Grace Anderson
Our Easter outreach was bigger than we expected. Here's the story behind the numbers — and the faces.
We didn't plan for 400 families.
We planned for 200. We ordered supplies for 200. We recruited volunteers for 200. And then Easter weekend came, and the line outside the community centre stretched further than any of us had anticipated — mothers with strollers, elderly couples, teenagers who came alone, fathers who looked like they hadn't slept properly in weeks.
By Saturday afternoon, we had served 400 families. And we had run out of almost everything.
What we got right
Our volunteers. Sixty-three of them showed up across two days — some who had signed up weeks in advance, others who heard about it through a friend and came anyway. They packed bags, carried boxes, directed queues, and prayed with people who asked for it.
One of our volunteers, a woman named Temi who joined Haven Church just six weeks earlier, spent four hours on her feet in the sun handing out food parcels. At the end of the day she said to one of our team leaders: "I didn't know church could feel like this."
That sentence stayed with us.
What surprised us
Need is closer than we think. These 400 families did not travel far to reach us. Most of them live within a two-kilometre radius of our building. They are our neighbours. They walk past our doors every week.
That was humbling. It reminded us that mission is not always about going far — sometimes it's about finally seeing what's been right in front of you.
What we're changing
We're not waiting until Easter next year. Starting in July, Haven Church is launching a monthly community table — a regular outreach morning open to anyone in the neighbourhood who needs a meal, a bag of groceries, and a conversation.
No agenda. No pressure. Just people looking after people.
What it all meant
Easter is, at its core, a story about someone who saw the need of the whole world and decided to do something about it. Our small outreach weekend was a tiny, imperfect reflection of that. But if 400 families went home with something they didn't have before — food in the fridge, a sense that someone noticed them — then we did something worth doing.
