Tag Archives: Folk Belief

The Girl with the Red Thread

Age: 18

Context:

One evening, while walking on campus with my friend, we began sharing spooky stories. She suddenly recalled something that had haunted her for years — a strange experience she had as a child, which had blurred the lines between dream, memory, and legend. This is the story she told me.

The Story:

When she was around 7 or 8 years old, she lived in a home with a study room that had a bed but was rarely used. One night, after waking from a nightmare, she found herself in that very study — a place she never usually slept in. She remembered lying beside her mom, both of them facing the wall, and gently shaking her awake out of fear.

She asked her mom to tell her a story because she couldn’t sleep. Strangely, her mom — who was known to strictly avoid ghost stories or anything scary — agreed. What happened next would stay with her for life.

Still facing the wall, her mom began to tell a ghost story. In the story, a nurse was working the night shift at a hospital. One evening, while heading out from the first floor, she took the elevator — but somehow, the elevator inexplicably descended to the 4th basement level instead, a floor used as a morgue.

This floor had no button, no lights, and no one should have been able to access it. But the elevator stopped there, the doors opened, and the nurse saw a little girl standing silently in the dark. The girl got into the elevator with her.

As the nurse glanced over, she noticed a red thread tied around the girl’s wrist. In Chinese superstition, red thread on the wrist is sometimes associated with the dead. The nurse was so frightened she reportedly died on the spot.

What terrified my friend wasn’t just the story itself — it was the realization much later in life that this was a widely circulated urban legend. Many people she later met had heard it before. And yet, she had never heard it before that night, and neither had her mother — who later insisted, repeatedly and sincerely, that she had no memory of telling the story, or even of waking up that night.

My friend later searched the story online and found that it had indeed been turned into a movie, or at least referenced in popular media. This deepened the mystery: how could a widely known ghost story have been told to her by someone who had never heard it — someone who vehemently denied ever telling it?

To this day, my friend remains disturbed by this experience. She remembers it vividly. Her mother, however, insists it never happened.

The Informant’s Thoughts:

She finds this story creepy, not because of the ghost itself, but because of the contradiction between her clear memory and her mother’s absolute denial. She believes the most chilling part of the experience isn’t the plot, but the uncertainty of how she ever came to hear it.

Years later, when telling others the story of the girl with the red thread, people would say, “Oh, I’ve heard that one!” But she hadn’t. Not before that night. Not ever.

My Thoughts:

What makes this story so compelling is not just the content of the ghost story, but how it plays with memory, belief, and reality. The idea that a story could be “implanted” through a moment that no one else remembers adds an eerie, almost psychological horror element to the tale.

It made me question how many of our memories are truly our own — and how stories that seem personal might actually belong to something much larger, floating around in the cultural subconscious, waiting to find a host.

The repetition — her telling the story to others, retelling it to her mother, and hearing denials each time — builds a quiet but powerful kind of fear. Over time, the story’s scariness comes not from the ghost, but from the accumulated sense of being haunted by a memory no one else shares.

As a piece of folklore, it’s fascinating because it shows how legends can find their way into our lives, not just through media or hearsay, but through deeply personal and unexplainable experiences.

The Legend of Johnny Appleseed

Text: “I remember hearing stories about Johnny Appleseed when I was a kid, and people always talked about him like he was some kind of folk hero. I think the thing that stands out the most was how he was always described as this kind of wild, free spirit. He was a man on a mission, you know? He didn’t care much for stuff like owning land or having a lot of money—he just wandered around planting apple trees everywhere. They said he wore a pot on his head, too.
The real story, though, was about his apples. He planted apple orchards all across the Oregon trail to near Washington. And he didn’t charge people for the trees or anything. He just gave them away. I always heard he did it because he wanted people to have food and to be able to grow their own.
The way the story goes, though, it’s kind of like a legend. Some people say he could talk to animals, or that the trees he planted grew faster than normal. I don’t know how much of that’s true, but it’s definitely the kind of thing people love to exaggerate about a guy like Johnny.”

