Wistful Wednesday ~ Grandma's Sugar Bowl

Just the other day I was out,  and I came upon a beautiful old sugar bowl.

You know the kind, with pink roses and a lid that fits just perfect. The kind that reminds you of your Grandma.

It just about yells out loud, “Grandma!” to me! One of those.

One that Grandma would have just loved.

My Dad loved these old sugar bowls for some reason and most likely it was because they reminded him of Grandma, too.

He brought one to Aunt Hilda from time to time, just a gift, an offering of love. Most likely to all his sisters. They were old, not always completely without nicks and mostly they would not match anything else, of course. But they had one thing in common, inside, tucked just out of sight was a handful of love.

 A sprinkle of  'brother sugar'. Dad’s own kind of ‘Sugar‘. Hilda mentioned to me how much she missed the sugar bowls just the other day and it got me to thinking.

I cannot see a sugar bowl and not smile. It is just physically impossible for me. That smile comes, taking me back to another time and place and I find myself on my knees up in the chair at the table with Grandma. Grandma right by my side, the lace tablecloth softly skimming over the tops of my knees like a gentle breeze and the kitchen smelling like Grandma’s house. That smell of material and lace, mixed with simmering chicken dumplings, with a cinnamon bun baking in a warm oven,  takes me there in my heart in an instant. That sugar bowl, always full, sitting on the table. The smell of faint roses and lavender softly coming from Grandma’ hair. Close your eyes and smell it, too.

Grandma liked a little coffee with her sugar and cream. So do I. Big smile.

I remember being up on my knees in that chair and rolling out “whomper” biscuits to make apple turnover pies. They are called that because you 'whomp' them on the edge of the counter to open them up. I can remember stretching my way too short arm across the table, trying to reach the sugar bowl to sprinkle some of Grandma's sugar on top of my pie. Delicious apple pies and sticky sugared fingers.
Life was grand in Grandma's kitchen.

Delicious memories, precious to me.

One thing I will be eternally grateful for, is that Grandma taught me how to love deeply and how keep your sugar bowl full.

She taught us all that love should be unconditional, without judgment. She loved us even sometimes when we didn’t appear to deserve it. Grandma knew how to feel your heart, to meet you where you are and give you the love that you needed. The word compassion comes up time and time again when thinking about my Grandma.  Her heart was pure compassion.

Grandma could feel our wounds no matter how big or how small and she was just about bound and determined to heal them any way she could, even when it didn’t always appear to be practical or logical. Sometimes Noxema did the trick just fine, and sometimes not. Noxema was a salve for you soul as well as your boo-boo's,  sometimes. And if she found a wound she couldn’t heal completely, she made sure to stick by you and love you through it.

Love, kindness and compassion, were all something that came naturally to Maudie Hull Arrowood.

My Dad knew that sugar bowl well, and so did Hilda. All the kids and grandkids knew Grandma’s sweet sugar bowl well. She kept her heart, her ‘sugar bowl’ full all the time.

Not just for family, but for everyone. God Bless her.

Dad’s love for those odd sugar bowls imprinted in my mind and my heart, so now I scan the shelves of old jot-em-down stores and fleas for sugar bowls, too.  You just never know what treasure awaits you just around the corner in this life. My Dad had that same giving heart that my dear Grandma had.

The apples never fall far too from the tree, do they? Or is it the nuts? Oh well, whatever we are, we are who we are. Grin.

I sure miss my ‘sugar bowl of love’ that I got from my Dad, but I know that somewhere, up in heaven, all of our loved ones that have gone on, are sitting around that sugar bowl and having coffee and some sweet Grandma apple pies. Laughing and telling stories and loving each and every one of us, still. Can’t you just imagine how wonderful that must be? Aunt Ollie and Aunt Buna are sitting there as well, smiling those beautiful smiles they had.

All of Grandma’s kids keep their sugar bowls full, and recently I have received a good dose of love from both Ann and Hilda. They know what I am talking about here, God Bless them both.

As we go about living today, with holes in all of our hearts because we miss all the loved ones that are no longer with us, let us all try to fill those holes with the kind of love that they showed us while here. Let that be our tribute to the love we have all received. Let us be the full sugar bowls and give our sugar to hearts that need it. Let’s pay it forward.

I can’t wait to get up to heaven and sit down at that table, and say, “Pass me that sugar bowl!“

Until then, hold tight to all your sugar bowls. Let them know how much you appreciate them.

*****



Thoughtful Thursday~

This old photo was found by my Dad a few years back.  In the shot is my great Aunt Ollie Hull Smith.  Behind her is maybe my great grandmother, Virgie Dellinger Hull. She was tiny and small framed. Maybe that is my Uncle Ben with his hand on the tree. I love the old forty-something car in the background.

