Yesterday was the funeral of a prominent elder in the town of Davis. We expected a goodly crowd at meal afterward. Of the women that were there to put out the food and watch the tables, I was the only one to don an apron. As out of town folks left, many came to me to thank us for the delicious and abundant food and for tending to the family. I hadn't cooked a thing, but realized the apron signaled an authority. Evidently it was enough of a uniform to give me temporary power. I graciously accepted the thanks, told folks it was a honor to serve them, and would pass their thanks on. The power of the apron.