Context: This story was shared by the informant, who learned about Johnny Appleseed as a young child in school. The informant was not born in the United States, and hearing these stories was part of their introduction to American culture. As a child, the informant was fascinated by the figure of Johnny Appleseed, who was presented as a heroic figure in the classroom, a symbol of American frontier life. The informant recalls how Johnny Appleseed was portrayed as a wild, free spirit who traveled across the country planting apple trees, embodying selflessness and generosity. These stories, filled with admiration for Johnny Appleseed, shaped the informant’s early understanding of American folklore and culture.

Analysis: This story of Johnny Appleseed fits perfectly into the category of legend, blending real historical elements with exaggerations that elevate the figure to mythic status. The informant highlights the core aspects of the legend—Johnny’s wandering spirit, his selflessness in planting apple trees, and the generous nature of giving away those trees for free. These elements are characteristic of folklore heroes, who often represent ideals like community, altruism, and harmony with nature.

The details that are exaggerated—such as the ability to communicate with animals or the trees growing unnaturally fast—show how legends grow over time. Such embellishments serve to reinforce Johnny Appleseed’s larger-than-life status, making him a figure whose story transcends simple historical fact to become a symbol of something greater, such as the American frontier spirit.

In American folklore, figures like Johnny Appleseed represent the pioneering spirit, an idealized version of self-sufficiency and generosity. His legend embodies the ethos of the early frontier days, where individuals were seen as part of a larger effort to settle and cultivate the land. The informant’s story underscores how these legends are passed down, not just as historical accounts, but as narratives that shape cultural identity and values, focusing on ideals like giving, adventure, and the connection between humanity and the natural world.

Informant Info

Race/Ethnicity: White

Age: 63

Occupation: Talent Acquisition Manager

Residence: Oak Park, CA

Date of Performance: April 1, 2025

Primary Language: English

Other Language(s): Hungarian, German

Relationship: Parent

Folk Ritual: Funeral Custom – Saranta

  1. Text: It is custom in the culture of Greek people to practice an extended window of mourning after a loved one dies. This window lasts 40 days and is called Saranta. It is the belief of the Greek people that during this window of time, the soul continues to stay within the earth and navigate within it. It has not passed on to heaven, but remains wandering for a period of time in order to complete and review lingering tasks from its time in life. This concept has been colloquially believed in by Greek people for centuries. It is at the basis of their concept of mourning, becoming something almost as equally important as the very funeral service itself. By participating in a continued mourning during this time, the family becomes adjacent to the spirit of their loved one as it exists around them.
  2. Informants Context: The Saranta is very important in our culture. For 40 days after the death, we continue to mourn. This is because we believe that the spirit continues to walk the earth for 40 days after passing. After my husbands death, I wore black for 40 days. This was to recognize and signal my own mourning. For the first three days after the death, they say the spirit remains near where they lived. I believe this – I felt him around the house, I heard him around where his bed was. After that, its said that they begin to explore the world, go back to places where they used to spend lots of time. Maybe he went back to Greece for a few days, I don’t know. But then in the final few weeks, he has to be with God, or so they say. Then on the 40th day, he gets to be free. He goes to heaven. We do little things in that time so to watch over him as he wanders. Mirrors are covered during the 40 days, my grandmother used to say that souls get trapped in the glass if they go into it. During the funeral, we make sure a small window is open in case his spirit wants to leave, to wander. Other little things are part of the 40 days. For example, very little cleaning and no renovation to the house after the death so not to disturb the soul if it wants to visit. The most important thing is that we light the Kantili (oil lamp) everyday to assure that he is guided back to us when he wants to visit. If the candle burns, it will also in part assure that his spirit will be eternal. These rituals were passed down to us by our families when we used to still live in Greece. They showed us how to practice these things when there were deaths in the community. I was there during the second world war when I was very young, and then during the civil war. So even though I left at an early age, we attended many funerals before I officially departed from the country.
  3. Collectors Interpretation: Both the 40 day period and the superstitious rituals that occur during this period reflect certain distinct values on the part of the Greeks. Firstly, these superstitions clearly reflect a value for the concept of the eternal. Specifically as it applies to the burning light, Greeks want to assure that the spirit remains forever in existence despite bodily death. This is consistent with the superstitious fear of windows as well. Juxtaposing the hope for eternal paradise is the fear of eternal purgatory that could arise from getting trapped in these reflective surfaces. The Greek concept of 40 days of mourning clearly evolves into a folkloric concept in and of itself, as it is born out of and coupled with many of the superstitious concepts surrounding it.