 It's hard to tell..Sometimes I wish I could ask those in the old pictures, "Now, just who is that??" 

Sadly people do not always write names on the back of photos..I guess we take the pictures and we know who they are, so not another thought that someone may look at it years from now and wonder...

I wish  I had my grandmother Maude back so much. She remembered everything and everyone. I miss her so.


 If anyone ever had a wonderful grandma, I sure did.

Aunt Ollie, By Hilda Arrowood Olive

Hilda is the eldest of the children of Lewis William Arrowood and Maude Rose Hull Arrowood. She is almost eighty years old and writing beautiful poems, still. God Bless you Aunt Hilda.





We had a special Aunt down here, but she's an angel now,
Everyone is happy she's home and we will get along, somehow.
What a time she's having with her sisters and her Lord.
She enjoyed living and never seemed bored.
I'll never forget her saying, "Stop and smell the coffee", to me,
she knew we needed to slow down to look for all the beauty to see.
Her two sons are special and she loved them so,
And her grandchildren would have been the reason,
for her not wanting to go.
She planned a birthday party for me, such plans she did make,
While running up the stairs, she fell and her elbow went through the cake.

She had many nieces, but I was first to come along,
she loved me dearly and according to her, I could do no wrong.
Most of her life, she lived with Grandpa and Grandma Hull,
when we all went to visit, it was anything but dull.
We were so blessed to be part of a family like that,
she was so pretty dressed up and sometimes, she wore a hat.
The movie stars of her day, they could not compare,
everyone who saw her, could not help but stare.
She was the baby of the family, but to me she was a queen.
Her sweet smile, black hair, and the prettiest face I have ever seen.
She would say to us, get ready, to come live on that beautiful shore.
When our time comes to cross over, she will be waiting inside the door.

Three Cedar Trees ~ Ollie Hull Smith

Behind my grandparent’s home were three cedar trees, growing in a row.

I watched them grow over the years, always remembering what my grandmother told me about those trees.

Maude told me that the trees were her and her sisters. They had slowly become to symbolize her relationships with her sisters, I think. It was her way of keeping her sisters close to her side.

Each standing tall, side by side, weathering the storms of life.




The first one on the end, was tall and slim, towering above the other two. Proper and standing tall.

This tree was Ollie.

The next one was smaller, petite in stature. Perfect, but small.

That one was Buna.

The last one was rounder, more “fat” that the other two trees.

Grandma told me that this tree, was her. She would smile and chuckle a bit over the 'fat' part.

Maude Rose Hull Arrowood, my precious grandmother.

Those trees stood side by side for a number of years, watching the seasons come and go.

Winter’s harsh winds would blow, followed by the sweetness of spring. The seasons came and went, and so the years passed by. Those trees stood, sturdy, resilient, and side by side.

As the years passed, I would always check the trees, just to see how they were doing.
My grandmother was a "one of a kind" and I pray that she left just a tad of herself in me.

My grandmother passed in March of 1982.

Another sister has been laid to rest today. We mourn her loss.

She was another "one of a kind" lady.

Great Aunt Ollie has gone on to her rewards and resides now, among the angels in heaven.

She remained always, prim and proper as a lady should be, always such in the eyes of my grandmother. She adored her sisters.




She leaves behind a family that loves her dearly and will surely miss her.

The end of an era comes with the passing of our grandparents.

The world simply moves on.


Ollie married a young fellow named William Miller Smith on January 1, 1934.

William Miller Smith’s father was Edgar Birch Smith, born 1888, and his mother was Mary Pearl Suggs, born in 1887. They were all born in Rutherford County, North Carolina.

The 1930 census shows the Smith family living in Gastonia.

Edgar is 43 years old, Mary Pearl is 42, brother Walton is 18, and Miller is shown as age 16.

Edgar was a Barber by trade.

William Miller and Ollie Hull had two sons, Doug and Dave.

William Miller was injured in a automobile accident on September the 17th, 1937. He lingered for two days and sadly, finally succumbed to cerebral bleeding on Sept. 19, 1937.

He is buried with the other family members in Hollywood Cemetery, Gastonia.

Ollie was left alone to raise her two boys. She did a mighty fine job.

She was a sturdy woman with a strong will, no doubt, to raise those kids in the 1930’s, alone.
She was quick with a broad smile and enjoyed life to the fullest.

She lived a long, happy life and now she is in heaven greeting all those that went before her.

I am sad at her passing, but I am reminded of those cedar trees and now two of them are standing side by side once again. That makes me smile.

We will all meet up again, one day, and stand there in the shade of those sweet smelling cedars in heaven.


Rest in peace, Dear Aunt Ollie. We will miss you.