WELCOME


~ 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.

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"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."

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Arrowood Family

Wednesday, September 16, 2009

Walk Softly, As You Pass By.....

















Kind Angels watch her sleeping dust
Till Jesus comes to raise the just.
Then may she wake with sweet surprise,
And in her Savior’s image arise.

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Somewhere he watches over us yet
With spirit faithful fond and tender
Somewhere the star that here hath set
Rises again in morning splendor.
Fare thee well, my own beloved
I know that thou art blessed
Thou hast but fled to realms of bliss
A mansion to prepare
Where I shall join thee dearest one
Thy endless joys to share.

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"Death little warning to me gave
But quickly called me to the grave
Repent, believe, make no delay
For no one knows their dying day"

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There's a beautiful region above the skies
and I long to reach its shore
For I know I shall find my treasure there,
the loved one gone before."

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"Life is the road to death,
And death Heaven's gate most be,
Heaven is the throne of Christ,
And Christ is life to me."

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The rising morn cannot insure,
That we shall end the day,
For death stands ready at the door,
To snatch our lives away

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These are some of the writings on gravestones that I have encountered during my searching.



We think of cemeteries as places of death, as a representation of the line between the living and the dead. But they are far more than just a resting place for the dead. Cemeteries are not merely the home of old bones and marble markers.
They are a link to our past, a memorial to those who have gone before, to those who shaped towns, cities, and states and made them into the places which we love.
Memorials to the person’s life, not their death.

Ashes to ashes and dust to dust. Somehow I’m just sure that I will somehow find a hidden secret in these reminders of our past. Carvings and epitaphs tell me a bit about a person that might otherwise not be remembered. These people existed, they were once vibrant and alive with people that cared for them, children they doted upon, and they lived through ordinary every day struggles, just as we do, feeling sorrow and happiness during their lifetimes.

Now, they are but a name on a headstone, if the monument has survived. But, at least for a moment, they are thought of, if unknown, in the minds of the many just like me. People that are inexplicably drawn to these outdoor museums.

If you stop and take a moment to walk around a cemetery you will find that looking at the old gravestones is like taking a walk through history.

You will often find family plots that span several generations. You can get a glimpse of their lives by reading the gravestones. If a young mother died at the same time as her infant child she most likely died during child birth. If several members died within a few days or weeks of each other then disease most likely caused their deaths. If a few people died on the same day then maybe an accident or fire took their lives.
So watch for me..I am out there. Ready to stop on a dime, and turn around and head back to where I saw that old burying ground. I just can't help myself.
Luckily for me, I am a Southern gal, and such wonderful places abound here.

The stories of their lives are out there, just waiting for you to come and “read” them.






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Walk softly, as you pass by....As you are now,
So once was I....As I am now, so you must be,
Prepare for death and follow me.

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