Happy May Day

When our oldest son, Roy, went off to kindergarten back in 1984, May Day was still celebrated in a big way. The kids made little baskets out of construction paper and glue, complete with a handle. His teacher and a couple of the room mothers brought in cut flowers which the kids then put in their precious little baskets. They were then instructed to hang them on the door knob of a neighbor, a grandmother, a friend...His teacher must have suggested "an older lady"....Then "run and hide where you can see their surprise when they open the door."

My kids did not grow up in the same town as their grandparents and infact the closest family member we had was a 5 hr drive away, a little difficult to do an after school drive-by-flower-drop. We adopted grandparents, aunties and uncles, cousins...we created our own family here in our little town. So, when Roy came home that first May Day of his school career, we totally expected him to want to take his newly made, and very treasured, May Basket to a sweet woman who doted on Roy as if he alone was the reason for the sun rising and setting each day. But Roy decided that "Grandma Lorraine" was not an (and I quote his little man reasoning and can still his his sweet little voice) "Grandma Lorraine isn't an old lady yet". I was informed by that same sweet little voice that our neighbor would be the receiver of his precious basket (I will not reveal his reasoning)...and off he went with his little brother in tow. The two of them walked down our steps, over to the neighbors house...up her steps...hung the basket on the door...rang the doorbell...then leaped off the porch and ran home as fast as their little legs would carry them. I can still hear him encouraging his little brother "Come on Ryan, run fast!!" and all the giggling that went along with it. I was waiting on our porch with open arms for my two little guys with giving hearts as big as the world.

Together the 3 of us waited to hear the neighbors door open...and bless her heart, she wondered out loud (talking loudly just so the boys could hear) "Oh my, Russell, someone has left a beautiful May Basket on our door, I wonder who that might be." Roy was mortified...after all the gift and the giver must never be linked. Of course he did not confess....and Ryan did not spill the beans...both denying they had been anywhere but on the porch with me. Little did those two rosey cheeked little men know that the sparkle in their eyes, and Ryan's wheezing, had totally given them both away....and although it was not spoken, they were caught red handed.

The next year the story was pretty much the same...and the following year and so on and so forth...all the way through our boys' school years...yes all the way through our youngest sons' senior year in High School. After a few years those carefully hand crafted construction paper baskets were replaced by store bought pots in which the boys planted flowers in, and a few years later, when the boys were employed mowing lawns and doing other various for-pay tasks....they would split the cost of buying a beautiful hanging basket for our neighbor.

In 2000 our youngest son granduated from High School and moved to Seattle where his brother had moved a couple of years before of him. May Day 2001 rolled around and we got a call, "Mom, it's May Day, can you order Frances flowers? She needs to know we are thinking of her." I cried then...I am teary eyed now...thinking about that phone call.

No one rings the door and runs anymore...no one stands behind the hedge and giggles when the door is opened...no one stands on the porch exclaiming "Russell, someone left some beautiful flowers out here."

Russell passed away many years ago, Frances uses a walked to get to the front door. One son lives in San Diego, the other is a fisherman out in the Berring Sea. I am happy to say, none of that changes the fact that each May Day Frances is still greeted with flowers from 2 little guys (in their mid 20's) who want to bless a "older neighbor lady."

Roy and Ryan....you are both so precious to me. A couple of Sunday's ago the sermon text was Matthew 25:31-40. You both live that in so many ways....Thank you for being who you are, for knowing what you know, and for doing what you do. You both make my heart sing.