By Eric Hoover

Philadelphia

Fourth in an occasional series on students over 50 who seek a higher education.

A desk, a love seat, and a small bookshelf. Little else could fit inside the room Ruth Maldonato calls her sanctuary. Some days, after coming home from class, she closes the door and sits in the quiet, surrounded by four purple walls.

For years she has studied here, on the second floor of the row house she shares with her husband. In this room, she has typed several essays, read many books, and looked up thousands of words.

Ms. Maldonato, a part-time student at the Community College of Philadelphia, learned two languages after emigrating from Colombia 12 years ago. The first was English and the second was law. She plans to graduate in December with an associate degree in paralegal studies. After that, she hopes to find a job, and a way to help immigrants like herself, if only to translate an unfamiliar world.

At 52, Ms. Maldonato has settled in this big, buzzing city, unlike any she once knew. Born in Medellín, she grew up in small towns where people had neither cars nor electricity. As a teenager, she read about the Kennedys and danced to disco, but never imagined living in the United States, which seemed as far away as the moon.

Then, while vacationing in Costa Rica in 1997, she met an American with a grin two feet wide. His name was William. She knew no English, but he spoke decent Spanish. They fell in love right then and there.

After returning to the States, William sent her dozens of books, like Exploring English and Easy True Stories, as well as Spanish-English dictionaries and language cassettes. Months later, he visited her in Colombia, then asked her to come to see him in Philadelphia, where he proposed. At their wedding just weeks later, she knew none of the guests.

His home had a second bedroom. "You can do whatever you want with it," he told her. She decided to turn it into a study, and in that room, she began to redefine herself.

Ms. Maldonato took English courses and eventually became a U.S. citizen. She learned how to drive and how to park on South Philadelphia's narrow streets. She found that she liked Geno's famous cheesesteaks, even American football. She was happy.

Still, something was missing. Ms. Maldonato missed her family, but she felt something deeper than loneliness. She needed a purpose. In Colombia, she had worked in the accounting division of an engineering company, a job she enjoyed. She wanted a routine, a challenge.

"I needed to fill that empty hole in my life," she says. "That was my goal—to be somebody."

'Another Kind of World'

In 2002, Ms. Maldonato found her first job when a young couple hired her as a nanny. Their first child arrived, then a second. Over the years, she cleaned the house, made the beds, and did the laundry. She changed the children's diapers, took them to the zoo, and played games with them. Sometimes she taught them Spanish words.

The family embraced Ms. Maldonato. In 2005, when she announced that she planned to enroll at the community college, the couple told her they would pay for her courses, which would cost up to $1,700 a semester. She accepted the offer, vowing to study hard. She worked in their home eight hours a day and took classes in the evenings.

Early on, Ms. Maldonato met with an adviser who encouraged her to pursue a career as a paralegal. The idea intrigued her, but she had doubts. To learn a language is to piece together a puzzle that is never quite done. She could read legal cases, but could she interpret them? She could master unfamiliar words, but could she grasp their meaning?

The first novel she read in English was Foreigner, by Nahid Rachlin. It tells the story of an Iranian woman who studies in the United States, where she marries and settles down, only to return years later to her native country. Ms. Maldonato filled the book's pages with notes. "It was the same pain," she says. "She knew no English, had no friends. There was different weather, different food. She had to face another kind of world she was not prepared to live in."

Long before Ms. Maldonato came to Philadelphia, she had known the feeling of moving from one place to another. Her mother was a schoolteacher whose job required her to relocate every two or three years. The family's homes changed, but one thing did not: Each night after dinner, her mother would sit everyone down and read to them from the Bible, for they owned few other books.

Only later did Ms. Maldonato learn other stories. When she first read Cinderella, her mind flooded with fantasies about the many things she would like to own. For a time, she thought a lot about Disneyland.

She grew into a serious student. In 1980 she enrolled at the University of Medellín, where she studied economics. Her family helped pay for her first year, but eventually she decided she could not afford the tuition. After two and a half years, she dropped out and found a job.

For years, Ms. Maldonato looked back in frustration. In Philadelphia, she resolved to graduate, no matter what.

Early on, Ms. Maldonato befriended Clint Gould, a professor at the community college who taught her English 101 course. Over the years, Mr. Gould, who lives just a few blocks away, has talked her through many assignments. Recently, he helped her write her résumé.

Soon she will need it. This spring, she will take a business course for paralegals and a course on wills. In the fall, she plans to complete a legal internship, the last requirement she must fulfill for her degree. If she cannot find a full-time job, she will volunteer, to get some experience.

Not long ago, the family for whom Ms. Maldonato worked moved to Connecticut. Since then, she's paid for her courses with money she had saved. She remains close to the couple, who have promised to attend her graduation.

Until then, Ms. Maldonato will study in the room with the purple walls. It contains things she once did not own: a computer, a shelf full of American paperbacks, a copy of Black's Law Dictionary. It's a humble study, with an ironing board behind the door and a window overlooking the alley. But in this room, she says, she has everything.