On my first visit to Paris, France, I awoke on May first to find a small pot of lilies-of-the-valley on the table next to my bed, gift from my landlady, Hélène Pillet, who became a wonderful friend over the years. In her memory, I offer these May Day flowers to all my friends.
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I have been giving my mother a May basket since I was a child. When I was a little girl I would hang a tiny basket of violets on the front door knob, ring the bell and then hide. She always pretended to be surprised and perplexed, but I'm sure her delight was genuine. As an adult living 500 miles away, I send her flowers ever May 1st to keep up the tradition, and it's something we've both come to enjoy and count on as a rite of spring.
That's so sweet, Maiya! I can imagine how much it means to your mom, too.
Besides my May first in Paris, I have two favorite Mother's Day memories around this time of year. One was my son taking me to a champagne brunch with his newspaper delivery earnings. That was in downtown Kalamazoo. The second was driving up from Champaign-Urbana to take my own mother out to dinner after church and then for a drive through Joliet's Pilcher Park, where the wildflowers were all in bloom. All is rebirth, reconnection and promise in May. And the winter is OVER!!!
Yesterday the kindergarten students from the neighborhood Catholic church delivered hand-made baskets of flowers (made from art paper) to neighbors. It was very nice to see them out, with their teachers, with one student ringing the doorbell to give the flowers and the other students and teacher waiting on the sidewalk.
How lovely it must have been, Deborah, to see this old tradition carried on in your neighborhood! Remember that song from the MIKADO? "The flowers that bloom in the spring, tra-la!" Nothing more welcome, is there?
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