On December 28, 1974, 21 American tourists who had been visiting Mayan ruins near Guatemala City perished when their chartered plane crashed in a remote area of jungle. Mary Frank’s 21-year old daughter Andrea was among those who burned to death in the accident.

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“I feel my sorrow well up like a hill,” she once wrote about her loss. “A smooth hill with no grass and deep sides. It stretches past my ribs to my hands and beyond, and inside the hill it cries.”

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This sculpture of a broken woman, formed by Mary Frank, is a visual representation of the guilt she felt because she took for granted that her daughter would always be there.

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Questions to consider:

In regards to the sudden tragic loss of her daughter, is Mary Frank guilty of anything?

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Why does she feel guilty?

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What can guilt, in a context such as this, teach us about ourselves and our relationship with time?