There was a time when the first day of May meant something quietly magical.
On the morning of May 1st, neighbors would open their doors to find a small surprise hanging from the doorknobāa basket of flowers left in secret, often by a friend, a child, or even an admirer who didnāt want to be seen. No notifications. No labels. No expectation of anything in return. Just a simple act of kindness: a May Day basket.
