• Creative Non-fiction,  Essays,  Food,  Uncategorized

    Way Down Yonder in the Pawpaw Patch

    Each day of our lives we make deposits in the memory banks of our children.

    – Charles R. Swindoll

    I suppose my first grade teacher deposited this one.

     

    My son recently sent me a note with a couple of photos he took of Pawpaws he picked “in the wild” from an island in the Potomac River near Washington, DC.

    When I looked at his pictures, a flood of memories from the public elementary school I attended hit me. And this song we sang magically reappeared:

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