It is not ornamental, the cost is not so great,
There are other things far more useful, yet truly here I do state:
Though of all my possessions, there's none, which can compare,
With that white leather apron, which all Freemasons wear.

As a young lad I wondered just what it all meant,
When Dad hustled around, and so much time was spent,
On shaving and dressing and looking just right,
Until Mother would say: "There's a Lodge meeting tonight."

And some winter nights she said: "What makes you go
Way up there tonight through the sleet and the snow?
You see the same things every month of the year."
Then Dad would reply: "Yes, I know, my Dear."

"Forty years I have seen the same things, it is true.
And, though they are old, they always seem so new.
For the hands that I clasp, and the friends that I greet,
Seem a little bit closer each and every time we meet."

Years later I stood at that very same door,
With good men and true who had entered before.
I knelt at the altar, and there I was taught
That Virtue and Honor can never be bought.

That the spotless white lambskin that all Freemasons revere,
If worthily worn grows more precious each year.
That Service to others brings blessings untold;
That without it a man may be poor even when surrounded by gold.

I learned that True Brotherhood flourishes there,
That enmities fade beneath the Compass and Square,
That wealth and position are all thrust aside,
As there on the Level Brethren meet and peacefully abide.

So Honor the lambskin, may it always remain
Forever unblemished, and free from all stain.
And when we are called to the Great Father's love,
May we all take our place in the Celestial Lodge up above.
 
 

Author Unknown