[Scene: A small café in Lyon on a sunny May 1st. The street outside is bustling with people selling lily of the valley bouquets. Two friends, Camille and Jules, are sipping coffee at an outdoor table.]
Camille (beaming, holding a little bouquet of lily of the valley): Jules! Happy May 1st! Look what I got you!
Jules (raising an eyebrow): Oh no, not again. Camille, you know I don’t need flowers to be happy.
Camille (laughing): Don’t be grumpy! It’s tradition! Giving lily of the valley on May 1st brings happiness and good luck for the year. You should be thanking me — I’m basically handing you a lucky charm.
Jules (smiling): And here I thought my morning coffee was enough luck. Camille, you know there’s no scientific proof that a little white flower can change your fate, right?
Camille (mock gasp): No scientific proof?! Jules, you’re missing the point! It’s not about science, it’s about tradition, about sharing joy. My grandmother gave me lily of the valley every year when I was a child, and I swear, those were always my happiest days.
Jules: Are you sure it was the flower and not, say, the fact that you were a carefree kid eating pain au chocolat all day?
Camille (grinning): Maybe… but still, the flower was part of the magic!
Jules: Listen, I get that it’s meaningful to you. But luck doesn’t come from plants. It comes from preparation, hard work, and maybe a bit of probability. If flowers really brought good luck, don’t you think florists would be billionaires?
Camille (laughing): Florists are billionaires on May 1st!
Jules: Touché. But seriously — think about it. If I give you lily of the valley and you win the lottery tomorrow, that’s just coincidence. It’s like carrying a rabbit’s foot or avoiding black cats — charming, but not causally linked to outcome.
Camille (playfully narrowing eyes): Oh, Mr. Rational. Didn’t you avoid stepping under that ladder the other day?
Jules (chuckling): Okay, yes, but only because I didn’t want a paint bucket to fall on my head! That’s physics, not superstition.
Camille: Hmm. Let me ask you this — don’t you think there’s value in rituals that make people feel connected, even if they’re not scientifically proven? When I give someone lily of the valley, they smile. Isn’t spreading happiness a kind of luck?
Jules (nodding thoughtfully): That’s fair. There’s definitely value in the gesture. But I think we should be clear on why it matters — because it’s kind, not because it changes the universe’s odds in our favor.
Camille: Fine, Professor Jules, I’ll admit it’s mostly about kindness. But you have to admit, it feels like magic sometimes. Last year, after I gave you flowers, you got that promotion, remember?
Jules (grinning): After months of working overtime, yes! You see, that’s exactly what I’m saying. Flowers didn’t earn me that raise — my lack of sleep did.
Camille (smirking): Or maybe the flowers gave you just enough luck to impress the boss.
Jules (laughing): You’re impossible. Okay, okay — how about this: I’ll accept your lily of the valley, but only under protest.
Camille (grinning): Deal. And I’ll keep pretending you secretly believe in magic.
Jules (raising his coffee cup): To science, kindness, and slightly suspicious flowers.
Camille (clinking her cup against his): To luck, love, and driving rational friends crazy!
[They both laugh, watching as a child runs by with a huge bouquet, and the café fills with the scent of spring.]

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