The other day I came across some stories of aprons.( I have no clue how I ended up there) It got me remembering about my Grandma. She was one of the hardest working people I have ever known. I don't remember her smiling much but you could sure feel her love. Some of the other things I remember fondly are sharing a bowl of fresh peaches ( with salt of course) or having a bowl of raisin bran ( still my favorite) in the evening while we watched Gunsmoke with Grandpa. But of all my memories I can't ever remember her without an apron. So I got out the sewing machine and made my own apron , it just makes being in the kitchen feel more special. I found this poem by Tina Trivett who wrote it for her Grandma and it seems to describe mine as well.
Grandma's Apron
by Tina Trivett
The strings were tied, It was freshly washed, and maybe even pressed.
For Grandma, it was everyday to choose one when she dressed.
The simple apron that it was, you would never think about;
the things she used it for, that made it look worn out.
She may have used it to hold, some wildflowers that she'd found.
Or to hide a crying child's face, when a stranger came around.
Imagine all the little tears that were wiped with just that cloth.
Or it became a potholder to serve some chicken broth.
She probably carried kindling to stoke the kitchen fire.
To hold a load of laundry, or to wipe the clothesline wire.
When canning all her vegetables, it was used to wipe her brow.
You never know, she might have used it to shoo flies from the cow.
She might have carried eggs in from the chicken coop outside.
Whatever chore she used it for, she did them all with pride.
When Grandma went to heaven, God said she now could rest.
I'm sure the apron that she chose, was her Sunday best.
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