Nashville's Little Pantry offers needy more than food

NASHVILLE — Hunger and necessity bring most people to The Little Pantry That Could — for the first time, at least.

But it's not just the free food that draws them back. Many come to just while away the better part of a day without picking up any food at all.

That's because food pantry founder Stacy Downey and her crew dole out something more than canned beans and sweet potatoes each Saturday from their church cellar.

There's eye contact, for one. And hugs — also free. And everyone gets along on a first name basis.

Downey says these are the essentials to creating a food pantry where no one feels shame when they show up for help. These are the little courtesies that some of the regulars — especially those who live on the streets — can't easily find anywhere else.

"I heard horror stories," Downey said. "People said, 'Oh I was a kid, I had to go to this food pantry. I was so embarrassed. It was terrible.' "

But every Saturday, her regulars show up early and linger late.

"People come here to be part of the atmosphere," she said.

In five years and with hardly any money, Downey has quietly created one of Nashville's most welcoming food pantries. And because of a few simple principles that just made sense when Downey got started, the Little Pantry also ranks among the most innovative. Many of its policies can't be found elsewhere in the city.

For starters, the pantry asks only for a patron's first name, which eliminates the address, identification or birth certificate requirements that turn some away from other pantries.

Patrons can also come back every week.

And, perhaps most unusual, the Little Pantry prides itself on a "client choice" style of food distribution. That means that everyone who comes for food gets to choose what they want from the shelves.

For Downey, this chance to choose motivates her entire mission.

"We think there's dignity in choice," she said. "We don't have a bunch of rules. We treat people like adults who can make decisions."

TIMELY HELP

The disarmingly simple formula has grown the pantry from about a dozen patrons each week to more than 150 these days.

When they visit the pantry this week, they'll learn just how valuable their loyalty has been. On Monday, the Little Pantry became one of three pantries in the state to win $20,000 through a Wal-Mart food pantry makeover contest. A popular vote made the difference.

While Downey has long had her principles pinned down, her pantry has nevertheless known precarious financial times. The grant will go toward a new commercial freezer, a van for food runs and seating for the growing weekly crowd.

"Our shelving units, they're kind of loaners and are being held together with zip ties," she said. "Our tables are literally caving in from the produce."

Still, each week, shoppers arrive ready for a good time.

As the regulars shuffled down the concrete steps into the pantry one recent Saturday, Downey rounded up the first-time volunteers for a pep talk.

Whatever they expected, Downey made clear their mission. The Little Pantry, she told them, is about something more than putting food into a bag.

"If you can look a person in the eye and make them feel good about being here, make them comfortable, let them know that you care that they're here, that you're glad they're here, that's what's up," Downey said. "There are a lot of places that people go and are made to feel small.

"These folks come from all different walks of life," she continued. "Some are without homes. Some are addicts. Some are grannies and nurses and families and little kids and single dads. We're building this community, and this family here, from all walks of life."

With that, the morning of paired shopping could begin.

For Lanny West, a longtime volunteer, walking the aisles is his time to ooh and aah over all the food donated in the past week.

To one woman, he touted a chicken casserole in the freezer. For another, he pointed out the canned options until one of his favorite shoppers settled on chili.

UNCONDITIONAL LOVE

The way Joe Greenwood sees it, there's never been another time as desperate for a place like the Little Pantry.

"It's an avalanche," he said. "Everybody's got their finger in the dike, but the flood's still coming."

Like many of the regulars, Greenwood speaks from two perspectives. From one, he speaks from the experience of living out of his truck, battling alcoholism and thankful for the food and supplies the pantry offers to absolutely everyone who shows up, regardless of their situation.

From the other, he's a provider — one of several shoppers-turned-volunteers who are ready at a moment's notice to do whatever the pantry needs.

"It's so much more than food," Greenwood said. "It builds this community. There are no questions asked. It's an unconditional love."

Downey, whose outreach addresses homelessness in many ways, estimates that there are about 70 unhoused people in the area around her pantry.

Gaining their trust — and ultimately visiting their camps to better understand their food and supply needs — took Downey several years. And because of their addictions, some remain hard to reach.

But Downey knows the benefits for those who spend time at the pantry.

"It's really hard to come in here and remain standoffish," she said. "They're gonna get hugged on. They're gonna break down. Every single one of them."

Downey means it. Eddie Trent knows it.

Trent, 72, can't do much with free food while he lives in the woods. But he knows the pantry community will help with other needs.

"They ask for clothes, they get clothes," he said. "Any kind of way, every kind of way, she helps people. Regardless of what their story is, they can come by on Saturday and get some food."

Or, at least, some conversation, a hug, a caring look, and a little camaraderie.