I grew up in the country in Eastern Europe, in a village in the mountains. On the last day of October every year, we would hold what you'd probably call a spiritistic seance, calling on the wandering ghosts who didn't manage to cross to The Other Side. We would leave food and drink for the spirits and we'd light a fire to help them find a way back home where they could spend a night among their family.

I never took part in those ceremonies. They were exclusively for older people and sometimes beggars, too, those who were "halfway to the other side already." My Grandma used to tell me about one ghost who appeared for two ceremonies before her death. It was a ghost of a young man who commited suicide.

Our elders used to think of ghosts differently than we do nowadays. They weren't monsters to be scared of. They were spirits of our loved ones who needed our help to find peace and we gladly helped them.

It's sad that we've come to fear the ghosts of our own family. It's a beautiful tradition you described, trying to help the spirits move on istead of scaring them away.

Did the ghost of the young man finally find peace?

When I visited my Grandpa last year, he said that spirit was still wandering and it will probably never find peace, because taking your own life is destroying the gift of Nature and that's unforgivable.

Actually most cultures worshiped the dead. The fear of ghosts is a modern invention that started around the 19th century, right around the time horror literature was becoming increasingly popular.

I wonder about an after life when committing suicide. People are only human, and some can handle life grievances better than others. There is such thing as a breaking point that some humans just can't handle. It doesn't seem fair they "get stuck". Now, someone who commits suicide purely for evil or spiteful reasons I can see this happening. I sure wish I knew that my father made it to the other side and found peace.

I have yet to see a ghost myself but I have felt the presence before even though it is a little hard to explain to others. Not all are able to cross over due to many circumstances, this is what happened with my mother (and the last to visit me).