May Day

May 1st is May Day. This is my remembrance of what I used to do as a child on the first day of May. Bear in mind I was a young child during the 1950's. Things were different. Maybe a little Ozzie and Harriet-ish. May Day was supposed to be a day when you secretly delivered a little basket of hand picked flowers or candy or homemade cookies (even rice crispie bars) to someone you were especially fond of. I remember making a basket by rolling colorful construction paper into a cone shape and gluing the sides together and adding a strap or handle. A woven handle was especially pretty and added just that extra special touch. The paper basket had been decorated with elaborate (or so I thought at the time) drawings. A few sweets were put into the basket and a message was added. The idea was to take the basket up to the intended recipients house and place it on the door knob, ring the bell and quickly run away so no one sees you. This involved a little planning in advance so you knew exactly which bushes to hide in or which corner of the house offered the most protection. The stakeout was done the day before while walking home from school. Once the basket was delivered and the doorbell rung the object was to run away as fast as possible and hide. It was so hard not to peek, though. Just to see if the person really answered the door, of course. And sometimes, after falling prey to that temptation, I would end up staring directly at the person I wanted to gift ever so secretly. Busted! What was even more horrifying was if the person I was staring at was someones mother. Ouch!! One year I made a double cone basket because I wanted to send a May Day surprise to the twins--Bobby and Billy. A beautiful thing, it was. And then there was the year that the boy that lived across the street and down the block walked over to my house and planted a May Day basket on the front door for me. He tried to hide from me around the side of the house but I had seen him coming and I was prepared. (I was diligently manning the living room window in hopes that someone would think of me.) I busted him when I opened the window in my Dad's study and called his name. "I see you, Jimmy!" I just remember running out of the back door and chasing him down the street, laughing of course. I always thought it was nice to surprise someone with an unexpected gift. I still do. It was a simpler day then. Maybe I just think it was simpler because I was a child. I loved May Day then. And now.