A Day for Quiet Thanks: Reflecting on Parents’ Day in Korea

In Korea, May is often called the “Month of Family.” Tucked among the lilacs and soft warmth of spring are days that honour relationships—Children’s Day on the 5th, Parents’ Day on the 8th, and even Teachers’ Day a week later. Each offers a moment to pause and appreciate, but Parents’ Day in particular invites something quieter: a bow of the head, a handful of carnations, a few simple words.

While Mother’s Day and Father’s Day are celebrated separately in much of the world, Korea folds them into one. The symbolism feels deeply cultural—less about roles, more about reverence. It’s not a commercial spectacle. You won’t find balloon arches or massive brunch campaigns. Instead, you’ll see carnations delicately pinned to lapels, students lining up to buy small bouquets, and children composing handwritten letters at their desks.

For many, this isn’t just about biological parents. It’s a day to thank those who nurtured us—teachers, grandparents, mentors, or guardians. Anyone who offered protection or guidance in ways that shaped who we are.

The gesture doesn’t need to be grand. In fact, it shouldn’t be. A soft note. A shared meal. A moment of presence. Some now choose to pair their words with something tangible—a handwritten card, perhaps, crafted with care. You’ll find a few of our own interpretations quietly waiting in the shop.

Because while a holiday like this may not appear on most international calendars, it carries a kind of grace. The kind that reminds us to say the things we often think but rarely voice:

Thank you. For showing up. For staying. For making things feel safe when the world wasn’t.