Top 8 Foods to Give to a Food Drive
Actually, there are literally thousands of foods which are good for a food drive. Choose the foods that make eating easy.
Many food drives and food distribution activities are springing up throughout our country. Thank Goodness!
People are shopping at food pantries and food distribution centers in greater numbers than ever before. People who never, ever, even paid attention to food pantries now find themselves in lines.
We have now reached the point where we all have choices: If we don’t need to shop at a pantry, then we need to give food to a pantry.
So, then, the question: What are good things to give?
The answer: any foods which make eating easy.
Breakfast foods include:
cereal, granola, granola bars, protein bars, shelf stable milk, juice.
Lunch foods:
peanut butter, jelly, canned fruit, canned pasta, tuna, mayonnaise, and catsup.
Dinner:
pasta with sauce, taco kits, canned soups, stews, canned beans, macaroni and cheese, canned tuna, salmon, sardines, chicken.
Staples:
People shopping at a food pantry also need items such as salt, pepper, sugar, seasonings, cooking oil, mayonnaise, mustard, catsup, paper towels, paper napkins, forks, knives, spoons. Is there an item that you use regularly, maybe that item will be good for a food pantry gift.
Items of Dignity:
soap, shampoo, laundry soap, dishwashing soap, sanitary napkins, toilet paper. toothpaste, tooth brushes. razors
Infant needs:
diapers, baby soaps, baby lotion, baby foods
Pet needs:
pet food, both dried and canned; cat litter, puddle pads, gently used pet beds, leashes.
Homeless needs:
food that does not need refrigeration, food that can be distributed in single servings
Thank you for reading this blog post. Please refer it to your preferred social media network.
Thurman Greco
New Beginnings – Part 2 as I Explore the Spirituality of Hunger in America
Like many first-time pantry volunteers everywhere, I showed up that morning because someone from the church asked me to come. A slot needed to be filled and I stepped up to the plate when I was asked. I was a foot soldier in the army of the outreach. I tried to live up to my status in the church as a new member. I showed up at whatever activity needed help and did my share. Nothing more.
I had no desire to move up any ladder in the congregation.
On that morning of new beginnings, I had no premonition I would ever return to this pantry room.
I had no plans for this place in my future. I had a profession teaching reflexology, Reiki, and canine massage therapy in a healing space in my home on Tannery Brook.
This was a case of fools rushing. Knowing what I know now, I should have run out the door and never looked back. Mary could have handled the crowd that day without me. In the whole two hours, no more than a couple dozen people visited the pantry.
I wasn’t blessed with any psychic knowledge…certainly not the feeling of danger I felt when I saw the head of the building committee in the hallway outside the pantry months later.
There were no lines in the hallway at the new beginnings of my time there. People wandered into the pantry in groups of one and two to choose from cereal, soup, tuna, and peanut butter.
Never in my wildest thoughts on that day did I envision the pantry hallway filled with hungry people, the tiny room packed with fresh produce and jammed with shoppers.
By 2008, the tanked economy was well underway and waits in the hallway were an hour or more.
The Hunger Prevention Nutrition Assistance Program (HPNAP) passed down feeding guidelines which included whole-grain bread, 1% milk, fresh produce. By 2011, the building committee had rules dictating where people could stand, what bathroom they could use, and what parts of the hallway were off-bounds.
Never did I foresee monthly food deliveries averaging over 12,000 pounds.
Never did I imagine, on that day, building committee members angry over hungry people receiving food according to guidelines set down by the State of New York, the Department of Health, and the United States Department of Agriculture.
I never thought I would spend months grappling with the unworthy hungry, a concept introduced to me by a local religious leader. The concept wasn’t explained. Only the two words – unworthy hungry – were used in a sentence: “You are feeding the unworthy hungry.” This was something I never heard of before. What did she mean? Who were the unworthy hungry?
After that first morning in the food pantry, I drove home, pulled out a little notebook from a drawer and wrote what people said, like real writers do. When I wrote these things down, I felt my grandmother’s presence.
Her spirit was with me in the room. I looked around the dining area to see if someone had entered the room without my realizing it. But, no, I didn’t find a soul. I walked over to a cabinet and began my dialogue journal on that afternoon.
A shopper: “They cut my food stamps again. I don’t know how I’m going to make it. I have no money this month. My car died and I don’t know where I’m going to get money to fix it. If I can’t fix it, I can’t buy a new one either.”
