Hey friend,
Let me tell you about James.
He’s a single dad to two of the coolest kids, smart, curious, full of questions. They started coming to Table when things got tight. One morning, James said, “It’s not just the food. My kids feel comfortable here. Like we’re just a normal family out for breakfast, not a family barely scraping by.” Then he grinned and added, “Also, my girl loves the salad. And I’m not gonna lie, I’m here for the cinnamon roll.” That moment stuck with me.
Because yes, we serve meals. A lot of family meals, over 5000 since 2024. But that’s not really the point.
What we’re offering is dignity. Joy. A place where you can just be a family. Where it feels safe to laugh over waffles, to be known, to belong.
That’s what makes A Place at the Table different. It’s not just about food, it’s about what happens around the food. It’s about people walking in feeling unsure, and walking out feeling full in every sense of the word.
And the truth? More folks are walking through our doors than ever before. Especially now.
If you read our last note and saw this news article today, you know what’s happening: thousands of families across North Carolina are at risk of losing their SNAP benefits (half this month and half can be A LOT for a family), what most of us know as food stamps. That means no help with groceries. No food assistance. Just… gone. Right before the holidays.
It’s devastating. In Wake County alone, over 80,000 of our neighbors rely on SNAP. Many already come to Table. And now, even more will show up, hungry, anxious, and unsure of what’s next.
We haven’t expanded our space. We haven’t grown our staff. But we’re stretching, emotionally, physically, financially, to meet the moment. Because we have to. Because the need is real. Because people like James and his kids are counting on us.
And friend, we’re counting on you. When SNAP cuts and/or disappears, people turn to Table. And Table turns to you.
Every time you give, volunteer, or share what we do, you’re helping us keep the coffee and waffles coming, and way more than that. You’re helping us offer a moment of rest. A safe table. A place to breathe for all of us (even me)..
You’re helping someone feel like they belong.
So thank you. Truly. We’re scrappy. We’re hopeful. And we’re still showing up, because you make it possible.
With so much love and many hugs in this difficult season,
Maggie
PS. We know not everyone can help right now, but if you can, your support means more meals, it means more moments of coffee together and more people feeling like they belong. If you are able, will you join in?