“I’ve been hungry. That’s why I started it.”

Just east of Highway 69 on Texanna Road sits a single building that houses Thimbles N Thread Quilt Shop, owned by LaDonna McKay. The fab- ric and quilting shop is bright, colorful, and welcoming. Bright bolts of fabric line the walls inside, filling the space with color and light. Attached to the building is a small storage room that McKay uses as a food pantry, secured with a locked door and accessed from outside the store.

The pantry is not open for browsing.

McKay opens it when people come for assistance.

Inside, shelves are lined neatly with canned vegetables and meats. A freezer is stocked with frozen meat. A refrigerator holds cartons of eggs and other food items. Cases of bottled water sit on the floor. The space is modest and functional, arranged so everything is easy to see and easy to reach.

The pantry is small, but its reach extends far beyond the walls of the storage room.

For a little more than a year, that small, attached room has quietly served people in the community who are struggling with food insecurity.

“I’ve been hungry,” McKay said.

“That’s why I started it.”

Years ago, during a difficult period in her life, McKay faced uncertainty she hadn’t expected. She was a single mother then, sharing custody of her children. When they were with her, there were moments when she did not know what she was going to do.

She made sure her children never felt that fear.

They never knew how close things were.

But she did. That experience stayed with her and shaped what she want-ed to create when she opened her shop.

Inside Thimbles N Thread Quilt Shop, rows of colorful fabric line the walls from floor to ceiling. Quilts hang nearby. Sewing supplies are carefully organized. The shop feels calm and welcoming—a place where people linger, talk, and feel at ease.

McKay said she wanted it to be more than a place to buy fabric.

She wanted it to be a place where people felt comfortable.

People who come for food typically enter through the doors of the quilt shop before going next door to the pantry. After making their food selections, many return to the shop instead of leaving right away. Some stay to talk and connect. Some share pieces of their stories. Others sit quietly, simply taking in the atmosphere.

McKay said some people touch the fabric, letting the colors and textures slow them down.

She has seen people come in overwhelmed or emotional, and she said that sometimes being in the space—without having to explain anything—is enough. From there, people move naturally between the shop and the pantry, and the tone does not change.

McKay said the pantry was created with that same sense of care—a safe place where people could come without fear or embarrassment.

McKay said the pantry is not affiliated with any church, nonprofit or organization. She said it is simply her—one person, responding to a need she knows firsthand, doing what she can, one day at a time.

The pantry serves people from the local area and nearby communities. McKay said many who come in are older adults living on fixed incomes. Others rely on food assistance benefits that do not last the entire month. Some come every week. Others come only when they reach the end of their options.

She doesn’t ask many questions.

“You get regulars,” she said.

“You get to know.” There was a time when McKay became discouraged and considered closing the pantry. Unsure of what to do, she prayed, asking whether she was doing what she was supposed to be doing—or whether it was time to stop.

According to McKay, the answer came quickly.

The next day, a man and a woman made a donation. After that, money and donations came from a wide range of people. Food or financial support arrived every day for the next 65 straight days.

McKay said she took the steady flow of support as an answer to her prayer—and a sign that she was supposed to keep moving forward and continue the work she had started.

She said she does not know why the donations continued for that length of time.

Only that they did. Faith continues to guide how the pantry operates. McKay said her faith shapes how she treats people—patiently, without judgment, and with respect. She makes a point of reminding those who come in that they are not begging and that there is no shame in needing help.

Sometimes, she said, people need more than food.

Sometimes they need someone to say it’s going to be okay.

McKay said the shop and pantry are there for the community. Anyone who needs food, conversation or a calm place to pause is welcome to stop by.