What If NDG Became a Neighbourhood Where Nobody Ate Alone Unless They Wanted To?
Loneliness doesn't always look lonely.
Sometimes it looks like an elderly man buying one frozen dinner.
Sometimes it is the person in the apartment across the hall whom we have seen hundreds of times but never really met.
Sometimes it is a newcomer who left family and friends thousands of kilometres away.
Sometimes it is a student eating dinner over a laptop.
Sometimes it is a widow setting a table for one after having set it for two for fifty years.
And sometimes it is somebody surrounded by people who still feels completely alone.
We cannot eliminate loneliness from NDG.
But perhaps we can make it much harder for loneliness to remain invisible.
I would love to see a simple community habit spread throughout our neighbourhood:
The Extra Plate
Whenever we're preparing a meal, ordering a pizza, having a barbecue or sitting down for Sunday breakfast, we occasionally ask ourselves:
“Is there somebody nearby who might enjoy sharing this with us?”
Not somebody we need to entertain.
Not necessarily a close friend.
Maybe simply somebody who could use a chair at the table.
Imagine an apartment building where residents occasionally knock on a neighbour's door and say:
“We're having spaghetti. There's plenty. Would you like to join us?”
Imagine a family barbecuing in their backyard inviting the older gentleman next door.
Imagine two university students noticing somebody eating alone and saying, “Come sit with us.”
Imagine restaurants, churches, community organizations and apartment buildings occasionally creating communal tables where the message is wonderfully clear:
If you came alone, you don't have to eat alone.
There is something special about sharing food because eating together doesn't require us to solve one another's problems.
We simply sit.
We pass something across the table.
We talk.
We laugh.
We listen.
And for an hour, perhaps, somebody who has been feeling invisible discovers:
There is still a place for me.
This isn't charity.
It is neighbouring.
And there is an important difference.
Charity can sometimes create a giver and a receiver.
A shared table creates companions.
Everyone brings something—even if the only thing they bring is themselves.
The older neighbour may bring stories.
The newcomer may bring a completely different perspective on the world.
The child brings laughter.
The lonely person may eventually become the person who notices someone else's loneliness.
That is how community multiplies.
So today's A NuVo World challenge is simple:
Think of one person who might appreciate an extra plate.
Maybe invite them today.
Maybe this weekend.
Maybe simply bring them a bowl of whatever you're cooking and stay for a five-minute conversation.
And if they say no, that's perfectly fine.
Because even the invitation says something important:
“I thought about you.”
Imagine thousands of kitchens throughout NDG occasionally preparing not quite enough food for the people who live there—
but enough for one more.
One more chair.
One more bowl.
One more cup of tea.
One more person included.
We talk frequently about food insecurity, housing, healthcare and other enormous challenges—and rightly so.
But human beings hunger for something else too.
Belonging.
Perhaps one of the most powerful things we can serve in NDG isn't found on any menu.
It is the feeling that somewhere nearby there is a table where someone will look up, smile and say:
“Come on in. We saved you a place.”
That's the NDG I want us to build.
A NuVo World — creating a NuVo, better world one day, one person and one extra plate at a time.

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