatemala gave me far more than I could ever have expected. It reminded me that some of the strongest roots grow in the most unexpected places. Sometimes, they begin with something as simple as a rose climbing a metal wall.