THE TIES THAT BIND

Most of us can get a vivid mental picture of childhood through the sense-memory of the women in our lives; their scent, their laugh, their song or their food offerings. That picture is not complete without the memory of the aprons they wore.
Mom's apron was a ceremonial signal to me that all else was set aside as it was time to prepare a great meal.
Aunt Catherine's bright white work apron had a lovely, familiar whiff of citrus and the sweet, subtle smell of fresh ground meat as she lovingly pressed your face into her after returning from work at Wilson's Market.
Aprons were both functional and decorative and were used for everything from carrying things to wiping your dirty face.

I remember receiving my first, perhaps only, apron. Tailored to my own small waist at 7 years old, I remember it as a first impression of having responsibilty to other people. It was 'personalized' with a favorite lavendar gingham with matching rick-rack trim. It had pockets customized to my god-given gifts with places for six crayon colors and wider pockets for scissors, paper, doll-bottles, garden tools and spoons! The possibilities were endless!

As I recall that apron, I am challenged to examine the expectations God and community have of me. Am I called? Am I equipped? What joy awaits from service and industry in my own corner of the world? A still, small voice whispers that it's time to 'suit up' to the task under my nose and not in an unknown, someday metropolis. The ties that bind us to God and tradition are not to be seen as restrictive, but long, flowing links to comfort and, perhaps, to the future.