On the concrete sidewalk outside a Little Rock business on North Cross Street, foam lunch plates were stacked four deep along with bottles of water next to makeshift beds of cardboard and bedrolls.
Packages of new hygiene products -- toothbrushes, deodorant and lotion -- lay nearby.
A homeless man burrowed deeper into a dark-brown blanket, shielding his face as he moved closer to a brick wall.
"They're scared. They won't take the meals because they're afraid it's poisoned," said Chantel Allbritton, a Little Rock mother who loaded her two children -- Forest, 12, and Katie, 7 -- into the family car Thanksgiving morning and went in search of someone to feed.
Forest grabs bottles of water from a case on the sidewalk. He dips his head low when asked about his family's Thanksgiving tradition.
"It makes me feel good to help people," he said. "But I don't think it's good to brag about it."
Katie smiles widely as guilt flits across her face. Her mother laughs and tells of how Katie told everyone she met in the grocery store that they were taking food to the homeless.
"I told her that we're not supposed to tell everyone," Chantel Allbritton said, laughing.
"It feels good," Katie chimed.
About halfway through their Thanksgiving mission trip, the Allbrittons came across Pastor Sheila Lambert with the Apostolic Church of Love. Lambert and volunteers from the Covenant Community Church loaded a van full of clothing, blankets, toiletries and plates of food -- including chicken donated by Popeyes Louisiana Kitchen -- and drove to the Markham Street area where homeless people huddle near abandoned buildings.
Chantel Allbritton pointed to a rack of clothes set up on the sidewalk.
"We decided to stay here and help," she said. The groups combined their meal plates and supplies, then worked together to distribute them.
"I just asked the Lord to use me, use all of us, to be a blessing to someone else," Lambert said. "He told me to go to the streets; go where they are. And he made provisions for us to get everything we needed. We're not going to leave as long as they're still coming for food."
It is estimated that more than 2,500 Arkansans are homeless, according to a 2015 report from the U.S. Department of Housing and Urban Development. Accurate numbers are difficult to attain, though, because the homeless move frequently and are difficult to track.
Also, more than 560,000 Arkansans are said to be "food insecure," meaning they cannot afford or do not have access to the food they need to live, according to the 2010 report "Feeding America, Map the Food Gap."
Salvation Army Maj. Roger Glick said nearly 200 people passed through the organization's door in Little Rock for a Thanksgiving dinner.
"It's amazing to bring together 35 strangers who work together in incredible fashion to serve these meals," Glick said. "It just clicks. They have such joy in what they're doing. It's incredible I get to see this."
A walk around the dining hall found many with multiple layers of clothes and jackets holding tightly to black garbage bags or overstuffed backpacks full of belongings.
A young pregnant woman alternated between quickly putting food in her mouth and looking curiously at others around the dining hall.
One man in lively conversation with four of his table mates said he has a home, but no family or friends with whom to share a holiday meal. Phillip Bates, originally from California, has lived in a Little Rock "high rise" for 20 years.
"I don't know how to cook," Bates said. "I come here to meet friends and have a good meal."
Others volunteer, some as a service project for the whole family.
Ayhana Austin, 15, stood in the middle of the Salvation Army dining hall and held up three fingers of a plastic-gloved hand. She and numerous other members of her family wore white T-shirts with the words "Real Challenge, Real Talk, Real Solutions" printed in black.
The eStem student said the words are the motto for her grandmother Fran Kelley's nonprofit organization, Positive People Promotions.
"I like helping," Austin said, then explained that she was in charge of holding up fingers signifying the number of plates needed at the tables.
"Helping people is what it's about," she continued, then laughed. "For me, I'm kinda spoiled. I have a lot. I'm lucky. It's good for me to see others that don't have anything."
Kelley -- who was standing sentry at the pie table and issuing orders to her grandchildren and other youths from her organization who were volunteering -- said Thanksgiving Day "breaks your heart" and puts things into perspective.
"I served two young girls who are homeless with babies today," she said, shaking her head. "Only by the grace of God. That might have been me."
Kelley, a sexual-abuse survivor, got pregnant at 14 and dropped out of high school. She later earned her GED and a college degree from the University of Arkansas at Little Rock.
Seeing the reality of life, especially on a holiday, teaches young people compassion and service, she said.
"They are being taught that they don't have to go that way," Kelley said. "They learn to give back."
Mariah Griffin, 24, said Thursday's meal at the Salvation Army was a big difference from the food she scrounges for on the street. Griffin, who is bipolar and schizophrenic, said she stays at shelters until the allotted time has expired, then she sleeps in alleys or in the doorways of businesses.
She said "Miss Mandy" at Jericho Way Homeless Day Center in Little Rock is helping her to get back on the medications she needs.
"This was a good meal," she said, smiling widely.
Elsewhere, dozens of volunteers began early Thanksgiving morning preparing plates at the Watershed Human and Community Development Agency in Little Rock. The organization delivered meals to those on a list of organizations as well as individuals who had requested meals.
"It's like a well-oiled machine," volunteer Melanie Baden said. "I had the honor of delivering quite a few dinners in homes I would have never otherwise gone into. A gentleman before I left said I need to be 'careful going into these neighborhoods.' Never once was I afraid, just grateful to get to meet new and amazing people, a lot alone or with a caregiver.
"They were grateful and full of joy. Watershed has a truly blended family of volunteers who just want to give on a day that a lot of people spend alone."
In front of an abandoned building in downtown Little Rock, a group of five homeless men stood Thursday and compared their bounty of the day -- plates of hot, cooked food, toiletries and blankets still in their plastic wrappers. A man in a knit cap with the price tag sticking up on the top held up a can of Hormel chili.
"What's a homeless man gonna do with a can of chili?" another man asks as the group breaks into laughter.
Sitting on a concrete parking block, Keon Larry insisted loudly that he was not homeless. He listed the names of friends and relatives who let him sleep on a couch or offer a bed for the night.
"Homeless means you don't have a home of your own," said a man who insisted on being called Kunta Kinte.
"Oh," Larry replied, then nodded to the plate of turkey and dressing in his lap. "This is pretty good. It's a blessing."
A resounding cheer of "Amen" erupted from the crowd.
"It's a blessing I'm alive," said a man who goes by the name Downtown Black. "This is a nice meal, and I'm happy I'm alive."
Metro on 11/25/2016