My apron tells a love story

Vilda Maertens-Poole – Submitted

My mother and grandmother wore aprons over their house dresses as they cooked and cleaned their homes.
On Sunday and special occasions, a more frilly apron was donned to prepare and serve the special meal of the day.
Aside from the everyday debris the apron collected it had a sensitive side. It wiped away tears from eyes after a skinned knee or an unexpected tumble. It also served as a quick hand towel when called away from baking or cooking to attend to a baby’s cry or answer a knock on the door.
My grandmother used her apron as a basket of sorts to bring vegetables from the root cellar or eggs from the chicken coop. It often carried tiny chicks from their free range hatching nest to the warmth of a box behind the old cook stove in the kitchen.
In my grandmother’s day, aprons were made from sturdy cotton sugar and flour sacks.
The sacks were made to carry heavy loads and, when emptied, they were cut and sewn into aprons to carry out their undying duty in the household. Aprons were part of the uniform of the day. I now live in a different world of high technology with dishwashers, high speed mixers and instant food and mixes. I am a “from scratch” cook, following recipes and using raw ingredients such as flour, sugar and butter to cook foods. I sill wear an apron wile cooking, cleaning and caring for my home and family.
By the end of a day my apron, as the many that went before me, wears the same ingredients used ny my mother and grandmother. My apron tells the tale of a busy day – the food stuffs, the tears and the stains of the day and all the love that put them there.
I am proud to wear my apron.

Vilda Maertens-Poole
Prince Albert, SK
February 20, 2011