This little apron and verse was passed from one woman to the next. Despite the times being difficult, when it was her turn to measure her waistline inch by inch, she filled the pocket and made do with less that week, in order to contribute to keeping the neighborhood parish open and the priest in place. This, at a time when a loaf of bread was nine cents.
It’s a funny thing with me that I consider good enough an agreeable standard when applied to everything in my life, except writing. With writing, I work very hard to make it worth anyone’s while to read. And so it is with blogging. I visit many blogs and marvel at the consistency with which some post entertaining or contemplative narrative. The flip side is this New Yorker cartoon
Good enough…a nice new mind-set that lasted as long as it took to write that sentence, for I simply and positively cannot just slap some blog into place. I need to research and assemble and take photos and fine tune those and then write with a purpose. Blogging more often, however, is a goal to which I’ll strive!
This blog shares something so unique, I’m not sure I’ll ever come upon it again. Three years ago, I received a handkerchief box and inside, wrapped in tissue was a little pink apron and a poem:
Folded in the apron’s pocket was this poem. Typed on onionskin, the verse provided instruction to the receiver on how she was to fill the apron’s pocket with pennies.
When Sister Paula sent the apron, I was into the sixth year of my apron journey, and never had I seen anything like this little apron and its poem. It is an artifact of our history as women, and of such import, I framed it in a manner that left it portable, so I could share it as I continued to travel throughout America.
In the three years hence, the little fundraiser apron has been viewed by multiple hundreds, and no one has ever responded to it with recognition. Which led to me believe it was unique, and the brainstorm of a group of immigrant women back in 1929.
Then a few months ago, I was browsing through an antique mall, and in a seller’s booth, my eyes lit on a plastic bag that held a little carpenter-like apron…with a folded piece of paper in its pocket.
And when carefully unfolded, the note revealed the identical poem to the one in the pocket of the pink fundraiser apron!!!!! So a bit of the mystery is solved – Sister Paula’s firsthand knowledge of the little pink apron and poem dates the little blue apron to 1929, too. And from her letter, we know both aprons were a fundraising activity among women. But from where did this idea germinate? Ah, the fun of discovery, the joy of sharing and the delight of never knowing what apron, or story, is still to be experienced.
I hope you’ve enjoyed this blog entry as much as I enjoyed putting it together. I’ve meant to tell y’all about the little fundraising apron, and so I finally have.
In appreciation of your reading this blog, Andrews McMeel, my wonderful publisher, has provided a copy of the newly released Cake Wrecks for me to giveaway. To enter, just leave a
Tie One On…an apron, of course!