Posted tagged ‘May procession’

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“May: the lilacs are in bloom. Forget yourself.”

May 19, 2016

Yesterday my irrigation guy came to turn on the lawn water and the outdoor shower. He told me I wouldn’t be taking a shower for a while. I was curious. He told me there was a giant nest in the shower and tons of pine cone pieces. A spawn of Satan daring to build a nest to reproduce was my first thought. I went this morning to check. It is a giant pile, but I didn’t see an opening indicating it might be a nest but I forgot to check the backside in case the spawn chewed through to make a door. I’ll do that later. If it is empty-the pile will be a memory. If there are spawn babies, I’ll wait.

I am announcing it is spring. I know it’s chilly during the day, but the nights only get as low as the 40’s. I even had my window opened all night.

Lately I have had a feeling of anticipation, a sense of something coming. I haven’t ordered anything, am not expecting visitors and no parade is being organized for my street. I’m at a loss so I’ll just have to be patient, not a strong point of mine.

The May procession was around this time. It was on a Sunday, and the whole school took part. The second graders wore their white first communion outfits. The rest of the boys had to wear white shirts and a tie. The colors of their pants didn’t matter. The girls had to wear dresses. The route was a square, not a circle. We started at the school and ended up at the grotto beside the church. The outside of the grotto was stone. A statue of Mary was in a high niche in the front. All the students stood circling the grotto and sang the songs we’d been practicing for weeks. “Mary, we greet thee with flowers today, Queen of the angels, Queen of the May.”I was in eight May processions so I still remember snatches of all the songs. Parents lined the streets to see the procession. Many of them had cameras, Brownie cameras. The pictures were in black and white. Somewhere in the house I have a few of the photos my parents took the year I crowned Mary. I had to walk up a ladder holding the crown of flowers and then placed the crown on the head of the statue. It was quite an honor. The only things I remember are stopping for photos on the route and having Father Smith help me up the ladder because I was wearing an old wedding gown which came to my ankles, and he was afraid I’d trip. That was the highlight of my elementary school years.

The sun is shining. There isn’t a breeze. It is a good day.

 

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“I couldn’t help thinkin’ if she was as far out o’ town as she was out o’ tune, she wouldn’t get back in a day.”

September 7, 2014

The rain arrived sometime after 1:30. At 5 I woke up and could hear drops hitting the window. I don’t know how long it rained, but it rinsed away all the humidity and heat. This morning is a delight. The deck is dappled with sunlight. The air is dry and cool. All the windows and doors are open letting in the feel and smell of fresh air. Gracie is sleeping on the rug by the front door. She knows a good thing.

I sing but am always off tune. I wish I weren’t. Mostly I sing at home or in the car. I never sing in front of people. In the third grade I was told to mouth the words during the May procession. I was eight. Luckily that never dampened my love for music. I still remember that nun, Sister Eileen Marie, who was one of my favorites until that fateful practice. She was the only nun who let my dog stay in the classroom when he followed me to school. With other nuns, I had to leave school to take him home which was actually sort of fun. It was permission to take a field trip of my own, just the dog and me. My mother was always surprised.

Duke slept on a rug on the floor under the clock. Our classroom was in the cellar of the rectory as the school had run out of rooms and no one knew except us that Duke was allowed to stay. I thought that pretty neat, like we had a mascot. We had tables instead of desks, and the windows were high up and small like cellar windows are. We entered through a door beside the garage as the cellar was mostly above ground. We were the only class not in the school, and I loved having a private room. I loved the tables and folding chairs instead of desks. We piled our books and supplies in front of us down the middle of the tables. We had our own bathrooms: one for girls and one for boys and it was one at a time like a real bathroom. There were no bells. In the old building a student would stand on the top floor and ring a hand bell to tell us to change subjects, eat lunch or go home. In the cellar we kept an eye on the clock especially as we got closer to the end of the school day. We didn’t want to stay an extra minute.

The next year we were back in the old building on the top floor. We were one among many. It just wasn’t as fun.

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” For I’m to be Queen o’ the May, mother, I’m to be Queen o’ the May.”

May 17, 2013

Today is much chillier than yesterday though still sunny. I was on the deck for only a few minutes this morning before I felt cold and came back inside. Gracie followed me. She is my barometer. If Gracie stays outside, it’s warm. If not, it’s a bit chilly. She’s looking out the front door right now. It’s her view to the world, the small world of our street.

Outside is quiet. Not even a dog is barking. Yesterday I could hear lawn mowers and blowers. Today I hear birds. I know when it gets warm enough to open the windows, I’ll hear all the sounds around me: cars going down the street, people talking, dogs barking at each other and kids laughing and yelling, the ones who live at the other end of my road. My bedroom window is already open, but it’s late when I go to bed so all is quiet.

