Some of my favorite memories with my sons were made early Saturday mornings, delivering meals and checking in on homebound seniors through the VNA Meals on Wheels program.
Volunteering together through the Young Men’s Service League (YMSL) became a meaningful part of our family rhythm — one that offered more than just community service. Over time, we weren’t just dropping off meals, we were building relationships, exchanging stories, and learning the value of simply showing up.
During the pandemic, when in-person visits were paused, a small group of in-house volunteers continued deliveries, while my sons and I checked in virtually each week. Even a phone call, we discovered, could make a difference.
During the winter storm of 2020, a familiar voice — trembling and anxious — called my phone. One of the seniors on our route had lost heat, and her single blanket wasn’t enough to keep the cold at bay. She had written down my number, she explained, because she had no family to reach out to in an emergency. As I spoke with her, trying to offer comfort while explaining that VNA protocol wouldn’t allow me to help outside of our registered hours, my sons jumped into action.
Before I could finish the conversation, they had packed a space heater and two heavy blankets into my son’s Jeep.
Despite freezing roads and public warnings to stay home, they insisted on going. Hours later, the sound of tires crunching on our icy driveway brought a wave of relief.
Neighborhood Spotlight
Preston Hollow
“How can we sit by the fire with warm blankets while someone is alone and shivering?” my oldest asked that night.
This month, I interviewed a mother and son who share a similar story of connection through service. Volunteering together at a food pantry in South Dallas, they’ve found their own meaning through YMSL. (The full story appears on page 18.)
As I listened to them describe their experience, I was reminded of the many weekends my boys and I spent organizing produce and restocking shelves at Aunt Bette’s Food Pantry — a vital resource that serves over 750 households and distributes more than 700,000 pounds of food each year.
The community pantry began as a grassroots effort and continues to grow, thanks in part to the enduring legacy of its namesake, Bette Perot — a passionate advocate in the fight against hunger. Her impact reached St. Philip’s School and Community Center in 1989, and she played a pivotal role in founding the North Texas Food Bank. In 2019, the Perot family honored her with a $2 million gift to support the pantry’s long-term future.
Volunteer work taught my sons lessons that go far beyond community service hours. It shaped how they see the world — and how they show up in it.
And for me, it provided something just as meaningful: time spent teaching empathy and commitment while we all learned a bit more about our neighbors — something that often gets lost in the busyness of our lives.
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