How a Local Pantry Comes Together to Serve Their Neighbors

The Faces of Hunger: What a Local Pantry Wants You to Know

By 12:30 on a Tuesday afternoon, the cars are already in line.

Two lanes, stretching from the loading area, around the building, and out to the road. Volunteers move through the line — directing traffic, welcoming each arrival, radioing ahead to let the team know who's coming next. When a car reaches the first station, a volunteer steps up, asks for a name, confirms the family size, and moves on. No questions asked during pantry distribution, dignity and privacy respected. Just a name, a nod, and a warm welcome.

At the next station, the car is loaded with items to supplement their meals for the coming week — whatever is available that day — meat or poultry, eggs, milk, bread, fresh fruits and vegetables, non-perishables — things for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. And treats for the kids.

Before they leave, a little something extra — just a fun snack for the road. Then a warm goodbye and a genuine "have a wonderful week."

Who's in these cars? That's what this story is about. 

A Pantry Born From Need

The Journey Ministry Pantry opened in Youngsville, North Carolina in the summer of 2022 — born from the legacy of a church pantry that had served the community before closing its doors. While the church left, the community's need for food did not. In just four years it has grown into something remarkable — not because of what it is, but because of what it has become to its community: a place that shows up, week after week, for whoever needs it.

"Once you see the need up close, there's no way not to become committed to meeting it," shares Floyd Vick, Chairman of the Board and acting Executive Director. "When the church pantry disbanded, my wife and I, along with those previously involved with the church pantry, knew we had to carry on."

Today, he and his team run a pantry that served around 90 families a week just two years ago. Now it serves an average of 180 families a week, and as many as 200 some weeks.

Nationally, the numbers tell a similar story. Nearly 48 million Americans are currently food insecure — 13.7% of all households, including one in five children. That figure has remained elevated for three consecutive years, driven by rising costs, a volatile job market, and a safety net stretched thin across too many families.

But statistics don't show up at the pantry. People do. And the stories behind the families coming through The Journey Ministry Pantry might surprise you.

The Faces of Hunger

The truth is hunger in our communities doesn't have one face. It has many — and chances are, you'd recognize some of them. They are not a statistic, and they are not strangers. They're the people who live a few streets over — who showed up here quietly, sometimes reluctantly, and who are making it work because a community of neighbors decided to show up for them.

The woman who gives more than she gets.

She and her husband — a disabled veteran — come to the pantry because, like so many others, they need the help. But she doesn't stop at her own door. Some of what she brings home goes to the people on her street who can't get out on their own, who have no way to reach a pantry and no one to ask. She is, by every definition, a neighbor. And she found her way to that role through a pantry that first took care of her.

The friends who did everything right.

They worked. Full-time, for decades, the way you're supposed to. They saved what they could. They didn't expect to find themselves here. But Social Security and modest retirement funds weren't designed for what groceries, utilities, and healthcare cost today. They share a home now to make the math work — two people who spent their lives being independent, quietly leaning on each other, and on a pantry that doesn't ask questions.

The man who retired before he was ready.

His company downsized. He was pushed out — not fired, not quit, just no longer needed — before he'd planned to stop working. That meant taking Social Security earlier than he wanted, which means a permanently smaller check than he'd counted on. For the rest of his life. He and his wife are managing, but managing means choices no one should have to make: which bill, which prescription, which meal. The pantry fills a gap that his retirement was supposed to cover.

The unexpected caregiver.

She lost her father. Then her mother suffered a brain injury on the way to the gym — one ordinary morning that changed everything. Her mother moved in, and overnight she became not just a daughter, but a caregiver and a provider — navigating medical systems, household expenses, and her own grief — all at once. Food insecurity wasn't something she'd ever thought about before. It wasn't something she thought she'd ever have to think about. And yet here she was, and here the pantry was, ready for exactly this. 

The man who comes when he needs to.

He doesn't come every week. He almost didn't come at all. He first came for help after the plant he worked at closed and took his livelihood with it. He was embarrassed — he didn't want to have to beg for things. But hunger doesn't care about pride. He was told the pantry wasn't dealing in charity. It was dealing in love. He works when he can find work. When he can't, he comes back. The pantry isn't a last resort — it's a resource. And knowing it's there, without judgment, makes everything else a little more manageable.

A Growing Need at Our Door

The Journey Ministry Pantry doesn't exist because of one crisis. It exists because of a slow, compounding squeeze that has pushed more and more families past the edge of what they can manage on their own.

"The demand has grown from rising costs coupled with nearly flat — or significantly decreasing — household income," says Floyd. "Food prices are up. Rent is up. Utilities are up. And for many families, income hasn't moved, has moved in the wrong direction, or disappeared altogether with job losses in a tough economy. The margin that once existed, however thin, is simply gone."

"A lot of people just don't see the need there is in the community," Floyd adds. That invisibility is part of what makes it so persistent. The family stretched between groceries and gas doesn't announce itself. Neither does the retiree choosing between a prescription and a meal. They find their way here quietly — and hope someone is ready for them.

The Journey Ministry Pantry is ready, and committed to continuing its support to the families in their community who are food insecure. They invite anyone who is able to join them in the fight against hunger in Youngsville.

The Power of a PORCH

Here's what has changed for The Journey Ministry Pantry since PORCH Communities became a partner: some weeks, Floyd doesn't have to spend a single dollar of their donations on non-perishable food.

Before PORCH, the pantry was buying most of its non-perishables out of their operational budget every week — money that came entirely from community donations, because this pantry runs on nothing else. Now, because PORCH donors reliably show up each month with most of the items the pantry requests, that budget can go somewhere else. To fresh meat. To produce. To eggs and milk and the building blocks of real, nourishing meals.

Across PORCH's network, partner pantries receive an average of 40% of their total intake from PORCH donors. And because PORCH collects mostly what each pantry asks for, families receive what they actually need — not just whatever happened to be donated.

Dozens of volunteers work all week behind the scenes — collecting, sorting, preparing — so that when families pull into that drive-thru line each Tuesday, everything is ready for them. They know every family by name. They ask how everyone is doing. They care about the answer.

Ask the volunteers why they keep showing up, and the answers are as varied as the families they serve. But one said it best: "The more you're outside of yourself, the better you are."

The families keep coming. So do the volunteers. And every new PORCH neighborhood means one more pantry that doesn't have to wonder if they'll have enough.

"When you start on a journey, you never know where you're going to end up… and I think it's been a good fit for PORCH to come in and help us," says Floyd. "PORCH has been a real shot in the arm. The need in this area is growing — and if we can get more PORCH neighborhoods involved, we could solve a lot of problems. Our ask is simple: more PORCH neighborhoods in Youngsville — more PORCH neighborhoods everywhere."

Come join us. PORCH is all about neighbors helping neighbors — and in as little as three hours a month, you can become a Neighborhood Coordinator, bringing your neighbors together each month to donate the non-perishable food that pantries like The Journey Ministry Pantry so desperately need. The impact, as Floyd and his team can tell you, is anything but small.

Interested in starting a PORCH in your community?