The first of May has always held significance for me. I don't know exactly why. Sure, my life now centers around the first of May, but that hasn't always been the case. Still, I remember celebrating the first of May even as a little kid. I would make May baskets out of construction paper squares, folding the paper diagonally, twisting the paper triangle into a cone and securing with copious amounts of scotch tape. Add a strip of construction paper for the handle, fill with an assortment of flowers from the mother's garden, and the basket is ready for delivery. May baskets are to be delivered anonymously, of course, so I'd hang the baskets on the neighbors' doorknobs, ring the doorbell ... and run. I wonder now if other kids participated in this ritual. For me, the first of May was a holiday, right up there with Valentine's Day and the fourth of July.
I also cannot overlook the significance of May 1st in the U.S. labor movement. Although the Haymarket bombing was tragically violent, did the event hasten the adoption of the eight hour work day and lead to passage of child labor laws? If the bomb hadn't been thrown, how much longer would it have taken to achieve these goals? And how many more children would have died working in factories?
So the first of May has arrived--finally--and numbers are good. Life is good ... or will be ... soon. Another year begins.
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