75th Annual Interfaith with Governor Josh Shapiro

Jenkintown Food Cupboard Executive Director Lino Ellis joined Governor Josh Shapiro and neighbors of many faiths to reflect on hunger, dignity, and what a community can accomplish when it cares for its own.

Read the speech below:

Good evening, friends.

It is a true honor to stand before you tonight—under one roof, of many faiths, with a shared conviction that real change begins right where you’re sitting: in the company of people who care enough to show up.

On behalf of the Jenkintown Food Cupboard, I want to begin with appreciation.

First, to Temple Beth Am: thank you for your unwavering friendship. Year after year, you’ve gathered thousands of pounds of food, rallied volunteers, and inspired neighbors to give not out of guilt, but out of selflessness. **You remind us that compassion, when organized, becomes community.**

As we enter this season of gratitude, I think back to Thanksgiving’s first table—not a feast of excess, but a covenant of survival. A meal shared so that all might make it through the winter.

That same story unfolds every week at our doors when we welcome neighbors from all walks of life to our table:

A mother on her break between two jobs, waiting in line to feed her family.

An elder weighing the cost of rent against equally necessary medication.

A child whose stomach speaks louder than the teacher.

These neighbors don’t come seeking charity. They come seeking dignity.

And every week, they remind us what that word really means. With their resilience and grace, they teach us each day about dignity. Their courage leaves us only one way to respond—with partnership.

I’m deeply aware that I stand here tonight because of, and on behalf of, so many others:

Our volunteers who lift, load, and love;

Our donors and partners who give their time, their space, their trust;

And most of all, the families we serve.

More than ever, we need the partnership of the community leaders in this room—all of you.

Here’s the truth we see up close: **hunger is not a mystery—it’s a measure.**

**A measure of whether a community believes its people are worth feeding.**

When support programs like SNAP, WIC, TEFAP, and other farming programs are strong, families can step back from the edge.

When those programs are weakened, food banks are flooded, and seniors and parents face choices no one ever should.

Thankfully, again and again, we witness the power of our neighbors and congregations like yours linking arms to fill the gaps.

Last year, with the help of our partners, we moved over **two million pounds** of food—and still, the need outpaced our shelves.

From this small food cupboard in Jenkintown, we’ve grown into one of the county’s largest sources of nourishment and hope.

But what humbles us most isn’t what we give—it’s what we receive.

Every family who walks through our doors teaches us courage, patience, and grace.

They are not the recipients of our mission—they are its heartbeat.

That heartbeat reminds us how vital this work is—and how fragile it can be. Just as vital is the trust between public systems and community strength.

When government listens first to the people it serves, it becomes a true partner.

To the leaders here tonight who choose listening over noise: thank you for standing with the people you serve. We are deeply grateful for you.

Because when public will and community compassion move in the same direction, dignity doesn’t just appear; it spreads. It multiplies.

Every can collected, every dollar donated, every hour volunteered—it all adds up to something greater than food. **It becomes the quiet revolution of human dignity.**

Families who once thought they had to take whatever was left now experience real, equitable choice. And choice, though often taken for granted, is monumental in a life. That choice says: You matter. You belong here. You are welcome.

That is the sermon our volunteers preach every day without saying a word.

So tonight, as we prepare to give, I’m not simply sharing what others have done.

I’m asking what you will do.

Maybe you will use your voice to advocate for fair food policy.

Maybe you will organize a drive in your congregation or school.

Maybe you’ll write a check, volunteer your time, or **simply refuse to look away from the hunger that exists in our community.**

Whatever action you take, know your contribution isn’t just charity—it’s citizenship. It’s faith in action. It’s the everyday miracle of a community taking care of its own.

Our vision is simple: a county where every person’s basic needs are met with dignity and choice. And though that vision can feel distant, every act of compassion brings it closer—each time someone like you decides that another person’s table matters just as much as your own.

To every congregation, volunteer, donor, and community member in this room: thank you for taking up this mission with us.

And to the patrons and families we serve: thank you for your strength, your patience, and your faith in this community and its leaders.

I am truly honored by the generous gift of your time and presence tonight. We will be passing around a basket as an opportunity for you to give here today, and you can always find us on our website or find me in the lobby afterward.

As the basket comes to you, I ask you to please give with purpose, give with joy, give because someone’s tomorrow depends on what you do tonight.

Thank you.