- Special Sections
- Public Notices
The other day I called on an Amish store that I do business with. I noticed the women were all wearing aprons. The pockets were all filled with various essentials. It echoed through the canyons of my mind like a disappearing dream of yesterday.
I recalled how my mother's apron was an essential part of her life. It served many a purpose when I was a child growing up. It tossed the beans to free the chaff. Shooed the chickens from the yard. Wiped away a small child's tears. Wrapped chilled arms with warm regard. It held clothespins for the Monday wash. It was used for gathering eggs, picking beans or moving tiny, fuzzy chicks.
The gingham apron got her out of many a fix. It seldom hung upon its hook behind the tattered kitchen door. It was a mainstay of her life. She reached for it each early morn. Covered well within its folds, another workday had begun. Mixing bread, washing clothes. It served her well from sun to sun. When it frayed, it went to rest in the prettiest quilt blocks.
There's another story to enfold. Another sweet memory to share. She often told me during my growing up years that I asked too many questions and remembered too well. Maybe I did. Still, I think back and recall bits and pieces of my childhood. I wish I had been even more inquisitive. At the same time, I am thankful for the traits I do possess. They have helped me salvage memories of my early life, reclaim some family history and give life to the framed faces of ancestors who look down at me from the bookshelf of my home.
She made her aprons from flour or feed sacks or from fabric left over from other projects. My wife and daughter seldom use aprons, and that's a shame. There is something romantic and womanly about an apron. It represents pride in appearance. Comfort in drying tears and wiping noses. Is it sanitary? No way, I suppose, but I've survived and so has my family with no adverse effects from the multitasking apron.
I hope you have memories of your mother's or grandmother's apron. They will give you hours and hours of happy pictures in your mind of the years and years of love and childhood and the wonderful woman who loved you, comforted you, protected you and provided for you during the happiest years of your life.