<br /> <br /> Some years ago when I worked in a St. John's nursing home we had a patient for whom I felt a strong bond. She was a cheerful outport woman who had spent the best part of her life caring for her family.<br /> However her body had now become frail and weak, and her mind had gone back to the days when she was a young married woman and her children were babies.<br /> Each day she wore her apron. It was long with a bib and made of strong white material. These aprons were worn by many women in Newfoundland at one time. They were home sewn and often made out of flour sacks.<br /> The day came when she could no longer get out of bed and the apron was taken off, forever.<br /> As she left this world and her work worn hands were still at last, I stood by her bedside and thought of her life, and the lives of some many like her, my own grandmothers among them. Strong, proud, resourceful, hardworking Newfoundland women, caring for their families, helping anybody who needed them and expecting nothing in return.<br /> My glance fell on the old apron, lying on the chair, and I thought of how it had been with her through so many events in her life.<br /> All the housework, cooking countless meals, cleaning with none of the conveniences we have today. Sewing and knitting clothes for her family, patching and mending, making do with very little.<br /> She wore it working in her garden and on the fish flake, and tending her animals about which she often spoke with pride, especially her sheep and the warm wool they provided.<br /> It also witnessed many happy events. The marriages, christening and "times" in her big kitchen.<br /> It was with her through many long hours at night in the isolated place where she lived, in her own house or the house of another woman, perhaps waiting for a new life to come into the world, rejoicing in the happiness of that event.<br /> It was with her as she witnessed others slipping away and comforting those who mourned.<br /> I imagine the old apron being with her when she rocked her children. It was with her during the anxiety that was hers when one of them fell sick and the only medical help available was what she could provide, and it was there as well, when one of them were taken from her.<br /> She wore it on stormy nights, watching the wild sea, and wondering if its fury would claim her men folk somewhere out there on the fishing grounds, and perhaps it was used to wipe away tears when a beloved child had to leave to find work far away from home.<br /> after her death, her family came and as was often the case told us to dispose of her belongings as we saw fit.<br /> I could not let the old apron go. I claimed it for my own.<br /> Nowadays, I wear it doing many of the same things she did, although not as well as she would have done them, I'm sure, but when I take my grandson on my lap and he rests against the old apron, I can feel her loving spirit, blessing us with comfort and peace.<br />   Submitted By: NULL