Princess Lilibet and Prince Archie made a surprise outing with Meghan Markle and Prince Harry ahead of Thanksgiving, turning a crisp November morning into a lesson in compassion that has captured hearts worldwide. On November 26, 2025, the Duke and Duchess of Sussex brought their children—energetic six-year-old Archie and spirited four-year-old Lilibet—to Our Big Kitchen Los Angeles (OBKLA), a bustling nonprofit hub in the heart of Hollywood. There, amid the aroma of fresh-baked cookies and simmering rice, the family rolled up their sleeves for a day of volunteering, assembling meals for food-insecure Angelenos. It was a rare, unscripted glimpse into the Sussexes’ private world, where royal roots meet everyday empathy. As Meghan later shared on Instagram, “Teaching our little ones to show up and do good—because kindness is the real feast.” With Thanksgiving looming the next day, this outing wasn’t just service; it was a family’s quiet vow to nurture gratitude in a season of abundance and reflection.

The event unfolded under the golden haze of a Southern California sun, at OBKLA’s sun-drenched kitchen on Santa Monica Boulevard—a vibrant space where volunteers transform donated produce into nourishing trays for those in need. Meghan, 44, arrived in a casual ensemble of wide-leg jeans, a cozy cream sweater, and her signature tousled waves, exuding the effortless warmth of a mom on a mission. Harry, 41, complemented her in a simple gray hoodie and jeans, his trademark scruff softened by a beaming smile as he hoisted trays of bell peppers and ground turkey. But the stars of the morning were undoubtedly Archie and Lilibet, whose wide-eyed wonder added an extra layer of magic to the mix. Archie, with his tousled auburn curls and infectious giggle, dove into cookie-making duty, his tiny hands dusted with flour as he shaped gingerbread stars alongside other children. “Look, Mama! This one’s for the bees!” he exclaimed, referencing the family’s beloved apiary back home in Montecito. Lilibet, her strawberry-blonde pigtails bouncing, clutched Meghan’s hand while peering into a mixing bowl, her red-and-blue plaid dress a pop of holiday cheer against the stainless-steel counters.

Photographs from the day, shared via the Archewell Foundation’s website and Meghan’s Stories, paint a portrait of pure, unfiltered joy. One candid shot captures Harry scooping vibrant peppers over heaps of seasoned rice, Lilibet tugging at his sleeve with a question only a four-year-old could pose—prompting a burst of laughter that echoed through the kitchen. Another shows Meghan and Archie at a long wooden table, the duo piping icing onto cookies destined for distribution, their faces smeared with vanilla sweetness. “These are for friends who need a smile,” Meghan whispered to her son, a moment that underscored the couple’s deliberate parenting philosophy: Instilling values not through lectures, but through lived action. The children, shielded from the public eye since their toddler years, appeared utterly at ease—Archie high-fiving a fellow volunteer, Lilibet stacking boxes with toddler determination. OBKLA founder Beth Siegel, who greeted the family at the door, later gushed, “They brought light to our space. The kids were naturals—reminders that giving starts small.”

This outing marks a poignant evolution for the Sussexes, who have long prioritized privacy for their children amid the relentless glare of global scrutiny. Since stepping back from senior royal duties in 2020, Meghan and Harry have crafted a life in Montecito that’s equal parts seclusion and purpose—a sprawling seven-bedroom estate dubbed their “forever home,” complete with olive groves, a playhouse fortress, and those famous beehives buzzing in the garden. Yet, glimpses like this one reveal a family deeply rooted in service, echoing Harry’s military ethos and Meghan’s Hollywood humanitarianism. Archewell, their nonprofit powerhouse launched in 2020, has funneled millions into causes from vaccine equity to digital safety, but this was personal: A pre-Thanksgiving ritual to “fill hearts before plates,” as Meghan phrased it in a recent newsletter. The timing was no coincidence; with the holiday falling on November 27, the family aimed to blend tradition with teaching, showing Archie and Lilibet that gratitude isn’t passive—it’s prepared with love, one meal at a time.

