About Once Upon a Word: We're a large group of multi-talented authors working together, to bring you the best romances.

Sunday, April 5, 2015


During holidays I think of my grandfather and grandmother the most. When I was a child, I always went to their house whenever school was out. Easter weekend was no exception and I would help my grandmother (or more likely get in her way) on Saturday as she prepared a huge meal to be served on Sunday afternoon to their nine children, the eight spouses, nineteen grands (including me), and a few friends. 

My grampa would always coax me from underfoot with the need to drive to the store (where they sold cherry snow-cones) to pick up some mysterious forgotten item. I realized later he would see gramma getting frazzled at my unlimited questions and small clumsy hands causing extra work and he would rescue his "Maggie".

I don't know how many times he told me this legend (one of his favorites) as we puttered down the road in his old pickup, and I never tired of it. I hope you will enjoy it also and think of someone who once shared their love, time, and a special legend with you.

The Legend of the Dogwood Tree 
by Unknown Author

Many years ago, a dogwood tree grew on a hill outside Jerusalem. In those days, the dogwood tree was as tall and mighty as an oak, and this tree was the tallest of all the dogwoods, and extremely proud of its strength. 

"Something wonderful is going to happen to me," it said to anyone who would listen. "I'll probably become the mast that holds the big sail on a grand ship, or the main timber supporting a great house."

Unfortunately, the huge old dogwood was cut down to become the cross to which Jesus was nailed. The tree was horrified. All its dreams of glory were smashed, and it groaned in agony as two boards from its trunk were nailed together.

Jesus took pity on the tree, even as he carried it to Calvary. "You will never be put to such use again," He told it. "From this day on, your shape will change, even as will the world. You will become slender and sway easily with the breeze. And instead of acorns, you will bear flowers in the shape of a cross... with two long and two short petals. In the center of the outer edge of each petal, there will be nail prints... brown with rust and red with bloodstains to show the world how you have suffered.

"Last of all, the center of your flowers will be marked as though with a crown of thorns to remind people forevermore, that you and I spent our last moments together." 

And so it was. And so it is.  


  1. Sweet Easter memories, Becca. I talked to my cousin on FB this morning and we were remembering all the egg hunts at our grandmother's house back in the "good ol' days". LOL

    I hope you and yours have a very HAPPY EASTER!

  2. Easter Sunday for me will always be when as children we wore the new "church going" outfits mom would buy us. I'd have some little suit with a bowtie and sister Sue would have some frilly dress with black shiny shoes.

    And I will always remember how, one Easter Sunday, on the way to church, I was riding in the back seat and Sue was in the front, and I started getting carsick (a common problem with me). I leaned over the seat back to tell Mom to stop the car just in time to throw up on Sue in her new dress.

    She never let me forget that.

    Happy Easter, everyone!


Comments relevant to the blog post are welcome as long as they are noninflammatory and appropriate for everyone of all ages to read.
Thank you for your interest and input.