My grandmother’s apron
I don’t think I ever saw my grandmother without an apron around her waist. As a young child, I thought the apron was just part of her dress.
She kept her every-day aprons washed, but they showed the stains from her daily activities: gathering beans from the garden, returning baby chicks when they wandered off from the mother hen, wiping tears from faces of her grandchildren. One day, I watched as she grabbed the hem of her apron to dust the coffee table before a neighbor came to visit for a chat and a cup of coffee.
I would volunteer to help wash dishes just to have one of her aprons tied around my waist. I wore it for hours, following my grandmother around in her garden. As she would gather the green beans and place them in her apron, I would do the same. I realized there was a lot of work you could do wearing an apron.
On Sundays she would put on a white apron without any stains. It was always heavy starched and perfectly ironed. I will always remember the special Sunday apron she wore as she would place the fried chicken bowl on the dinner table. Some memories never leave your heart and mind.
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