April showers bring May flowers.
And May flowers bring back memories.
It seems like only yesterday when I found the handmade construction paper basket hanging on our front door. The flowers had been plucked by childish hands, a few dandelions added for an extra spot of color.
“Girls!” I had called to my daughters, Traci and Tiffany. “Look at the cute May basket someone left for us.”
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But, who could it be? That was the big question.
What fun we’d had that first day of May as we’d played the guessing game. Who would have sneaked onto our front porch with us inside unaware?
The giggles and guesses pattered like gentle rain.
Thinking back, we were never sure who had surprised us that day. But years later, children grown, the sweet fragrance of that simple kindness still lingers.
I’ll cling to that remembrance on this first day of May, for the reason that I won’t find a fresh new May basket fashioned by a child’s hands.
Yet when I open my front door, I’m greeted with tiny hyacinths pushing up from the soil, tulips turning their heads to the morning sun, and the reflection of green that rises to greet the old wooden fence.
The quiet beauty is breathtaking in the morning dew. The earth is vibrantly alive.
It appears that I’ve been blessed with May flowers, after all.