May Day

I woke this morning to the sounds of birds and a slightly cloudy skies. Its mayday I told my husband and at 6:45 am his response was not enthusiastic. Ok, so what he said what is so big about May Day. 

I quickly flew back in my mind of the days when as little girl my sister and I would pick flowers from moms precious rock garden. She would be sure we chose the good ones but did not trample her precious plants. We were so excited as we wrapped the stems in tissue paper that was wet and than tied a plastic bag around the ends so they would not drip. 

Then we cut out cones made of pink or red construction paper and taped them shut along the line making a cute basket. This was the fun part, stapling the handle to the top and placing our pretty gift in the middle of it. 

It was usually fairly early in the morning. And since we were home schooled we did not have a bus to catch or dead lines to meet right at the moment. But due to early morning chores, goats to feed, a dog that demanded food and one silver tabby cat we had our work cut out for us. 

My mom though, always knew when May Day arrived and the ritual of gathering flowers to place on neighbors doors early in the morning was and still is a pleasant memory. 

My eyes teared up a bit. Granted it was early and I had not had my coffee but the memories were still very clear. How simple it is to give for one brief moment a small bouquet of flowers to someone dear to you. The most fun was sneaking up to their door, hanging the small basket on the knob, ringing the door bell and running away as quickly as our short legs would carry us! I still remember the looks on their faces when they saw the small gift hanging in the early morning light.