Fields

AGE: 85

Date_of_performance: May 5, 2025

Informant Name: Confidential (EZ)

Language: Greek/English

Nationality: Greek/Canadian

Occupation: Retired

Primary Language: Greek

Residence: Canada

The Origin of Ganesh

Nationality: American
Age: 32
Occupation: Unemployed
Residence: San Francisco, CA
Language: English

Text:

“As a child, my mother taught me that Ganesh has the head of an elephant because of a story involving his parents, Shiva and Parvathi. One day, when Ganesh was guarding the bath area to protect his mother, Parvathi, he saw Lord Shiva approaching and tried to stop him. Not recognizing Ganesh, Shiva became angry and chopped off his head. When Parvathi saw what had happened, she begged Shiva to save their son. To bring Ganesh back to life, Shiva said the only way was to replace his head with that of the first living creature he came across, which in this case was an elephant. And that is why Ganesh has the head of an elephant.”

Context:

This myth was shared by the informant, P, during a conversation about Hindu stories she heard during childhood. P first heard this myth from her mother, who used it to explain the origin of Ganesh and his unique image. To P, this myth is more than just a story; it is an explanation of Ganesh’s divine role as a protector.

Analysis:

This is a myth because it explains the origins of a sacred figure, Ganesh, using symbolic storytelling to express deep religious beliefs. The story involves gods, supernatural events, and moral values like sacrifice and protection. The elephant head serves both a literal and symbolic purpose, representing wisdom and strength. This myth helps explain not only Ganesh’s physical form but also his cultural role as the remover of obstacles and protector of beginnings.

Text:

In a discussion about family health practices, a classmate shared a folk remedy rooted in his heritage. When a family member falls ill, his father employs a traditional healing method. This involves igniting a tissue, placing it on a glass, and then setting the glass on the stomach of the sick person. The belief is that the burning tissue creates a vacuum within the glass, which then draws out the infection from the individual’s body.

Context:

My classmate explained that this practice of using fire and a glass to cure ailments is an ancestral folk medicine technique passed down through generations in his family. They believe that the heat and resulting suction specifically target the sickness, effectively extracting it from within. He recalled this method being applied various times throughout his childhood, particularly for stomach-related issues. The ritual, though medically unverified, is deeply embedded in the familial tradition, and it’s a vivid representation of the intimate trust they place in their heritage and the natural methods of healing.

Analysis:

This folk remedy mirrors the principles of sympathetic magic, specifically of the contagious variety, as outlined by James George Frazer. Just as Frazer described how objects associated with a person, such as a lock of hair, could be used to influence their well-being, so does the use of a glass on the body in this practice suggests a transfer or extraction of ailment. While to the outsider it may seem a quaint or even irrational act, to those practicing, it’s a manifestation of a deep-seated belief in the tangible interaction between physical objects and one’s health. Furthermore, Hafstein’s notion of collective tradition plays a role here, emphasizing the importance of community and shared practices in the development of folk remedies. Rather than deriving from a single innovator, this practice is likely the result of communal beliefs and the collective wisdom of the family, passed down and adapted over time. It represents a lineage of knowledge and a tangible connection to their ancestors, imbuing the act with personal, cultural, and historical significance beyond mere “entertainment value” or rudimentary medical intervention. This traditional method, while not scientifically substantiated, offers a unique lens through which we can examine the interplay of belief, culture, and the human need to find solace in the face of illness.