Spring’s arrival in China brings Qingming, when families venture out for tomb-sweeping pilgrimages. Armed with brooms, incense and colorful paper offerings, they clear weeds and pay respects at ancestral graves. Joss paper “spirit money” and symbolic goods—miniature cars or smartphones—get burned to ensure ancestors lack nothing in the afterlife. Bullish high-speed rail ridership this April saw millions of city dwellers make the journey home, blending solemn duty with a festive outing in blossoming parks.

In Japan, mid-summer Obon summons ancestral spirits back to the earthly realm. Neighborhoods light lanterns at dusk—some floating gently down rivers in slow, flickering processions known as toro nagashi. Bon odori dances spring up in temple courtyards, where yukata-clad dancers echo centuries-old rhythms. Even Tokyo’s skyscraper shadows can’t dim the glow of paper lanterns strung from balconies, each bearing a family’s hope to honor lineage through communal cheer.

Vu Lan in Vietnam, often called the “Mother’s Day of filial piety,” centers on Buddhist rites held during the seventh lunar month. Devotees tie red strings for living parents and white for those departed, winding them around their wrists in a vivid reminder of family bonds. Temples fill with the scent of incense and offerings of fruit, flowers and vegetarian feasts. Charitable acts—feeding the poor or sponsoring orphanages—become an extension of gratitude toward one’s own ancestors, weaving compassion into remembrance.

Across East and Southeast Asia, these celebrations share a common thread: making the past part of the present. Whether sweeping graves, dancing under lantern light or tying strings of devotion, each festival transforms private memory into a living tapestry, reminding everyone that roots, once nurtured, continue to shape new blossoms.