~ The pieces are all sewn together, stitched with love.........and a quilt tells a story and the story is our past ~

The Arrowood family immigrated from England to Maryland in the 1700's. They went south, eventually settling in the mountains of North Carolina. Later , some went further south, into the Piedmont of North Carolina, in search of work and a better way of life.

I am in search of my family.

I search for those that came before me, and lived their lives as best they could. I am in search of their stories, how they lived, and how they loved.

I shared this love of seeking the past with my Dad, sharing each new finding with him, the thrill in his heart intermingling with mine. I continue this search in his honor, and hope to know these people of ours when I join up with them all in heaven.

~ Steve Lewis Arrowood 1932-2008 ~

Come with me, back to a simpler time and place. A place far removed from the hectic pace of today. To a time when life was hard, but the rewards were great. When your quality of life was determined by your own sweat, your own toil, and your own ingenuity.

Would you like a glass of sweet tea? Let's sit out on the porch where we will catch the sweetly scented breeze of summertime. Maybe Grandma will fry up some of her wonderful chicken... Time slows here.


"We shape our lives not by what we carry with us, but what we leave behind."

~You live as long as you are remembered.~

"Our most treasured family heirlooms are our sweet family memories. " Author: Unknown

"But those who came before us will teach you. They will teach you from the wisdom of former generations."


Arrowood Family

Thursday, August 13, 2009

May Pops

When I think of my Dad, I smell May Pops.

May Pops and summer and sweetly fresh, mown hay,
Grape soda and popsicles outside, on a warm day.

When I think of my Dad, I smell May Pops.

I see him reaching down and taking my fast melting popsicle
To save the front of my shirt, and to save me from the wrath of my mother.
I see him taking my small hand in a crowd, reaching down, to save me from being lost.

When I think of my Dad, I smell May Pops.

I see him handing my grandfather a hot cup of coffee, a smile on his face.
I see him reaching out to place a comforting hand on the forehead of my grandmother.
I see tears coursing down his face, as he tells me that she is gone now.

When I think of my Dad, I smell May Pops.

I see the smile on his face as he triumphantly climbs to the top of the mayan pyramid.
I see the look of awe on his face when he first sees the unbelievable blue of the Caribbean waters.
I see the look of pain on his face, and his haunted eyes, over the death of his brother.

When I think of my Dad, I smell May Pops and I smile through my tears.

My Dad was always there for me through out my growing years.
My own personal angel to watch over me and always guide my way.
My Dad, my Angel, with a fist full of May Pops on a warm summer’s day.

My Dad loved Maypop's (or passion flowers as they are called, but here in the South..they are just plain Maypop's). The plant makes a seed pod that is fleshy and just "may pop" when you step on it. He told me the story of the flower as a child. It symbolizes the "passion" or crucifixion of Christ.

The ten large petals represent Christ's ten most faithful apostles. The fringe above the petals represent the crown of thorns placed on Christ's head. The five anthers are for the five wounds in Christ's body and the three stigmas are for the nails that were placed in his hands and feet when nailed to the cross. The five anthers are also symbolic for the five loaves of bread that Christ used to feed the masses.

When we look at this flower, we not only see a very beautiful and interesting flower, but we also are reminded of the suffering that Christ endured to save us all.

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