Why we remember with ordinary things
I remember making bread with my godfather in his apartment in Germany.
Your moment for today
Share a food that reminds you of someone, and tell one story about that person. It can be something you bake, something you buy, or something already on the table.
He taught me how to make a good sourdough. We used freshly ground grains… rye, wheat, barley… and let the dough rise overnight. He showed me how to use a bread basket for proofing, how to give the dough the time it needed, and how to make something wonderful out of a handful of simple ingredients.
When the loaf was finally baked and had cooled enough, he brought it to a big family brunch.
And we all shared it.
My godfather was one of the people behind the European Bread Museum in Germany. He devoted much of his life to preserving the history and traditions of bread: something so ordinary that we rarely stop to consider how deeply it is woven into human life.
He passed away in August 2025.
As I began exploring the traditions surrounding Halloween, All Saints’ Day, and All Souls’ Day, I discovered something that brought those memories back to me.
In parts of Austria, there is an old tradition of godparents giving their godchildren a special braided loaf for All Saints’ Day.
Bread, given from a godparent to a godchild.
I had never connected my own experience with this particular tradition before. And it made me wonder about something larger.
Why does bread appear so often in traditions of remembrance? And why, across different cultures, do we find many of the same simple things like bread, candles, flowers, or photographs when people gather to remember those who have died?
Bread: The Gift We Make and Share
Bread is one of humanity’s oldest prepared foods. Across centuries and continents, people have ground grain, mixed dough, tended fires, and gathered around meals.
Its ingredients vary, as do the ways it is prepared. But bread has long been associated with nourishment, hospitality, generosity, and community.
And in several European traditions, it has a special place during the days of remembrance at the beginning of November.
In parts of Austria, the Allerheiligenstriezel is a sweet braided bread traditionally given to godchildren by their godparents. In some regions, All Saints’ Day was even known as Godntag, a day when godparents visited and brought their godchildren a loaf.
Historically, special breads were also given to children and people in need, sometimes with the understanding that the recipients would pray for the departed.
The bread was both nourishment and a gesture of remembrance.
In England, another custom developed around All Souls’ Day. People would go from house to house asking for soul cakes, small spiced cakes or breads. In return, they offered prayers for deceased family members.
In Portugal, children still take part in versions of Pão-por-Deus, visiting neighbors on All Saints’ Day and receiving small cakes, bread, fruit, or other treats.
And in Mexico, Pan de Muerto (Bread of the Dead) is an important part of Día de Muertos, the Days of the Dead. Often decorated with shapes representing bones, the bread is shared by families and placed on ofrendas, the colorful offerings prepared to honor departed loved ones.
These customs have different histories and different religious meanings. Some emphasize prayer, others hospitality, family bonds, or welcoming the departed.
Yet something recognizable connects them.
Someone prepares food. Someone offers it. Someone receives it.
And through that ordinary act, a relationship is acknowledged, a life is remembered, or a community is brought together.
Candles: A Light in the Darkness
Bread is not the only familiar object that appears in remembrance traditions.
Consider the candle.
In Germany and Austria, families often visit cemeteries around Allerheiligen and Allerseelen, All Saints’ and All Souls’ Day. Graves are decorated with flowers and greenery, and small candles or grave lights are left burning.
A grave light can be a sign of hope and remembrance.
In Mexico, candles are also important elements of the ofrenda. They are traditionally understood as lights that help guide departed loved ones back to the homes where they are remembered.
The religious meanings are not identical.
But there is something deeply moving about lighting a candle for someone who is no longer with us.
A flame is small and fragile. It requires care. And in the autumn, as evenings grow longer and the natural world moves toward winter, its warmth and brightness become especially noticeable.
Perhaps that is part of why candlelight feels so fitting.
We cannot make someone return simply by wishing it. But we can light a candle, sit beside it for a moment, and remember.
Flowers: Beauty That Does Not Last
Flowers are another familiar part of remembrance.
