Efforts big or small help in fighting food insecurity

The gathering was innocent enough. Just a group of friends who enjoy cooking and wanted to sample each other’s favorite soups. The early autumn evening was warm, and we dined out in the lawn at a folding table. We sampled chicken noodle and vegetarian lentil soups. Focaccia and cookies were thrown in for, you know, balance.

            One of the friends shared her experiences with an organization in our community that helps individuals and families experiencing food insecurity and homelessness.

            Mid-slurp, several soup spoons clinked to a halt.

            Homelessness? No food? Here?

            Our friend went on to describe the formation of a Southwest Michigan nonprofit called Neighbor By Neighbor, which coordinated need-based assistance in our community. The number of clients was growing daily.

            Heading home after dinner, driving under the influence of chicken broth, I thought that perhaps our little soup klatch could help with the food insecurity in our neighborhoods. Great minds thinking alike and all, my friends had similar thoughts.

            The Sisterhood of the Freezer was born.

            Based out of the ample kitchen of a local church, we began sharing texts and messages with plans to gather and cook meals to keep on hand at the church. The pastors could use the meals for congregational home visits, and the extras could go to Neighbor By Neighbor.

            Cooking sessions got underway. Elbow to elbow and aprons on fire we chopped, diced, sautéed and simmered our way to a nice assortment of hearty soups and casseroles, all with pronounceable ingredients, which were put to rest in the freezer. The Fort Knox of the casserole world.

            The Sisterhood is not a group of chefs. We are not nuns.

            Some group members are incredible cooks, while the rest of us just know how to read a recipe. One has a master’s degree in stovetop stuffing; another can bake up a mountain of chicken breasts in just one afternoon. And, thank goodness, some prefer to come just to clean up after everybody else. 

            For some of the more involved projects, such as constructing and baking savory hand pies, there is a LOT to do, and the prep is spread out along the kitchen counters and around the island. The cooking is spiced with friendly chatter and accompanied by percussive pots and cooking utensils. We have to talk over the sound of the exhaust fan above the commercial stovetop—not that we create smoke or anything. But things do tend to get loud (like, really loud). Down the hall, the pastors’ doors slowly close.

            When it comes to addressing food insecurity in any community, there are many hands at work, cooks in the kitchen and ways to get involved.

            Our community hosts several visits from the Feeding America mobile food pantry each month. Feeding America is a large nationwide nonprofit that coordinates a huge network of food banks.

            I gather with other volunteers to meet the truck when it arrives, sorting food into boxes so that they can be placed in the vehicles of the drive-thru clients. Other volunteers use their own vehicles to deliver boxes to clients who are homebound. The recipients in line express heartfelt gratitude for this array of food, and those of us preparing the distribution are fed in another way. We bear witness to the face of hunger and the ability to help alleviate it, even in a small way.

            Neighbor By Neighbor occupies a small hub office that offers a free food pantry, counseling and referral services, and emergency financial assistance. Allegra Weiner is their volunteer coordinator and says that her army of volunteers sought an organization where they could help others. “They see what and where the needs are, which helps them stay in touch on a deeper level with the community as a whole. In addition, volunteering offers the opportunity to connect with other volunteers of all ages.”

            Many supporters of organizations like Neighbor By Neighbor (and a million others) have funds to donate, life-long expertise to contribute, management prowess to share. I have none of those things.

            For me there is a prompting that comes, often unbeckoned, that pulls me toward a task or situation that could use my energy in some way. That’s when I speak those four vulnerable words: “Do you need help?”

            The pixie dust begins to fall when you join with other people who have the same willingness to help. It works everywhere. In your local library, at a thrift shop, in your school’s classrooms, at a home for disabled adults. Ask your heart what you love to do and where you are needed.

            Once you become aware of an opportunity and offer to help, you will find your people—those you serve and those who serve alongside you.

Deborah Rieth writes from a Michigan small farm, where her soul is nourished by gardens, kitchens and words.​​ ​​​​​