Lillie Dale Cox Thurman spoke to me clearly that morning with emphatic, strong, direct instructions. She went straight to my head: “Write this down! Write this down too! Now…write this down.”
My grandmother, Lillie Dale Cox Thurman, stepped into my life on the first morning in the food pantry and never left. Not even when my mother, Uralee Thurman Lawrence, roared in with prayers and fast, furious, aggressive instructions which I resisted to the bitter end. Under their directions, I joined the crowd in the basement and was soon volunteering regularly.
So, now, I’ve got the second volume, “The Ketchup Sandwich Chronicles,” coming out on this blog.
Thank you for reading this blogged book! Please refer it to your preferred social media network and stay tuned for future chapters!
Thurman Greco
My Story and the 9 Truths I Discovered
I began my life changing journey fighting hunger on a cool autumn Thursday in Woodstock, New York in 2005 where I volunteered for the first time at the local food pantry.
I was assigned a shift with Marie Duane. I drove over to the Woodstock Reformed Church, parked my car behind the buildling and cautiously walked in. I had never been to the pantry before.
I entered the empty hallway and found the pantry on the right. I walked into the room and there it was: a small space, actually, about 12′ by 16′. Each wall supported a set of metal shelving units. Each unit stood about 6′ high and 3′ deep with 4 shelves. Most of the shelves were empty. A few shelves had some food:
cereal
tuna
soup
peanut butter.
There was a little handwritten note in front of each display:
person: 1 item, family: 1 item.
There may have been other items on shelves but I don’t remember them.
A small table stood in the center of the room. A metal folding chair was placed in front of each window.
We sat in the chairs, Marie and I, and chatted as people trickled in. We discussed the usual: weather, gardening, knitting, decorating the alter at St. Gregory’s Episcopal Church.
“Hi. How are you? Will you please sign your name here?” Each shopper signed in and noted the number of adults, seniors, and children in the household. After signing in, the person walked around the room selecting from the cereal, peanut butter, tuna, and soup. The selected food was placed on the table and bagged to take home, wherever or whatever that was.
On this morning, not blessed with any psychic knowledge, I was totally unaware of experiences waiting for me in the pantry. Never in my wildest thoughts did I envision the hall filled with hungry people, the tiny room packed with fresh produce and jammed with shoppers.
Nor did I for 1 moment ponder the push back I would experience as the number of hungry seeking food grew. Within a few short years, this 2 dozen single homeless men – mostly Woodstock’s colorful characters – had swelled (due to a tanking economy) to over 300 people weekly. This number finally approached 500 people weekly before it was all over.
Now, in the autumn of 2015, our stock market experiences numerous “corrections”. I realize I learned some things over the years which, for me, are ground truths about the pantry.
Feeding the hungry with dignity is the most important thing.
Single homeless men are now far outnumbered by members of the Struggling Class, households of working people holding down 2 and 3 jobs just to pay the rent and buy the gas to get to work.
The 3 most hot button words in the English language are food, sex, and money. These 3 words are concerned with a person’s core beliefs, emotions, and spiritual attitudes. Food and money, or the lack thereof, loom large in pantries.
The sidewalks in our communities and cities have become wards of untreated mentally ill people. In our great nation we don’t hospitalize or otherwise treat many of our mentally ill. Instead, they they are incarcerated.
Some of these untreated mentally ill happen to be homeless. Homeless is not a category of people. It’s just a situation that happens. It can happen to anyone.
The 50+ senior population has many who lack enough $$$ for food and are largely a silent group. The bottom line is this: When our grandparents don’t get enough to eat, they often get sick.
I’m seeing a whole generation of children who have never been inside a grocery store.
Shoppers at our pantry can get a 3-day supply of food weekly. Their job is to make it last 7 days. Many share this food with a pet. Often, the only thing a person has left from a prosperous past is the dog.
The most difficult thing I see in the pantry is a Korean War vet getting food. Something I just can’t understand is how a person who served in a very brutal war, and subsequently spent an adult life working and paying taxes should have to be in a food pantry line in his old age.
Much of the food available to the hungry in food pantries is diverted from its trip to the landfill.
There is absolutely no excuse for anyone in our great nation to go hungry.
Thank you for reading this blog. The story is true. The people are real.
Please refer this article to your preferred social media network. Share this story with friends or relatives who might be interested.
Don’t forget to join the email list.
Thurman Greco
