Feeding More Than Hunger: Building Community Through Dignity and Shared Hope

Imagine opening your fridge to nothing but a jar of pickles.
No milk, no protein, no fruit or vegetables. For 15% of households in Berrien County, that stark reality is a daily struggle. If you factor in working families earning a bit more than the Federal Poverty Level but less than the basic cost of living, that statistic jumps to 42% of our households struggling to pay for housing, transportation, healthcare, and yes—food. Hard decisions must be made as to what takes priority each month, and 27% of those households don’t qualify for assistance.

Food insecurity isn't a buzzword—it’s a silent crisis. Our neighbors, families, and children are left wondering where their next meal will come from. This isn’t an abstract problem; it’s a real challenge that calls for our attention, care, and action. People need food.

I had always known food pantries were necessary in our community, so I volunteered at several. But I soon wondered: are pantry models the ideal solution? Each pantry I served was practical but often impersonal, commodity-driven, and designed for emergencies. Beyond true emergencies, I saw dignity being stripped from recipients, creating obstructive cycles of reliance. Sometimes, an “us versus them” mindset took root, leaving people with shame or entitlement attached to the transaction.

I believe every person deserves dignity.
So in late April, with a cupful of hope and jittery butterflies, I propped open the heavy side door at New Heights Community Food Network in Benton Heights. It was my first night there, stepping into the role of leadership after being asked to help breathe new life into it. Honestly, I didn’t know what I was doing. I was acting on a gentle nudge from God’s voice in my heart, saying, “You asked Me how to feed My sheep.” And I had. But I didn’t realize how literal my question was.

I wasn’t even sure anyone would show up that night, especially after the CFN had closed and taken a hiatus. But what I experienced in the coming days was nothing short of God’s favor addressing food insecurity and showing what He’s doing amidst it all. As people return week after week, here’s what I see.

Members shuffle in, their weary walks buoyed by threads of hope. They are greeted warmly by volunteers or other members, and they pay small membership dues. This isn’t a handout—it’s a cooperative effort.

Some members carry the weight of the world on their shoulders. Their eyes are downcast, their postures speak volumes. They’re carrying more than just physical burdens; you can feel the exhaustion from facing insurmountable challenges. But within that weariness, there’s also a quiet resilience—a determination to keep going, even when life is heavy.

They pull up chairs around a makeshift table—four long tables muscled together into one giant gathering spot. The mismatched edges don’t matter because what happens around that table is far more important than symmetry. Sure, they came for food, but something bigger unfolds here. Strangers become neighbors, neighbors become friends, and both members and volunteers catch up and pitch in.

“They” transitions to “we.”
There’s comfort in this togetherness—a reminder that even in our most disconnected moments, we are never truly alone when we find our seat at the table. What’s happening here is something most pantries can rarely provide: community—where names are known, and dignity, worth, and belonging truly matter.

And then there’s the food. At the Community Food Network, we prioritize fresh produce, healthy meats, and dairy products, ensuring that all members have access to nutritious options necessary for a balanced diet. Members get to choose their food preferences for their families—it’s dignifying . Shelves are stocked, freezers and fridges are full of milk and eggs, and we’ve even created a produce aisle, thanks to the abundance of seasonal fruits and vegetables from multiple sources.

As we grow, our community is becoming stronger together. Members and volunteers are nourishing one another with hope, help, care, and love.

To me, that mismatched giant table has become an altar of thanksgiving, watching God at work.

– Kathy Craig, Community Food Network Director

Berrien County statistics:
Feeding America 2024 Map the Meal Gap 
United Way Alice Reports

Interested in getting involved? The Community Food Network is 100% volunteer- and member-driven. If you’d like to lend a hand, there’s more information here.