Many moons ago, circa 1975, I vividly remember attending the May Day Celebration at Stanton Elementary School in S.E. Washington, DC. Everyone was dressed up. I had on a sky-blue cotton “gown” made especially for me by my designer and mother Ms. Annie. She was also my hairstylist. She had pressed my hair and styled it into a lovely mushroom. I felt pretty, but I was also very afraid. I am not sure why. I did not have to do or say anything (not that I can recall) by myself, but fear gripped me. I was able to eventually get a grip and participate as the entire group of students (K-6) sang, held long ribbons and danced around the “Maypole”. It was lovely, but it’s not until now that I fully grasp the significance of it all.
From a worldly perspective, May Day equates to Labor Day – and is meant to celebrate workers and honor their challenges and successes. However, from another perspective, “mayday” is a call of distress! Remember the old war TV shows like MASH? They used to cry out “MAYDAY” when they needed urgent help. God was with me on that sunny Thursday in 1975. I did not know the words of prayer, nor did I understand the purpose of Mayday in terms of celebrating workers, but I knew I needed help, and God certainly helped me because I overcame my fear and enjoyed the day. Mayday has become a beautiful core memory for me 51 years later.
Given the state of the world, I choose to continue to view Mayday as a urgent call for help. Today I am lifting my eyes to the HILLS – because I know where my help comes from.
“I lift up my eyes to the mountains—where does my help come from? My help comes from the LORD, the Maker of heaven and earth.” Psalm 121: 1-2
Selah.
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