May Day Posies, the next day

Growing up, there was a large sloping field next to our house. In that field, my sisters and I went sled riding, had wild wagon rides through the tall grass, chased little orange and black butterflies, and picked Queen Anne's Lace to color with food coloring.

Yesterday was May Day, a day where the coming of Spring is celebrated. The giving of May Baskets
is an old-fashioned tradition of taking a small basket, or container, filled with springtime flowers. The giving is done by leaving the basket on someone's doorknob, ringing the bell, and dashing away.

Now, my sister, Roxie, and I had our own take on May Day. In fact, it probably wasn't even May. Thinking that it would be nice to do "surprise" nice things for people, we went into the field and picked a bunch of daisies, Queen Anne's Lace and other miscellaneous pretty weeds, wrapped the stems in a wet paper towel and put the bouquet in our neighbors mailbox.

Then we waited. . .
. . . and waited.

All day we watched and waited. We anxiously watched the road for their car, alternately playing in our yard, or lying in the tall grass of the field, hiding, and hoping to catch the neighbor's look of surprise and pleasure at getting an unexpected gesture of good will.

Finally, around dusk, the car pulled in their driveway, the headlights just sweeping over the tops of mine and Roxie's heads as we lay like spies in the grass. Getting out of the car, Mrs. S walked to the mailbox, got the mail and went on her way to the house.

What?!? No tears of joy, no exclamation of astonishment?

We never knew what she thought. It was dark outside after all and the day had been hot. I am thinking that a pile of dead, wilted flowers might have been a little creepy at night.

It was the thought that counts, right?


Love,
Dianne


PS. Here's a link for making May Baskets for those that want to try it next year. You have 364 days to prepare.
http://childparenting.about.com/od/spring/a/maybasket.htm