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Mother wore an ample apron
to cover her clean dress.
She’d tell you that’s what it was for
if you asked her, I would guess.

But that apron had more uses
than I could even count.
It brought in eggs and vegetables
and could hold a large amount.

I’ve seen her use that apron
to wipe her dripping brow
as she labored over the big range
that’s just an antique now.

Her apron could bring giggles
in a game of peek-a-boo
with her newest, sweet grand-baby
as she hid her face from view.

When we kids were hurt or crying
we’d run to find her lap.
She’d wipe the falling tears away
with a bit of apron flap.

That apron dusted tables
and shooed away the flies,
it did just fine as oven mitts
to take out bubbling pies.

But the greatest of the treasures
that old apron could hold,
was the endless love from Mother
abiding in each fold.