It's May, It's May, The Lovely Month of May

When I was young my mom taught us to make May Day baskets out of colored construction paper and secured with Scotch Tape (for Jordan, my son-in-law, who works for 3M, I respecfully capitalize). Then we proceeded to either pick flowers from our yard or the neighbors’ yards if they weren’t looking, fill up the baskets, and drop them off on the front porches of other neighbors or friends. The trick was to ring the doorbell and run without being caught. I think if you were caught by the recipients they were supposed to kiss you. I don’t know. We never got caught.

We loved this tradition. I think it only lasted through our grade school years but isn’t it wonderful? Opening up your front door and finding flowers? That has happened to me thrice in the past two months but it wasn’t to celebrate May Day. The first time was when a very interesting character in my church named Rocky Rodriguez brought over some potted yellow tulips because he said the words in my Sacrament meeting talk that day touched his heart. Chelsea and I loved those yellow tulips as they cheerfully sat on our kitchen counter and greeted us each morning. I told Rocky I’d received flowers over the years but never for speaking in church. What a treat! A week or so later he dropped off a little Easter offering of miniature yellow strawflowers.

Rocky is a recovered alcoholic from Mexico who has been living in Southern California for many years. His hands are old and callused and his face is lined with wrinkles and when he's not working in someone's yard he's rescuing the souls of addicts and bringing them to his home to live for awhile. He has the heart of a poet and he is a very good writer. He has asked Chelsea and me to critique his current written pages about overcoming addictions which he hopes to publish. His writing style is reminiscent of Gabriel García Márquez and his accent is quite strong, sort of like he’s doing an impersonation of my brother-in-law, Kelly, impersonating someone speaking English with a Spanish accent mixed up with a little Antonio Banderas' Puss in Boots from Shrek. He owns a lawn and garden service called Mother’s Love which gives him access to leftover flowers. A few days ago we opened the door and found this little plant





with the following poem (see if you can hear Rocky’s voice in your mind as you read this):

Just as the sunshine is composed of so many atomic particles,
So is my contribution to bring one small spark of joy to your home
With this little precious plant that I found crying alone on a nursery shelf
After all of her sisters were sold out to decorate a brothel.

She said, “I refuse to go! I am a decent plant!
And I will rather wither and die with dignity,
Than having a long life in a house of harlots!”

Then she wept and cried for a long time as she implored,
“Take me to a good home!
Take me to a good home!
All I need is love!
All I need is love!”

I looked down to her,
And spoke with a voice like a melody born in the wind.
“Because you spoke from your heart
Your request is granted.” (It is all yours…)

Happy May Day!