The Day SNAP Benefits Ended: What Hunger Really Looks Like

This November, millions of Americans lost their SNAP benefits, the very safety net that once kept food on the table for families already struggling to make ends meet.

I haven’t been able to sleep thinking about it. Because I know what it feels like to be hungry, and to be terrified of what happens when the help runs out.

When I think about these cuts, I don’t just think as a social worker or an advocate. I think as someone who’s lived on both sides of need. I’ve been the one who gives, and the one who receives. I’ve been the Good Samaritan stopping to help a stranger, and I’ve also been the traveler lying by the roadside, praying someone would stop for me.

That’s the part we don’t talk about enough: sometimes, the Good Samaritan also needs saving.

A Life Shaped by Helping

From the time I was a little girl, I was drawn to helping others. If there was a way to serve, whether it was collecting cans for a food drive, helping an elderly neighbor carry groceries, or volunteering at church, I was there. The cause didn’t matter; what mattered was that someone needed help, and I was able to give it.

Decades later, I’m still that same helper. However, I now view the work of helping others through a very different lens.

The Cost of Living — and the Cost of Compassion

Across the country, the cost of living continues to rise. In cities like New York, rent devours half your paycheck, milk costs six dollars a gallon, and raising a family feels like an act of endurance.

For many, food insecurity has gone from a headline to a daily reality, and the loss of SNAP has only deepened the ache.

In the Episcopal Church, and in so many other faith communities, feeding ministries have become a sacred response. Every week, churches open their doors, offering bags of groceries or warm meals to those in need. Behind those efforts are devoted volunteers: retirees, parents, students, and parishioners. Their hearts are full. Their intentions are good.

But here’s the truth we rarely name: many of those serving at food pantries have never stood in line at one. And while compassion drives them, experience transforms them.

I know, because I’ve stood on both sides of that table.

Both Giver and Receiver

Yes, I’ve been the person passing out bags of produce, smiling and saying, “God bless you.” But I’ve also been the one in line, waiting to receive a bag myself.

And that might surprise you.

After all, I’m a woman with four master’s degrees and two doctoral degrees. But I was once a homeless teen, and today I’m a blind woman navigating a world that still puts barriers in front of people with disabilities.

The Reality of Disability and Underemployment

Over the last two years, I’ve applied for more than 400 jobs. I’ve had only three interviews. None resulted in a full-time job offer.

Employers often don’t know how to handle someone who’s disabled. In my situation, they see my guide dog before they see my qualifications. They worry about liability or assume I’ll need “too many accommodations.”

And even when employers do hire disabled people, it’s often part-time. They can claim to be inclusive, without actually paying a living wage or offering benefits to their employees. It’s called “underemployment,” but what it really means is living on the edge of exhaustion and poverty, no matter how hard you work.

I work multiple part-time jobs to make a living.

This Is What Hunger Looks Like

Despite all that work, my income remains unpredictable. Teaching is contract-based; no summer classes means no summer paycheck. And like millions of others, I have children to feed, a mortgage to pay, and bills that don’t pause for hardship.

This is what hunger looks like in 2025.

It’s not always the person sleeping on a park bench. It’s the parent working multiple jobs who still can’t afford groceries. It’s the senior deciding between medicine and meals. It’s the family quietly standing in the pantry line after dark.

It’s the person sitting next to you in church, smiling on Sunday morning, crying alone on Monday night.

It’s people like me.

The Lessons Hunger Teaches

When you’ve been on both sides, the giver and the receiver, it changes everything about how you see the world.

When I volunteer now, I notice the details:
Are the bags filled with food that can be eaten without a kitchen?
Are there options for people with allergies or specific dietary needs?
Is the space accessible for someone using a wheelchair or a white cane?
Are people greeted with dignity or suspicion?

These questions matter.

If you’ve never used a pantry, you might not think about them. You might assume everyone has a fridge. Or that it’s not humiliating to ask for help. Or that it’s no big deal to stand in the rain for an hour.

But hunger teaches empathy in ways nothing else can.

Holy Work, Not Hero Work

Volunteering at a food pantry is holy work. But it isn’t about being the hero. It’s not about giving to “those poor people.” It’s about standing alongside your neighbors in solidarity, recognizing that any of us could be in their place.

The first time I stood in a pantry line, I was eighteen years old, and I felt a deep sense of shame. I kept my head down, terrified someone might recognize me.

But what I remember most wasn’t the food, it was the volunteer who handed me the bag and said, “We’re glad you’re here.”

She didn’t ask for my story or try to fix my life. She just made me feel seen.

That’s what every person deserves, whether they’re serving or being served.

Teaching My Daughters About Compassion

My husband and I don’t hide these realities from our daughters. We openly discuss how society can fail individuals, even those who work hard, play by the rules, and still struggle.

We teach them that faith isn’t about pretending everything is fine. It’s about recognizing suffering and responding with love.

Right now, our girls are running a microwavable food drive out of our home, collecting ready-to-eat meals for people who don’t have access to a kitchen. They sort, label, and pack the food themselves. We talk about who these meals will reach and why this work matters.

We remind them that Jesus wants you to help others, not out of pity, but out of shared humanity.

This is how we live our faith as a family: not by shielding our children from hardship, but by showing them that compassion is an active, everyday choice.

A Call to Radical Hospitality

If you’ve never needed a food pantry, I’m grateful for that — truly. But if you’re going to volunteer, ask yourself:
Would I eat what’s in this bag?
Would I feel comfortable standing in this line?
Would I feel safe here?
Would I feel welcome?

If the answer is no, then change it.

Create the kind of ministry that reflects the radical hospitality of Christ. Make space for the person who doesn’t look like you, talk like you, or worship like you.

Make room for the person who once was you — or who still could be you, if just a few things in life had gone differently.

Because volunteering isn’t about charity, it’s about compassion.

It’s about seeing the image of God in every person who walks through that door.

Feeding Body and Soul

And now, in the wake of the SNAP cuts, we must remember: the people who’ve lost that support are not statistics, they are parents, elders, and workers enduring one of the most stressful and frightening times in their lives.

Many are disabled, working part-time jobs, doing everything “right,” and still falling through the cracks.

They need more than food.
They need understanding, stability, and hope.

Yes, it’s about giving food.
But more importantly, it’s about giving dignity, compassion, and love.

Because sometimes, that’s what feeds the soul most of all.