On Wednesday evenings in Chicago’s Old Town neighborhood, a crowd starts to gather in one of the buildings on the LaSalle Street Church campus. They’re drawn by the enticing aromas and warm community of the Breaking Bread soup kitchen, a Food Depository partner.
Guest Jim Robertson joins a table of men he’s come to know as friends. He was the vice president of a bank until health issues necessitated a liver transplant, upending his financial status when he was unable to work for months. “Northwestern and God saved me,” he says. Robertson now survives on Social Security and disability benefits and must be careful about what he eats.

Breaking Bread guests enjoying each other's company before dinner begins. Photos by Lily Qi for the Food Depository.
“My copays for my medicines make me poor,” he says, adding that he barely affords his modest apartment.
“If not for the Food Depository, I don’t know what I’d do. I’m very grateful for this place.”
A personal touch
As the tables start to fill up, Pastor Julie Welborn, coordinator of the meal program, greets the Breaking Bread guests with her usual question: “What’s the good news?”
Eddie speaks excitedly about his new apartment. Delaney, who needs assistance to get around, shares that she walked further this week than she has in a while. Paul mentions gratitude for someone who’s now helping him search for a job.

Cook Keith Richardson prepares to welcome guests to the taco bar.
After a few announcements, the tables are released one by one to visit the taco bar created by cook Keith Richardson, who helped found Breaking Bread 20 years ago. Richardson, 69, learned to cook from his mom and was moved to help start the program by the unmet needs in the community – needs he’s known firsthand.
Richardson was unhoused and unemployed before he started working for the church. He now makes dinner for about 80 of his neighbors every Wednesday night with ingredients he receives from the Food Depository.
“People can taste that I cook with love,” he says.

Service coordinator Francis Little encourages others to participate in the night’s activity by kicking off karaoke with a Lionel Richie song.
While Richardson handles the meal, Francis Little oversees the room and the volunteers, making sure the guests have a smooth experience. Breaking Bread used to bring meals to his apartment building, now he ensures that others receive a hot meal as well as a caring community.
“We want people to be able to leave their worries at the door,” Little says. “And leave with a smile on their face.”
Jordan Alexander, a guest in his 50s, appreciates the personal touch. “I’m a sucker for a homemade meal,” he says. “The people here are always loving and friendly. They do wonderful work.”

Guest Jordan Alexander digs into dinner.
Dual needs
The guests at Breaking Bread are as diverse as the neighborhood, which includes subsidized senior housing, multiple coffee shops and high-end condos. On Wednesday evenings, the tables are filled with residents of the nearby senior buildings, guests who are unhoused and a new influx of young individuals and families struggling to get by.
Welborn says most of the guests share two things in common. “We see people who are hungry and lack community,” she says.

Meriam Celenin and Edita Merza like to sit together at Breaking Bread.
She and the rest of the Breaking Bread staff work hard to meet both of these important needs. They celebrate birthdays each month with cupcakes. They engage the group with activities. (Tonight, it’s karaoke!) They serve the guests at their tables and decorate each with seasonal décor.
Before they leave, guests are invited to visit several tables with protein shakes, canned goods and other items to help them through the coming week, all provided by the Food Depository.

After dinner, guests select food to take home with them.
Welborn recently invited a Food Depository staff member to join them one week to help guests sign up for Supplemental Nutrition Assistance Program benefits. She’s able to accomplish this comprehensive service with “an amazing volunteer base,” Welborn says.
Kendall Fleder, 29, became a volunteer after investigating the line she saw coming out of the door every Wednesday night. After walking in herself, she met Welborn, saw the meal program in action and has been back nearly every Wednesday since to serve the guests dinner and help clean up after.

Pastor Julie Welborn loves her volunteers, including Kendall Fleder.
Three years later, “Breaking Bread feels like family,” she says.
“This place brightens my day. I hope it does the same for the guests.”
A communal meal
Marla Dickholtz has been volunteering at Breaking Bread for the past year. Tonight, she’s greeting people at the door, welcoming guests to fill out a nametag and take a seat. She lives next door in a senior housing building, where her Social Security benefits barely cover her rent.
“We’re all one meal away from a crisis,” Dickholtz says, looking over the crowd. “I enjoy the social aspect here, being around people and making sure they’re fed.” She says she’ll enjoy a meal tonight as well because she doesn’t cook much anymore. “We’re all happy this place is here.”

Guests receive a respectful and dignified experience.
As karaoke kicks off in the background, a guest named Natalie says she was drawn to Breaking Bread in large part by the community. The food is also important as she does her best to make ends meet on her disability benefits. “It’s a nice place to come gather with people and enjoy a meal together,” she says. “I’ve met friends here.”
Words like these keep Welborn and her team encouraged that they’re meeting their goals. “We want our guests to be well taken care of,” she says, “to leave full and happy.”
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