"We Fed Hundreds. They Fed Our Souls"
Community Story • San Antonio, TX
Our ISG team — red aprons on, hearts wide open, and approximately 400 bags of chips on the table.
There's something about putting on a red apron that changes you. One minute you're a regular person, maybe a little nervous, wondering if you'll say the right thing. The next minute — you're part of something bigger than yourself. That's exactly what happened when members of our ISG community joined As Thyself Ministries on a beautiful, breezy day in San Antonio to feed our unhoused neighbors.
And let me tell you — it was an experience.
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We showed up. That was the first miracle.
It started early. Tables were set up in the park under a canopy of oak trees that looked like they'd been doing this kind of witnessing for centuries. Our team arrived in full force — red aprons on, hearts wide open, and a suspicious amount of Doritos on the table. Seriously. There were so many chip bags. Nacho Cheese. Cool Ranch. Some mystery flavors that nobody could identify but everyone was willing to try.
Hot take: We served hot dogs, rice, and all kinds of good food — but somehow it was the Doritos that had people's eyes lighting up the most. Note to future volunteers: chips are apparently a universal language. Consider this your official fundraising tip.
The real thing — volunteers and community members side by side, making it happen.
As people began arriving — on foot, on bikes, in wheelchairs, some with everything they owned on their backs — there was a moment where the noise of the city seemed to quiet down. What replaced it was something softer. Hellos. Thank-yous. Laughter. The sound of plates being filled.
"You don't volunteer to feel good about yourself. You volunteer and then you realize — these are people with stories, with humor, with dignity. And somehow, in a few hours, they become part of your story too."
— ISG volunteer reflectionThe line stretched all the way back through the oak trees — a quiet, powerful reminder of how much this day meant.
A line that stretched all the way to your heart.
By the time the serving began, there was a line stretching under the oak trees and around the bend — dozens and dozens of people. A gentleman in a wheelchair rolled up with the biggest smile, cracking jokes while our volunteers heaped food onto his plate. An elderly woman quietly said "God bless you, baby" to one of our team members — and that team member may or may not have held back tears for the next ten minutes. (We are not naming names.)
Children from the volunteer team were right there in the mix — little hands helping to pass out chips, bananas, cups of orange juice — doing the work that their parents were doing, learning lessons no classroom could ever teach. If that doesn't restore your faith in the next generation, we don't know what will.
Banana update: There were bananas on the table. A lot of them. At one point someone counted over 40 bananas lined up in a row and whispered, "This is the most organized thing I've seen all week." Community service is also, apparently, deeply relatable chaos.
Bananas. Juice. Chips. Hot food. And a whole lot of love — the full spread that made it all happen.
We came to give. We left having received.
Here's the thing nobody tells you about volunteering: you think you're going to show up, do good, and go home feeling like a hero. And maybe you do feel that. But somewhere between plating food and passing napkins and accidentally dropping a tray of chips (hypothetically), something shifts. You stop thinking about what you're giving and start noticing what's happening around you.
People hugging. Strangers becoming friends. Someone getting a second helping because "that rice was really good." A dog — yes, someone's beloved dog — getting petted by approximately seven volunteers in a row. Community, in its most unfiltered, unscripted form.
Our team from ISG showed up as volunteers. They left as something more — as neighbors. As humans who understand a little bit more about what it means to see another person, really see them, and show up for them.
"Love your neighbor as yourself." — That's the heartbeat behind As Thyself Ministries, and after today, it's a little more alive in each of us too.
Your turn to wear the apron.
If this story stirred something in you — a warmth, a nudge, maybe just a really strong craving for Doritos — pay attention to that. That's the feeling that makes the world better when you act on it. Volunteering doesn't require perfection. It doesn't require experience. It just requires you to show up.
And San Antonio has need. Every single week, there are people sleeping under the stars of this beautiful, proud city who would be moved by nothing more than a warm plate of food and someone looking them in the eye and saying, "Here. This is for you."
One last thing: If you're worried you'll be awkward or say the wrong thing — yes, you probably will. At least once. Welcome to the club. One of our volunteers accidentally called a guest "sir" four times before realizing she was talking to a woman. The woman laughed. They hugged. That's community. It's messy and it's beautiful and it's so worth it.
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