Mercy to Others Ministry: From a Car Trunk to a Movement
In August 2015, Mercy to Others Ministry began the way so many faithful things do — small, uncertain, and out of the back of a car.
Darla Lee drove around Martinsburg, West Virginia, praying over neighborhoods and offering encouragement more than food. But the hunger she saw was real, and bread and sweets weren't going to cut it — especially for folks in active addiction. So she started praying for something better.
Spoiler: she got it.
From a Trunk to a Real Pantry
The ministry became a 501(c)(3) in December 2021 and started weekly distributions at Family Dollar. Then in fall 2023, a grant from Mountaineer Food Bank funded the first freezer and shelving — and just like that, a car-trunk ministry became a genuine indoor pantry.
After that, things took off. Partnerships formed with Capital Heights Kids, C.O.R.E., and the Martinsburg Housing Authority. When federal SNAP benefits were disrupted by a government shutdown in late 2025, state grants stepped in to fill the gap.
And then there's Betty's Bodega — a pantry named for a homeless woman who volunteered at Catholic Charities. It now serves people living in hotels, tents, or on the street twice a week, with everything ready to eat and no cooking required.
Distribution Day
You should see it on a distribution day. Volunteers in "Equip. Empower. Restore." t-shirts line up behind folding tables, assembling taco meals tray by tray, while pallets of donated produce and potatoes wait out back — sometimes more than can be used before it turns, but never, ever turned away.
The ministry has moved often, out of necessity. Most recently it scattered across multiple sites plus a Thursday sidewalk store, after the chapel hosting them closed in 2025.
It isn't the single tidy building Darla once pictured. It's something more spread out — and, as it turns out, a whole lot harder to stop.
The Numbers Tell the Story
Ready for this?
Roughly 3,000 people served in 2023. 7,100 in 2024. 10,000 in 2025 — all of it sustained now through private giving alone.
Darla stays refreshingly clear-eyed about her role. "I don't feel like I have to solve all the problems," she says. Mercy to Others exists to meet the immediate need and point people toward the rest.
And here's the part we love: many of the volunteers started out as clients. One board member first called during COVID as a 211 operator, found sobriety along the way, and now serves as the ministry's community liaison.
Good Things Are Coming
From three volunteers in 2015 to thirty-three active today, Darla figures God is decentralizing Mercy to Others Ministry — spreading it out in preparation for multiplication.
Or, as their own materials put it: good things are coming.
We believe it.