My elders told the tale that the cross upon which Jesus was crucified was made of dogwood. Back then, it was said, they grew big and sturdy, but shame stunted them. Since that time they have never again grown large enough to use for that purpose. The dogwood's blossom still bears the scars of the nails that pierced the savior's feet and hands.

I've never seen a dogwood that looked like this, but I have no doubt that somewhere deep in the wilds of Wilkes County there grows an old dogwood much like it clinging to life and a steep hill side, still producing those unique spring blossoms.

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