Happy May Day!

(As opposed to mayday, which is never happy.)

One of the tutors at our university made little May Day treats to give her friends this morning, and that got us started talking about May Day memories. I will share mine:

When I was in third grade, my mom helped me make May Day baskets for my teacher, Ms. Christianson (the first "Ms." I'd ever met, who referred to her ex-husband as "The Incredible Hulk" because of his temper--should her students have known this?) and for my second-grade teacher, Miss Ketterling. Mom let me know that May baskets are properly dropped off anonymously--often on a doorstep before ringing the doorbell and running like the wind--so I sneaked into each teacher's classroom after getting off the bus the morning of May 1, 1979, left on her desk whatever homemade-basket-and-candy creation I had made with Mom's help, and then went to the playground, content that I had not been seen.

Mom had also let me know that, should a May basket recipient discover the identity of the giver, he/she is supposed to reward said giver with a kiss. (You may already know where this story is going.) Miss Ketterling was on playground duty that morning and, as was standard procedure, ended the pre-lunch recess session by having first-graders line up separately from second-graders separately from third-graders. I must have been suspicious and/or giggly, because we made eye contact, and immediately I knew that she knew. She kept her eye on me as she allowed the first-graders to pass into the building and then the second-graders. I was very squirrelly by the time she got to our line, and as I approached her--standing beside the door through which I had to pass--I dodged to evade her grasp and sneak inside in front of a classmate. No luck. Miss Ketterling grabbed me and planted a big smooch on my cheek and thanked me for the May basket.

Later that day I was in class with Ms. Christianson. We were having SSR (sustained silent reading), and our desks were moved to various spots around the room--I suppose to keep us from distracting classmates otherwise seated beside us. I remember that my desk was scootched up against the bookshelves on the west side of the classroom. Ms. Christianson was doing her thing, walking about the room and monitoring the class. At one point she stopped to speak to a student and then headed over to the bookshelves. She stood by my desk and reached up to grab something from the top shelf. I noticed but didn't pay much attention; I was reading, after all, and she was apparently getting something for the student to whom she had just spoken. Once she had grabbed whatever it was, she made a single motion out of bringing her arms back down, bending over, kissing me on the cheek, and sweeping away back to the other student's desk without saying a word. I had been found out again!

I mowed our lawn this evening (first cutting of the year) and afterward cleaned out the flower beds on the north and west sides of our house. While working, I noticed a vehicle slowly drive up the street, make a U-turn, and park--motor still running--in front of the house across the street. A mom and little boy got out, whispering and holding something, and ran sneakily (hunched over, on tiptoes) to the next house, placed the thing on the doorstep, rang the doorbell, and ran like mad back to the vehicle, laughing as they drove away. What a cute tradition.

Does anybody out there still do this?

P.S. Suzanna cut out and colored a picture of a May basket at her after-school program this afternoon. She wrote a note on the back (things like, "Guess who this is?" and "Write me a note if you figure out who I am") and plans to slip it into a particular boy's locker tomorrow at school. A day late but still darned cute.