As the morning progressed, the Sussexes immersed themselves in the kitchen’s rhythm. Volunteers, a diverse tapestry of locals from all walks—chefs from nearby studios, retirees with stories etched in laugh lines, and young parents mirroring the Sussexes’ own juggle—welcomed them without fanfare. Harry, drawing from his Invictus Games grit, manned the assembly line, portioning rice and proteins into eco-friendly boxes stamped with Archewell’s lotus emblem—a symbol of resilience they chose for its nod to growth amid adversity. Meghan, ever the connector, chatted with OBKLA staff about expanding their school programs, her actress poise giving way to genuine curiosity. “How do you keep the kids engaged during busy seasons?” she asked, nodding as one volunteer shared tips on kid-friendly recipes. Archie, meanwhile, led an impromptu “taste test” with sliced carrots, declaring them “superhero fuel,” while Lilibet discovered the delight of crumbling cornbread, her giggles drawing smiles from the entire room.

The event wrapped with a group photo: The family of four, aprons askew and hands clasped, surrounded by stacks of 200 meal kits ready for delivery to shelters across Los Angeles. As they piled into their black Range Rover—Archie waving from the back seat, Lilibet clutching a cookie like a trophy—the air hummed with quiet accomplishment. Back home in Montecito, the preparations for Thanksgiving ramped up. Meghan’s Instagram Stories offered teasing peeks: A raw turkey brining in a copper pan, seasoned with sage harvested from their garden (with the kids’ “help,” of course), and a note from Archie and Lilibet scrawled on a mug for Santa’s reindeer—early holiday magic bleeding into the feast. “Navigating the timing on the turkey,” Meghan joked in a caption, a lighthearted nod to the domestic dance she and Harry perfect each year. Doria Ragland, Meghan’s mother and the children’s doting “Ouma,” is a fixture at their table, her yoga instructor calm balancing Harry’s boisterous energy. This year, they’re hosting a handful of “dear friends” without family plans—perhaps a nod to past guests like Gloria Steinem in 2023—keeping the vibe intimate amid the coastal fog.

Social media lit up like a harvest moon in response. #SussexThanksgiving trended on X, with fans flooding timelines with heart emojis and personal stories. “Archie and Lili are the future—kind, curious, cared for,” one user posted, sharing a side-by-side of the cookie-making snap and their own family’s volunteer pics. Others praised the couple’s approach: “No stiff photo ops, just real parenting in action. Take notes, palaces.” Even skeptics softened, with one royal watcher admitting, “This is the monarchy we need—grounded, giving.” The images, raw and relatable, contrasted sharply with the Windsors’ more formal November engagements—King Charles at the Diplomatic Reception, William strolling Welsh shores—highlighting the Sussexes’ American reinvention: Philanthropy as family adventure, not obligation.

For Meghan and Harry, this outing weaves into a tapestry of intentional moments. Earlier this year, in March, Harry and Lilibet shared a tender boat ride during a family getaway, her tiny hand in his as waves lapped the hull. April brought garden romps in Montecito, Archie knee-deep in rose beds, Lilibet chasing butterflies with Meghan’s friend. And in September, behind-the-scenes shots from Meghan’s Netflix series “With Love, Meghan” Season 2 offered rare peeks: The kids on set, munching props and mugging for the camera. These aren’t accidents; they’re curated reveals, balancing protection with presence. “You find different ways to protect yourself,” Meghan reflected in a recent interview, alluding to royal life’s scars while celebrating this freer chapter. Harry, too, has opened up about fatherhood’s joys—coaching Archie’s soccer drills, reading bedtime tales to Lilibet—therapies for the boy who once navigated Kensington’s cold corridors.

As Thanksgiving dawns on November 27, the Sussex household buzzes with anticipation. Picture it: A long oak table groaning under turkey (Meghan’s classic, herb-crusted), cranberry relish from Doria’s recipe, and pumpkin pie baked with the kids’ “artistic” handprints. The dogs—Pula and Guy—snooze by the fire, while Harry strums his guitar for post-dinner carols. It’s a far cry from Sandringham’s grandeur, but that’s the point: Gratitude here is homemade, heartfelt, horizon-bound. In a world quick to judge, this surprise outing reminds us—the Sussexes aren’t fading stars; they’re family forging ahead, one cookie, one kindness at a time. As Meghan signed off her post, “Grateful for these hands, these hearts, this home.” And in that simple truth, the real feast begins.