Poem by Ruth Stuart
I can still see grandma's apron
she wore most everyday.
At night time it was folded
and, on the foot of her bed it lay. She wore it to protect her dresses,
from all her daily chores.
While washing all the dishes
and scrubbing all the floors. The memory of all her aprons
are with us day to day.
With their many faded spots
Where she dried our tears away. Some are torn and tattered
from many years of wear.
Showing we will always have
her precious love and care. The colors in the rainbow
aren't really from the storm.
They're just our grandma's aprons
through her years, "were proudly worn."
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