Cultivating Joy at the Senior Center

By Josh Singleton | Founder, The Neighborhood Garden Project

For the past few years, we’ve been bringing fresh vegetables from the garden to the Katy Senior Center. At first, it was just a way to share some produce. But over time, it’s turned into something more. It’s not just about the food anymore—it’s about the people. About connection. About showing up with love.

Every time we visit, we’re met with smiles, laughter, and sometimes tears. One woman recently told us that she had started following a Mediterranean diet to improve her health. The day we showed up with tomatoes, cucumbers, and peppers, she said it felt like an answer to prayer. That food was confirmation that she was on the right path.

Most folks ask, “Where’s your garden?” And when we tell them it’s less than a minute down the road, they’re surprised. But this has never been about trying to get people into the garden. It’s about bringing the garden to them. About letting love travel the short distance between two neighbors.

We don’t deliver on a set schedule. We just bring what we have, when we have it. Some weeks it’s a big harvest. Other weeks, it’s just a few handfuls. But no matter what, we show up. Because we believe that what’s been given to us should be shared. And somehow, it always seems to show up right when someone needs it.

According to the U.S. Census, over 13% of Katy’s population is 65 or older. That means more than one in ten of our neighbors are in a season where healthy food and kind connection really matter. Many are on fixed incomes. Groceries keep getting more expensive. Even a simple bag of vegetables can make a real difference, offering not just nutrition, but also dignity and relief.

Fresh vegetables help the body—lowering blood pressure, reducing inflammation, and supporting better health. But they also do something else. They stir up memories. Stories come pouring out. Almost every time we deliver, someone tells us about their grandfather’s garden. Or how they used to shell peas with family on the porch. Or the smell of fried okra in a hot kitchen.

And more often than not, someone says the same thing we’ve heard again and again:

“Nothin’ tastes as good as a homegrown tomater.”

That’s the real beauty of this. The vegetables help. But it’s the stories, the smiles, the memories—that’s what stays with people. That’s what brings healing. That’s what reminds folks they’re not alone.

This is the kind of harvest we care about most. Not just food in a bucket, but presence in a moment. Not just nutrition, but relationship. Not just a visit, but something lasting.

That’s why we keep showing up. And we always will.