I spent some time yesterday trying to capture the rarest of places: a literal Factory of Good. It feels like home to me.
There is no politics there, no red, no blue, no dividing of people, no labeling of people, only caring. It feels good to wake up there with friends, neighbors, and all kinds of people united to do good. It is a special place. Here, Americans do what Americans have always done best: help their neighbors when they get into trouble.
To me, it is a shrine to humanity and the best inside of us. Come inside and look in images, not words, in feeling, no power or greed. Inside, a chance to be good and nothing else. Here, it is better to do good than to argue about what good means.
Every volunteer gets a sock.
Sarah wants the people who feel welcome.
Volunteers: Sue has a big heart and gives much of it to the food pantry.
During the festive season, Sarah’s unwavering desire to spread the joy of Christmas all year transforms the pantry into a haven of warmth and celebration, where every member is made to feel unique and cherished, and every volunteer has nothing to do but good. Nobody is red or blue; they are just people.
I love exploring the twists and corners of the food pantry and life in the back.
The pans in the kitchen say a lot.
Every Tuesday, the big truck from the New York Food Bank arrives, and a lot of hard work begins.
Sarah put up a Christmas tree for the pantry members.
The food shelves are the “store,” as some call them—the heart of a food bank.
When the truck comes.
