Meet Sarah: five years of Thursday mornings at the pantry

Sarah started coming to the pantry on Thursday mornings in early 2020, not long after she'd been moved onto Universal Credit and the sums stopped adding up the way they used to. She remembers the first visit clearly: she sat in her car outside for ten minutes before she came in.

"I'd told myself all sorts of stories about what it would be like," she says. "Someone checking a clipboard, judging what was in my trolley, that kind of thing. It wasn't like that at all. Marcus was on the door that day, he just said 'morning, kettle's on if you want a brew while you wait,' and that was it. Nobody asked me anything."

That first Thursday became most Thursdays. Then, about eight months in, she started staying behind after her own shop to help pack bags for the next session. "I had the time, and it felt strange just taking and never giving anything back, even though everyone kept telling me I didn't owe them that."

Five years on, Sarah runs the pantry morning end to end — the rota, the stock rotation, the awkward conversations when a fridge donation arrives ten minutes before opening and needs sorting fast. She still uses the food rescue kitchen herself some weeks, same as anyone else who walks in.

"That's the bit people find hardest to get their head round," she says. "That the person organising the veg boxes might also be taking one home. I don't think that should be a secret, and I don't think it should be a surprise either. Most of our long-term volunteers have used the pantry themselves at some point. It's not a pipeline from 'service user' to 'volunteer' like it's a promotion. We're just the same community, taking turns being the one who needs a hand."

Asked what's changed in five years, Sarah doesn't talk about numbers first. "The washing machine queue at the launderette used to be the only place you'd bump into people going through the same thing and not have to explain yourself. Thursday mornings here have become that too. That's the actual point of this place, if you ask me — the food matters, obviously it matters, but the not-having-to-explain-yourself matters just as much."

She's back on the door most Thursdays by 9am, kettle already on.