Brich: Remembering May Day and the power of small kindnesses

At one time, the first day of May carried a certain kind of magic, one made of a small, thoughtful gesture. May Day baskets, usually handmade and filled with popcorn, candy, and flowers, would appear on doorknobs and front steps, left anonymously by children who then darted away before being seen. 
The tradition was a simple one:  give without expecting recognition, brighten someone’s day, and, if you were a lucky recipient, maybe catch a glimpse of your mysterious benefactor.
Today, that ritual has largely faded, joining a growing list of customs which once helped define the rhythm of everyday life in small towns and neighborhoods across the country. Its disappearance should remind us of what we have lost as these traditions slip away.
At first glance, May Day baskets might seem quaint, even trivial, in a world driven by digital communication and constant connectivity. But their value was never in the basket itself. It was in the act of participation; in the planning, the crafting, the quiet excitement of sneaking up to a neighbor’s door, and the shared understanding within a community that something kind and playful was unfolding.
These traditions created connection without requiring grand organization or formal events. They relied on initiative, creativity, and a sense of belonging. In many ways, they were early lessons in community engagement. Children learned not only how to give, but how to do so thoughtfully and anonymously, without the expectation of praise.
May Day is one of many traditions that have faded over time. Front porch visits, once a staple of daily life, have been replaced by text messages and social media updates. Handwritten letters have given way to emails and quick replies. Even caroling during the holidays and neighborhood get-togethers, events that once  brought people together face-to-face, have become less common or more formalized.
None of these traditions disappeared overnight, and their decline isn’t the result of a single cause. Life has become busier, schedules more demanding, and communities more spread out. Technology, while offering convenience and connection across distances, has also reshaped how we interact with those closest to us. It is easier than ever to communicate, yet often harder to build the kind of meaningful, local relationships that traditions like May Day baskets once encouraged.
There has also been a shift in how we think about time and value. Activities that don’t produce measurable outcomes or immediate rewards are often the first to be set aside. Making a May Day basket takes effort, and the  payoff, often a smile from a neighbor, perhaps never even witnessed, doesn’t fit neatly into a results-driven mindset.
But dismissing these traditions as outdated overlooks their quiet importance. They provided a shared cultural language, something that connected generations. Parents who once delivered May Day baskets as children could pass the tradition on, creating continuity in a rapidly changing world. Without these touchstones, communities risk becoming collections of individuals rather than networks of relationships.
I have two favorite May Day memories. One year, I decided to ditch the decorated cups we usually used and make handmade baskets out of construction paper. It was quite the task for a not-so-crafty 8-year-old, and thankfully, I was assisted by my grandparents, who sacrificed their time, kitchen table, and a lot of glue to my cause.
Another year involved my own children. We set out to deliver May baskets around town, a great idea until it started to rain, which quickly turned to sleet and eventually snow. A few baskets were spilled along the way as we slid from house to house during a spring snowfall.
Traditions don’t have to be preserved exactly as they once were to remain meaningful. What matters is the spirit behind them, the small, intentional acts that bring people together. 
Whether through reviving May Day baskets or creating new ways to connect, there is still room for these gestures in modern life. 
In a world that often feels hurried and impersonal, a simple act of kindness quietly given, with nothing expected in return, can still carry a simple kind of magic that never really goes out of style.