When I lived in Cleveland at about 5 years old, I used to pick flowers like Queen Anne's Lace to give to my mother and the old lady that lived next door to us. Leave them on the door step, ring the doorbell and then run so I could peek and watch them.
I think my mother told me thats what you do on May Day.
But she also told me I am supposed to rub an eggplant skin on a wart and bury it in the backyard to get rid of it.

A few years ago, back when we lived in Ohio, something wrapped in newspaper was on our front porch. I was afraid to touch it. I expected it to be a dead animal or dog poop or something like that. I kept kicking at it to peek inside.
After pushing and kicking it a bit, it saw that it was dead shriveled up flowers that someone picked and left on my porch for me, that sat out for a day until I saw it and was dead by then.
I laughed. I totally forgot about May Day, from when I was 6.
I think they did it the following year too.
One of the kids across the street I think.