May Day has always been one of my favorite holidays. As a child I would weave paper baskets, pick handfuls of our neighbors flowers and re-gift them…sneaking up quietly to the front door, depositing the basket on the doorknob, knocking real hard and running away really fast. Hidden behind a bush, I’d sit and watch as “Aunt Vi” would open the door and seem so surprised to find a May Day basket hanging on her door.

Once the grandchildren came to stay with us we would create all sorts of containers to hold flowers, cut or planted or dirt and seeds, from handkerchiefs to tea cups. They, in turn, would sneak, knock and run to about 15 of our friends and neighbors homes delivering May Day Baskets. One May Day delivery, in particular, will stay with me forever. Simon was about 4 years old. This beautiful white haired, blue eyed boy sneaked up to our only “difficult” neighbor’s house. He knocked and ran and waited…nothing. Sneaked, knocked, ran and waited…still nothing. So, he went and took the basket from the front door and we went around back. Our neighbor met us at the back door spitting mad and ready to attack. He then saw Simon holding a lovely basket of flowers out to him, greeting him with, “Happy May Day!” From that moment forward, we had no more “difficult” neighbors!

On this lovely May 1st morning I wish you love.

Love that brings joy to little children.

Love that fills Grammas to overflowing.

Love that melts hearts.