On October 21st Monica and I helped out with the St. Gregory’s food pantry. What an amazing experience! The Saints that adorn the chapel walls are dancing to the generous people that help with this amazing project. I am so happy to have had the opportunity to pass out apples and pears I wish I could do it every friday but I am so glad I went thank you Monica for taking me!!
The Food Pantry is currently serving over 1,000 families. We regret that as of the end of October 2009, we are not able to register any more people to get groceries; we hope to be able to open up to new people next year. For more information please visit: www.thefoodpantry.org
NEW: Watch our Food Pantry video!
Every Friday, right around the same altar where Saint Gregory’s offers communion, we give away free groceries to hundreds hungry families. We provide literally tons of fresh fruits and vegetables, rice, beans, pasta, cereal, bread; and we share our peaceful, beautiful space. The pantry is run entirely by volunteers –almost all of them people who came to get food and stayed to help out, Everyone is welcome to recieve and to give. To volunteer come any time from 9AM until 3PM; we share lunch around noon. You can watch a video interview of Sara Miles, the founder of the food pantry, by clicking here.
Sara Miles, founder of the food pantry, wrote: “Honeydew melons. Purple and green plums. Peaches, nectarines, spinach, yellow tomatoes, red tomatoes, cherry tomatoes, artichokes, lettuce, potatoes, onions, scallions, crookneck squash, pears, stringbeans, okra, apples, broccoli, mangoes, zucchini….on Fridays, our sanctuary is a vision of God’s ridiculous, over-the-top abundance. And packing up the leftovers to take down to the soup kitchen, or to serve at coffee hour on Sunday; wrestling boxes of watermelons or composting crates of overripe apricots, we can reflect with new understanding on St. Gregory of Nyssa’s observation that ‘the fruit of mercy yields much fruit.’
“Outside the pantry our people are gathering. A bunch of second-graders chasing each other up and down the sidewalk, screeching happily. A cluster of Moldavian refugees. A very sick prostitute and her faithful, exhausted friend, sitting together on the steps sharing a cigarette. Some gossipy Salvadoran moms; a few tattooed ex-cons; an old woman with her Bible. We set up a table outside with pitchers of cool water and glasses, and talk with everyone. People start to go in to get groceries: some give us stacks of plastic bags, or offer to take a turn helping at the table. A few have brought food—a couple slices of birthday cake, a box of powdered milk, some extra cans of corn– to share.
“It takes so little to see God in this world. You just have to open the door.”