A Mary Moment Monday post
There’s been a lot of talk about pants lately. Is it better to wear pants or skirts? Do you think there’s a chance of getting a tomboy to like skirts?
I’m with Simcha; I’m pretty sure Mary would wear (and does wear?) pants. The post Simcha wrote detailing her reasons why Mary would wear pants, by the way, is one of the most down-to-earth pictures of Mary I have read, and one that I all but printed out to remind me of how I want to embrace the Blessed Mother — as a REAL PERSON, as a woman-in-the-flesh, as an approachable, huggable, lovable individual.
All this talk of pants has had me exploring a rabbit trail, one that seems linked to the pants vs. skirts issue: the question of aprons. I talked about it briefly on this week’s Catholic Foodie show, but I’ve been thinking of it for a while. It started back when I got to thinking about the links that exist in my mind between aprons and farm life.
Back when I was working on my degree in agricultural education, with the goal of being a high school teacher, you couldn’t have convinced me to wear an apron. No way. Not only did I not like to cook, but I didn’t like anything an apron symbolized.
To me, an apron was something oppressed women wore, something small-minded, unenlightened, uneducated women needed. A woman with a career didn’t need an apron. In fact, I never even thought of aprons. They just never came to mind.
I started appreciating what I think of as “the apron way of life” a few years ago. I think living in the country, combined with a lot of growing up and getting to know people who shattered my previous assumptions, helped this process quite a bit.
Oh, and I like to eat. At some point, I realized that having an apron was an immensely practical thing, especially for someone who’s level of comfort in the kitchen competed with her lack of coordination, resulting in messes on clothing.
I started thinking of Mary in an apron and the lessons that can teach me, and then aprons became my favorite kitchen accessory. (Let’s not start comparing them with shoes or purses, though arguably, they fit right in with a love of fashion accessories, don’t you think?)
Today, on a day when I’m (unintentionally) blogging at the end of the day instead of the beginning, on a day when things have gone very differently than I expected and where I’m left with an odd sense of peace despite that, I can only think of my apron as my tie to God, through my Mama Mary. She lets me hold on and she carries me right on over to Him, lays me down in His lap, strokes my forehead while he rocks me.
(That image, by the way, is my very favorite apron, made by an awesome friend of mine.)