Hospitality of the Heart
- Danielle Jamison
- 5 days ago
- 4 min read

Danielle recently travelled to Impact Ministries in Guatemala on a trip with Living Waters Christian Academy. She previously shared about visiting the School Classroom that our church sponsors, and the powerful experience of connecting with our students. Today she shares about other aspects of the trip and lessons on hospitality.
I was deeply impacted by the experience of visiting the homes of sponsor children. Every student and teacher from Living Waters who sponsors a child had the opportunity to visit that child’s home, bring a food hamper and gifts for the family, ask questions, and pray with them. In total, we visited 18 homes—18! What an unforgettable experience.
These visits were unannounced. We didn’t want the families to feel obligated to prepare anything special or feel pressure to host us in a certain way. Instead, we simply showed up. We would go to the school, take the child out of class, and bring them in our van to visit their home.
What struck me over and over again was the sheer generosity and hospitality of the Guatemalan people we visited. These are families living in extreme poverty, and yet they welcomed us without hesitation.
At every home, we were invited to sit. Often, there weren’t enough chairs—but families would pull out small plastic stools, or even borrow stools from their neighbours so that each of us had a place. In many homes, we were offered a drink and a small snack. And if the family had nothing on hand to share, they would often send a child running to the local store to buy something—for us.
Let that sink in: families who had so little, were willing to go without, so that we wouldn’t leave empty-handed. Their selflessness was beyond humbling. I am certain that some of these families sacrificed their own meals that evening in order to show us kindness. It was generosity not from abundance, but from the heart.
One home visit in particular stands out. It was the most impoverished home we saw. The walls were made of rough wood, the roof was a thin sheet of tin with holes, and the floor was just dirt. There were no chairs to sit on, so the mother offered the bed—her only piece of furniture—for a few of us. As some of our team members sat down, the bed broke.
This was no ordinary bed. It was a slab of wood with a thin layer of straw on top. This one surface was where the mother and her three children all slept—and now it was gone. The mom was embarrassed, apologizing for the accident. But our team was devastated. We had unintentionally broken the only bed this family had.
What happened next left me speechless. A group of our teenagers, deeply moved by the moment, pooled their own spending money to buy the family a new bed. Not just a replacement—but an upgrade: a queen-size bed, new sheets, and a frame that would lift it off the muddy ground. It wasn’t just a generous act—it was a picture of compassion, love, and learning what it means to serve others with humility and grace.
One of the most beautiful lessons I’ve learned, came from the people we visited in Guatemala. My view of hospitality has been changed. It’s not about what we have—it’s about how we give. It’s not about perfection—it’s about presence.
The people we visited didn’t have much by the world’s standards, but they gave us everything they could. They taught us that true hospitality comes from the heart. Their generosity and hospitality are deeply humbling. They give what they can—often more than they can spare—not out of obligation, but out of sincere appreciation and love. I saw people go without so that others could have. It wasn’t about abundance; it was about the heart.
That experience challenged me. Back home, when there’s a knock at my door, my first reaction is often suspicion: Who is it? Why are they here? If I’m honest, even with guests I’m expecting, I worry—Is my house clean enough? Is what I’ve prepared good enough? My focus is often on appearances rather than presence. I’ve been more concerned with impressing than embracing.
But in Guatemala, I learned that true hospitality doesn’t require a perfect house or a fancy meal. It requires an open heart. Welcoming people with warmth, not worry. They didn’t apologize for what they didn’t have—they gave what they did, joyfully.
Proverbs 11:24–25 reminds us, “One person gives freely, yet gains even more; another withholds unduly, but comes to poverty. A generous person will prosper; whoever refreshes others will be refreshed.” True hospitality is refreshing—not just for the guest, but for the host. It’s a posture of the heart, not the home.
So, the question I’m left with is this: Would I be willing to go without so someone else could have? Am I ready to welcome not just people into my house, but into my heart?
Because hospitality of the heart—that’s where love lives. And where love lives, there is always room.
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