Spending time in the archives of Meals on Wheels is a little like opening a family photo album. Some pages bring instant recognition. Familiar faces. Moments that prompt an easy smile and a quiet, “I remember that.” Other pages raise different questions. Who is that? When did this happen? How did this moment shape what came next?
Both reactions matter. Together, they tell the story of a service shaped not by a single moment or individual, but by generations of care.
This truth became clear early in the creation of this series, when two longtime staff members, Gail and Patty, sat down with the team to review the archives and help imagine what stories might be told. In their hands, the books felt less like records and more like living things. Each photograph sparked a memory. Each newspaper clipping carried context no caption could hold. Names were recalled, routes remembered, personalities brought back to life. The pages did not simply document history. They invited it into the room.
Later, another moment quietly echoed that experience. While reviewing photographs from the 25th anniversary celebration, a familiar scene appeared. The very same archive books were laid out on a table as guests arrived. Volunteers lingered over them, flipping pages at their own pace, recognizing faces, pointing things out to one another. The books were not centrepieces or displays. They were something to be shared. Something to be held.
It was a gentle reminder that this act of remembering has always been communal.
Of course, no album is complete. Some faces go unnamed. Some stories were never recorded. Countless volunteers, neighbours, drivers, callers, and supporters shaped this service in ways that exist only in memory. They are remembered by the clients who looked forward to a knock at the door, by fellow volunteers who shared a route, by staff who witnessed quiet acts of kindness repeated day after day.
This series was never meant to capture every story. That was impossible from the start. Instead, it offered glimpses. Moments. A way of honouring the many hands that built and sustained a service rooted in dignity and care.
Sixty years on, the album remains open.
Meals are still being delivered. Volunteers still show up. New stories are being lived every day. And one day, someone else will turn these pages, recognize a face, ask a question, and add another memory to the story.
Because this is how Meals on Wheels endures. Not just through records kept, but through people remembered, and through care passed along, one generation at a time.