We always had the May procession around the middle of the month. Every single grade, from 1 to 8, took part. The first grades, for a few weeks before the big day, were taught the songs while the rest of us just practiced a little. We sang the same songs every year so once you learned them they stayed in your head. I still know the words to a couple of them. We all wore our best clothes, girls in dresses and boys in creased pants, shirts and ties. The second graders wore their white first communion suits and dresses. The procession was a long block walk. We sang as we walked. The sidewalks were lined with mostly parents. It wasn’t like a parade with cheering, but there were some claps to acknowledge us. We always ended at the grotto next to the church where there was a statue of Mary in a niche. Every year it was an eighth grader who climbed stairs to the niche and crowned Mary with flowers while everyone sang Oh, Mary We crown thee with blossoms today. When I was an eighth grader, I was chosen to crown Mary. It was quite the honor. I was nervous, and I remember climbing the stairs and finding I couldn’t quite get the crown on her head. It was a little too high so the priest who was spotting me on the stairs sort of pulled my arm a little higher and I was able to crown Mary with the flowers.

After the crowning we all walked in a procession to the schoolyard which was just behind the grotto. The procession ended there and the photo ops began. Groups stood on the school lawn and parents used their Brownies to snap pictures. One of my favorites is all of us in what must have been our Easter dresses and my brother in his first communion white suit. He was seven then, and I was eight. The front group is kneeling on the grass, and we are all pretending to pray. That picture makes me smile. I know my mother put us up to the pretend praying. It’s not anything we’d have ever done on our own. We’d probably been running around playing on the lawn, May procession or not.

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“Queen of the Angels and Queen of the May.”

May 3, 2011

Today is spring on Cape Cod, cool and sunny with a cloudy deep blue sky. Skip, my factotum, is here which is why I’m late. I have a day’s worth of stuff for him to do, and I was out on the deck for a long while with him explaining all the different chores. He took the covers off the furniture while we chatted and seeing the furniture again has made me itchy for warm days on the deck with a good book in hand. We checked the umbrellas to make sure they’d light. They did and then Skip started the fountain. My backyard haven is almost there, almost my summer paradise again. I can hardly wait to see all the candles hanging from the trees and lighting up the night.

When I was in elementary school, we had a May procession every year. We’d practice our songs in class until we knew all the words by heart. On that special day we wore our Sunday best. The second graders wore their first communion white dresses and suits. We were lined up by grade,  youngest to oldest. Walking at the end of the procession was the girl who would crown the statue of Mary in the grotto beside the church. We marched around the block from the school to the grotto. The block was a square and the procession ended almost at the same spot where it had started. Parents with Brownie cameras lined the route. You could hear names being called so pictures could be snapped. We walked as if we were in prayer with our hands in front. The nuns walked beside their classes making sure there was no talking between the songs. We managed to talk anyway. I remember when I was little I’d check out the crowds looking for my parents. The religious significance of the day was totally lost on me. When I was in the eighth grade, I did the crowning. I remember people snapping pictures of me on the route as I walked by them. I think I may have even posed a little. At the grotto, I had to climb a set of stairs and then put the crown on the statue. I was wearing my neighbor’s wedding dress, and I almost tripped on the train, but I managed to get up and down those stairs without falling, a major accomplishment for me. I remember the day was sunny, warm and beautiful.

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“You are as welcome as the flowers in May.”

May 1, 2010

In the old days, May Day was cause for the dreaded Soviets to haul out their tanks, missiles, assorted weapons and legions and march through the streets of Moscow. In the really old days it was time to wear a flower crown in your hair and dance around the Maypole. I’m all for ribbons and crowns.

It’s going to be a beautifully warm, sunny May Day. Gracie is already asleep on the lounge in the sun. I sense a territorial skirmish is afoot.

May was a big month when I was a kid. There was Mother’s Day and there was the May procession.

It was about this time we started practicing all the songs for the procession. They were the same songs every year, and I still know most of them, “O Mary, we crown thee with blossoms today, Queen of the Angels, Queen of the May.” The week before the procession, the nuns would herd us into the school yard and we’d practice marching two by two, class by class. The whole school took part in the May procession. Parents and grandparents lined the streets. The second graders wore their first communion white dresses and white suits and the rest of us wore our Sunday best. We walked from the school a couple of blocks around to the stone grotto. I remember how excited I was to march and how hard I tried to be solemn, as befitting the occasion. I remember it was always sunny and warm.

I was in eight May processions. In my last one, in the eighth grade, I was chosen to do the crowning. That made me last in the procession. I stopped often to pose for pictures.

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