Hunger in the house next door: What relying on food banks looks like
With a small pension that covers the essentials, the rest — like food — comes from the help of others
Deborah Price sits on her couch where she likes to knit. In the middle of her living room stands a Christmas tree.
Her house in Mount Pearl, just west of St. John's, is full of decorations for the season, one being a picture of her 15-year-old daughter.
At first glance at a living room full of light, Price says, it wouldn't cross someone's mind that her kitchen is empty and it has been more than a day since she had something to eat.
"Hunger is in a lot more places than people realize," Price told CBC News.
Price, a former pharmacy technician who has a disability that has forced her, for now, out of the workforce, relies almost entirely on food banks for her meals.
Hunger, Price said, is a terrible aching pain, growls that don't stop, and the constant asking from the body for food.
"A slice of bread and butter with a glass of milk," she said. "We've had days where we didn't even have that in the fridge."
Price is just one of hundreds of people who line up at food banks across Newfoundland and Labrador and across the country.
According to a recent report by Food Banks Canada, visits to food banks have increased by 44 per cent in the past four years.
"The first time I ever thought about going to the food bank I thought, 'Oh my God, how am I going to do this? What are people going to think?'" she said.
"I felt really guilty and really ashamed. I cried the whole way there and I cried the whole way home."
Price said she never would have believed that she would end up here.
"I never let myself think about getting to this place because I never thought in a million years I ever would," she said. "And then when I got here, I didn't know how to cope with it."
She said she remembers the times before she got sick and had to leave work, when she didn't worry too much about money.
She and her two children — the oldest son is now living out of the house — would go on car rides. That was 10 years ago when she chipped away, year after year, at her savings.
In 2019, she started going to a food bank.
However, the food hamper she receives once a month only lasts for so long.
One pack of hamburger meat, one pack of hotdogs, homemade bread, butter, milk and canned food. She tries to stretch the amount to cover as many meals as possible. Sometimes she sacrifices her own meals for her daughter, and other times it's because there is nothing left.
"This is the face of hunger," Price said.
No shame in asking for help
The house she lives in is a rental unit provided by Newfoundland and Labrador Housing. The family's only income is a few hundred dollars from a pension that her daughter receives from her father's death and a provincial child benefit payment.
Price said she isn't ashamed anymore to ask for help. She is well aware of the stigma, of the judgment faced by people who are asking for help.
"I want a hand up, not a handout. I want to be a productive member of society. But right now, income support would be wonderful for me," she said.
Food operators in St. John's told CBC News they are seeing more and more new faces showing up at the food bank each month.
Price said hunger could be anywhere.
"Hunger doesn't have to be down and out hunger. Hunger is living inside a home, probably next door, in the house with the Christmas tree in the window," she said.
She encourages anyone in a similar situation to not feel ashamed to ask for help.
Although the day she had to go to the food bank was filled with guilt and shame, she said the food bank — at Mary Queen of the World Church — didn't make her feel alone. Instead, they greeted her with open arms.
"Don't be ashamed to say you're hungry. Don't be ashamed to say 'I need help,' because somebody out there will always hopefully be able to help you."
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