Aprons have become trendy...fashionable...stylish. It's easy to find them for sale in any color, fabric, or style our hearts desire. And because our "girls" are such fun, I'm almost done stitching together an apron in a cheery red & yellow chicken print. I admit I'm a part of the crowd...I find aprons absolutely wonderful and I admit to owning several.
I think the comeback of this old-fashioned necessity is a good thing. However; long before they were all the rage, aprons came from humble beginnings.
A friend forwarded this poem and photo to me, and I was reminded of how it touched my heart as I tied on my own apron this morning. I thought you'd enjoy reading it as well.
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.
-Tina Trivett