Helping Hands is a limited series highlighting local nonprofit organizations and the people behind their efforts to make a difference in our communities. We'd like to thank our Community Partner, McLane Middleton, for supporting this series. The organizations and stories featured are selected independently by our newsroom and are not influenced by our Community Partner.
Laura Russell spent her career as a middle school teacher talking about the dangers of food insecurity. When she retired in 2023, she figured, “Well, I should put my money where my mouth is.”
That’s what she does every Tuesday at the Warner Food Pantry.
During a shift at the start of June, she bounced from the back room, where she assembled snack bags for clients with children, to the white board, where she wrote all the produce available that day (including broccoli florets, plums and bok choy). At the front, she greeted clients — all of whom she knows by name, and many of whose cars she instantly recognized when they pulled into the parking lot.
“Understanding that everyone walks a different path in life, it’s really important to know that and to be reminded of it,” she said.
The brightly lit pantry has aisles separated by metal shelves stocked with anything from canned green beans to adult diapers. The freezer at the back contains miscellaneous treasures: frozen fruit, popsicles, hamburger meat and even Maryland-style crab cakes, courtesy of a local donor.
In all, it looks like a scaled-down version of a grocery store, complete with three shopping carts. That’s no accident. When clients compare it to Market Basket, “that’s exactly what we want to hear,” Russell said.
Giving patrons agency in what goods they can take home limits their food waste, but beyond that, it simulates normalcy.
“We just try to provide the most dignified, positive, non-judgmental experience with the clients,” said Russell, who taught at the Derryfield School in Manchester for 11 years.
She relishes connecting with others in the community who care about food insecurity as much as she does.
Food Pantry Coordinator Apryl Blood called Russell her “second in command,” someone who communicates with other organizations, like local farms and neighboring food pantries, to garner community support. But Russell sheepishly denies any other title but volunteer.
She grew up outside of Philadelphia and lived in Massachusetts before moving to Warner in 2016 with her husband in search of a more rural, outdoorsy lifestyle.
From her time as a teacher, she took away that food should be accessible, affordable, culturally appropriate and nutritious.
“It’s a sense of justice that food is a human right, and so how do we act on that?” she said.
She remembers a day when a pregnant mother came to the food pantry with her toddler. Like always, Russell gave a tour to the new client. At the sight of fresh fruit, vegetables and protein so readily available, the mother burst into tears of gratitude.
“It’s just wonderful to be able to be generous and to be able to give freely,” Russell said.
She references Maslow’s hierarchy of needs, the psychological theory that people must satisfy lower-level survivalist needs before they can concern themselves with other necessities. That means that shelter (paying rent) and health (paying for medical care) can often come at the expense of fresh, nutritious food. Several times, she has encountered parents who deny themselves meals so that their children can eat. The food pantry is here to take some pressure off, she said.
Seeing people’s nutritional needs fulfilled keeps her coming back week after week, but she also appreciates how working at the food pantry strengthens her empathy.
Under a tent outside the pantry, trays of tomato, lettuce, beet, marigold, squash and basil seedlings sat waiting to be planted in gardens across the area. It was the pantry’s Tray Delivery Day, sponsored by local agricultural organizations to provide seedlings to people with limited access to fresh produce.
Russell’s job: hand out the correct seedlings to people who ordered online. Each patron also left with a bag of compost, some soil, a diagram explaining which seedling will grow into which plant and a small brown paper bag with a quarter of a potato inside.
Her teaching background peeks out as she articulates exactly how to grow a full potato from the small wedge in her hand.
“I like the sense of accomplishment of seeing folks get what they need, that I contributed to it,” she said.
