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Well, it started with food.
 

I was working with people in recovery. Whenever I could, I brought homemade meals or fresh bread to the transitional houses I visited and to the agencies I worked with. 

Food was simply the most natural way I knew to tell someone they mattered. It was a way of saying thank you for the work you are doing and thank you for trusting me to help you.
 

Bringing those meals connected me to the people I was serving.
 

One day, a man named Frank told me he had written his autobiography while he was in prison. The only copy existed in two handwritten notebooks that he carried with him everywhere he went. He hoped to publish it someday, but didn't know where to start.
 

He gave me those notebooks to read.
 

I took them home, typed every page, and began helping him edit the manuscript. I knew I needed to help him get his story published and his voice heard.
 

Before I read his story, I knew Frank the way a case manager knows someone. I knew his history, his goals, and the barriers he was trying to overcome.
 

After I read it, I knew him as a person. I saw painful things we shared from our childhood experiences. I understood him much more than I ever would have otherwise.  

Understanding someone naturally increases your empathy. I believe our world desperately needs more empathy.
 

That experience became the beginning of the Human Voices Archive Project.

Though these projects may at first appear unrelated, they share a common message.
 

Preparing a meal from scratch tells someone they're worth your time.

Listening to their story tells them the same thing.
 

That's what The Common Table Foundation exists to do. Whether we're sharing a meal, preserving someone's life story, publishing creative work, or bringing people together around a table, we're trying to communicate one simple idea:
 

You are worth the time.