Around All Saints’ Day, graves may be decorated with flowers, wreaths, and evergreen branches.
In Mexico, brilliant orange cempasúchil, or marigolds, are among the most recognizable flowers of Día de Muertos. Their color and fragrance are traditionally believed to help guide the departed toward the places prepared for them.
Again, the specific traditions are different.
But flowers offer something particularly suited to remembrance.
They are beautiful, living, and temporary.
They grow, bloom, and eventually fade. They remind us of the seasons and of the natural changes that accompany life.
And perhaps bringing flowers to a grave or placing them beside a family photograph is a way of offering beauty when words feel insufficient.
We cannot stop time. But we can gather something lovely from the living world and offer it with care.
Photographs: Remembering the Person
And then there are photographs.
A photograph is not an ancient ritual object in the way bread or candlelight can be. Photography is a relatively recent invention.
Yet photographs have become deeply important in the ways many families remember.
On Mexican ofrendas, photographs commonly identify the loved ones being honored and welcomed.
In other homes, a framed photograph may stand on a mantel, a shelf, or a small remembrance table.
We look at a familiar face and remember more than an image.
We remember a voice. A particular expression. Something the person always said. The food they liked, the stories they told, the things they taught us.
For children, photographs can open conversations about people they never met, or knew only briefly.
A photograph of a great-grandparent might lead to a story about childhood long ago. An image of a family gathering might bring back a funny moment that would otherwise have been forgotten.
In this way, remembering becomes something we do together.
Why Do These Symbols Appear Across Cultures?
It is tempting to look at these similarities and conclude that all remembrance traditions have the same origins or meanings.
They do not.
The Christian observances of All Saints and All Souls have their own histories. Día de Muertos reflects a distinctive blending of Indigenous Mexican and Catholic traditions. European folk customs developed differently across regions, religious communities, and historical periods.
Even within the same country, families may observe these days in very different ways.
Still, these traditions reveal something worth considering.
Perhaps ordinary objects appear so often in remembrance because they allow us to express feelings that are difficult to put into words.
Bread gives us something to prepare and share.
A candle gives us something to light.
Flowers give us something beautiful to gather and offer.
A photograph gives us a familiar face around which stories can grow.
These gestures don’t erase absence. They don’t require everyone to believe the same things about death or what comes afterward.
But they give us a way to express love, gratitude, and memory through action.
And they can make remembrance accessible to children.
A young child may not fully understand the passage of generations or the religious meaning of a particular holiday. But they can help knead dough, place a flower beside a photograph, or listen to a story about someone their family remembers.
Sometimes a simple gesture says more than a long explanation.
A Small Tradition of Our Own
I love the idea of bringing some of these traditions into our own family life.
Not by trying to recreate every custom or borrowing religious meanings we don’t fully understand, but by making space for remembrance in a way that feels authentic to us.
Perhaps around All Saints and All Souls, we bake a loaf of bread.
We might light a candle at dinner, bring out an old photograph, or tell the children about someone whose life touched ours.
Maybe we share a story about a grandparent, a godparent, an old friend, or someone from a generation long before our own.
We might remember a favorite meal, a particular kindness, or something that person taught us.
It doesn’t have to be elaborate. It doesn’t have to be sad.
Children can experience remembrance through funny stories, familiar foods, gratitude, and the simple pleasure of being together.
There is room for both joy and sadness, sometimes in the same memory.
One Small Thing
Bake or share something in memory of someone.
It might be a loaf of bread, a favorite cake, or simply a meal that reminds you of someone who mattered.
If you have children, tell them a story about that person while you prepare or share it.
What did they love? What made them laugh? What did they teach you?
You don’t need a special recipe or an elaborate celebration.
Just a little time together, and a story worth passing on.
Your turn
Is there a food that brings someone back to mind? I’d love to hear who it reminds you of.
For more letters, seasonal ideas, and practical ways to begin, join me at Small Moments · Full Life.
Related reading: Three Books Into the World · Welcome to Fall
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