When I was growing up, Sunday dinner at our house was more than just a meal. It was a tradition, a gathering, and a lifeline. It was not unusual to have 15 or 20 young people around our table, each one bringing their own story, their own struggles, and their own hopes.
Most of the faces became familiar over time, but there was always a new smile — a smile that was both happy and bewildered. This new smile, I came to realize, often belonged to someone who had rarely, if ever, experienced such an abundance of food and warmth. Their amazement wasn’t just at the variety of dishes on the table but at the very notion that they could have seconds or even thirds, something many of them had seldom, if ever, experienced.
Our Sunday dinners were bountiful, in the truest sense of the word. One Sunday, the table might be filled with spaghetti, corn on the cob, greens, cornbread, sweet potatoes, fried chicken, and a rich, buttery pound cake. The next Sunday, we might have cabbage, green beans, smothered beef with gravy, macaroni and cheese, potato salad, peach cobbler, and, of course, more cornbread.
To many of our guests, these meals were a lot to take in — not just because of the sheer amount of food but because of the love and care that went into preparing each dish. For some, it was their first time sitting down to a meal where there was no worry about whether there would be enough to go around.
What they didn’t know was that my mom, with her resourcefulness and unwavering dedication to providing a good and hearty meal, had a knack for turning what others might discard into something wonderful.
Back then, the folks at Easy Way Market would let her take home the outer leaves of cabbage or greens that had been pulled off because they were starting to yellow. She’d also get fruit that was beginning to brown and the odd broken bag of spaghetti or a dented can of green beans.
My mother and grandmother would cut away the bad parts of the fruits and vegetables, washing everything thoroughly, and then cook up a storm. They would turn what others might see as waste into delicious, nourishing meals. Saturday was cooking day, and it felt comforting and special.
On Sundays after church, my dad would set up the tables, make Kool-Aid or put out some one-liter sodas, and my sister and I would get out the plates, cups, and utensils. Once everything was ready, it was time to eat and share not just food but conversation, stories, and a brief escape from the everyday struggles that so many of our guests faced.
Our table became a sanctuary, a place where everyone was welcome, and where the only thing required of you was to take a seat, share a meal, and be part of the community.
Over the years, the philosophy that my mom and dad, JoeAnn and Monroe Ballard, lived by — one of sharing, generosity, and creating community through food — became the foundation of Neighborhood Christian Centers (NCC). We’ve taken what was once a family tradition and scaled it to serve
thousands of our neighbors in need.
Today, NCC utilizes a combined food service approach that maintains a sense of dignity and respect for those we serve. We understand that food is more
than just sustenance; it’s a way to show love, to build relationships, and to uplift those who may be struggling.
The reality is that many of the 25,000 individuals and families we serve at NCC live on incomes of less than $12,000 a year. When you’re faced with that kind of financial strain, the choices are heart-wrenching: Do you pay the rent, or do you buy groceries? Do you pay for your child’s medication, or do you put food on the table?
All too often, food becomes the last priority, the need that goes unmet.
To address this, our Food Distribution and Food Sharing models are designed to meet people where they are and to provide food in a way that respects their dignity and choices.
We offer various levels of food packaging and distribution, including Emergency Food Boxes, Daily Meal Bags, Neighbor Choice Days, and hot meals for our extended day programs, summer programs, and some fall programs.
Each of these models is carefully designed to ensure that no one goes hungry and that everyone can access the nutritious food they need.
One of my favorite ways that our team serves food is through our Neighbor Choice Food Stations. Renee Crayton, Herman Britton and Joe Williams have taken this concept to new heights. They set up these food stations right where our neighbors live, so that they can come out, just footsteps from their homes, and choose the foods they’d like for their families.
It’s a simple concept, but it’s powerful. It gives people the agency to choose what they want to eat, rather than just accepting whatever they’re given. This respect for choice and dignity is at the heart of what we do at NCC.
Another food-sharing experience that brings me great joy is when volunteers sponsor a meal for one of our programs. Whether it’s a group of youth or adults in session that day, seeing them sit down to a meal that has been prepared with love and care is truly special.
Sometimes, they’ll even eat family-style at the table, sharing not just food but laughter and conversation. While sandwiches, a snack cake, and a juice box are staples that are certainly needed most days here at NCC, there’s something magical about seeing the smile on someone’s face when they’re served a chicken casserole and some good old-fashioned yeast rolls.
It’s a reminder that food is not just about nourishment; it’s about creating moments of joy and connection.
When it comes to our Emergency Food Boxes, we are incredibly grateful for the array of canned goods and other non-perishable items that so many people donate to us or are provided through our community partners. These boxes are often a lifeline for families and individuals who are facing food insecurity. And when we receive donations of frozen meat, it’s truly a blessing.
I still remember a story one of our team members shared about rolling out a food box to a neighbor. When she saw the frozen packages of meat on top of the box, tears welled up in her eyes. She kept saying, “Thank you, thank you. I haven’t had meat in a while.”
It’s moments like these that remind us of the profound impact that a simple gift of food can have on someone’s life.
At NCC, we are proud to serve our neighbors in need, and we know that we can only do this work with the support of individuals, organizations, businesses, and partnerships.
Whether it’s through food collections, signing up to cook a meal with family or friends, making Daily Meal Bags, or sitting down to eat with a group of youth or adults, every act of service helps to build a stronger, healthier Memphis.
But the work is far from done. Food insecurity is a persistent issue in our community, and the challenges are growing. The rising cost of living, the lingering effects of the pandemic, and systemic inequities all contribute to the struggle that so many of our neighbors face.
At NCC, we are constantly looking for ways to expand our food programs, to reach more people, and to ensure that everyone who needs help can get it. We are also committed to not just providing food but to offering a holistic approach that addresses the root causes of poverty and food insecurity.
This means offering job training programs, educational opportunities, and other resources that can help people move beyond crisis and into stability. It means advocating for policies that support low-income families and working
to create a community where everyone has access to the basic necessities of life.
As we move forward, we invite you to join us in this work. Whether you can give your time, your resources, or simply your voice, there is a place for you at the table. Together, we can continue the legacy that my mom and dad started so many years ago—a legacy of sharing, of community, and of ensuring that no one in our city goes hungry.
In the end, it’s about more than just food. It’s about love. It’s about showing our neighbors that they matter, that they are seen, and that they are valued. It’s about building a community where everyone has a place at the table.
So, the next time you sit down to a meal, take a moment to think about those who may not have that same opportunity, and consider how you might help to change that. Because when we come together to share what we have, we create something beautiful, something that nourishes the body and the soul.
