In first grade, my teacher Mrs. Iverson showed us how to make May Day baskets from pink and yellow construction paper. We drew ivy and flowers on the paper baskets with our thick crayons before going up one-by-one to our teacher to get the handle stapled on.
On the way home from school, we walked together picking dandelions and soft lavender-colored clover to fill our baskets.
I climbed the steps to Mrs. Fixie’s front door. She was the grandmotherly lady with the neat white bun on top of her head who often gave me home-made oatmeal cookies.
I hung the basket on her doorknob. Then, I rang her doorbell and ran as far as my first-grade legs would take me. I hid behind a hedge and watched her open the front door and scan the neighborhood.
“Happy May Day!” I yelled jumping up behind the shrubs.
Where did this fun tradition begin? But, more importantly, where did it go?
My mom is in an assisted living home two states away. She’ll be getting a delivery from FTD today of a little basket of flowers. The card will read “Happy May Day! Love, ?”
She’ll call and thank me and I’ll say, “I don’t have any idea what you’re talking about!”
That’s how we keep our May Day tradition alive. My son sent me a text to wish me “Happy May Day” first thing this morning. My daughter may pick some snap dragons and roses from our back yard and pound on the door tonight after school and her swim meet.
I’ll run outside and won’t be able to contain the smile on my face as I race around the yard trying to catch her.
Happy May Day, everyone! How do you celebrate May Day? Do your kids make baskets?