Name Day or Namnsdag

(A Day of Celebration by Fanny Brate Nationalmuseum in Sweden) 

I often wondered if a sampler’s name might carry the quiet echo of a birth date. The saint’s feast embedded in thread? When we think of samplers we often gravitate to the name and date first, as it is so important for preserving history.

In 19th-century Sweden, a child’s name often echoed the saint’s day of her birth. Thus, the embroidered name itself could conceal a date, her name day stitched into linen, a hidden birthday in the language of saints. There are so few samplers with exact birthdates to actually test this theory. None the less lets dive into the Namnsdag celebrations!

Christian roots

The tradition of name days largely grew out of the Christian calendar of saints: each day of the year was associated with one or more saints or martyrs, and those baptized with the saint’s name would observe the saint’s feast day as their “name day.”
For example, in early traditions the church encouraged celebrating the patron saint’s day rather than the person’s birthday (which sometimes was considered more secular or even pagan) particularly in Catholic and Orthodox contexts.

Over time many countries adopted calendars listing names (not always strictly saints) and associated a given name with a date. In Scandinavian countries like Sweden and Finland, the practice evolved further: the original religious associations faded somewhat, and the Namnsdag calendar was adapted to include common secular names.

In Eastern Europe (e.g., Greece, Bulgaria, Czech Republic, Slovakia) the tradition remains quite strong, with name days often celebrated as importantly as (or more than) birthdays.

In Sweden the historical evolution is well documented. The practice’s roots go back to the church’s calendar of saints, but name-days began being observed with some regularity from the 17th century among aristocracy and later common people. In 1901 a major revision of the Swedish name-day calendar was made to reflect names in common use. The official calendar monopoly ended in 1972, and afterwards multiple competing name-day lists emerged; eventually in 2001 a new two-name-per-day list was accepted for general use.

Early Christian and Medieval Origins

In the early Church (roughly 4th–10th centuries), baptism was a profoundly symbolic act — it marked spiritual rebirth, and the name chosen for the child carried a sacred association.

The church encouraged naming after saints, martyrs, or biblical figures as a way to give the child a heavenly patron and moral model.

In many regions, if a child was born or baptized on a saint’s feast day, parents would choose that saint’s name — meaning the child’s birthday (or baptism day) and name day were identical.

This practice was seen as placing the child under the protection of that saint, and ensured the feast would be celebrated in their honor every year.

For example, a girl born on March 25 (Marian feast) might be named Maria or Annunciation-related names. A boy born on December 6 might be named Nikolas (St Nicholas’ Day).

In Orthodox Greece or Russia, this convention became deeply embedded; parish records often show baptismal names matching the local saint’s day.

The picture shows two pages from a Swedish almanac from 1712. In the top left corner is the word "Februarius". At the bottom of the right page, the 30th day of that month is mentioned.
The two words to the right of the number "30" are: "Tillökad", that is, "added" and "Snöö", that is, "snow". It was customary to include weather forecasts for the entire year in almanacs.
The rest of the dates are the Swedish name day names. To the right of February 14 it says Valentin, Swedish for Saint Valentine.

Renaissance to 18th Century Europe

By the 16th–18th centuries, this custom persisted in many Catholic and Orthodox countries but began to shift in Protestant regions:

Catholic & Orthodox lands (France, Spain, Italy, Greece, Poland, Russia):

Still common to name children for the saint of their birth or baptism day. Parish priests often suggested the name of the day’s saint if parents had not chosen one.

Protestant countries (England, Scandinavia, parts of Germany)

After the Reformation, naming became less tied to the liturgical calendar and more influenced by family heritage or fashion. Yet traces of the old custom lingered — for example, some Swedish 17th-century records show children named after the saint on whose day they were baptized, even though Lutheranism officially downplayed saint veneration.

8th–19th Century Scandinavia and Folk Use

(Karindagen by Carl Larsson) 

In Sweden and Finland, where namnsdagar later became secularized, the connection between birth date and saint’s name still had echoes:

Before the 1901 reform of the Swedish name-day calendar, many traditional names were those of old saints, so the pairing of birthday and name day often coincided when children were given the saint-of-the-day’s name.

Over time, the connection weakened, and by the 19th century the name-day list served more as a commemorative calendar than a naming guide.

However, folk calendars (like Bondepraktikan or regional almanacs) often annotated both saints’ days and local feast days, and parents might still feel a sentimental link between a child’s birth date and its patron saint’s day.

Why this Mattered Spiritually

For centuries, having your name day and birthday coincide was thought to be especially blessed.
It meant your earthly birth and spiritual guardianship were united. The saint whose day you shared would intercede for you throughout life.

It gave your birthday a sacred legitimacy, which, in medieval thought, countered pagan birthday observances.

How this relates to samplers you wonder?

I suspected, many children, especially in Catholic or Lutheran regions with strong saint calendars were given the name of the saint whose feast day fell on or near their birth or baptism.
That means that a girl named Anna, Maria, Lucia, Catherine, Elizabeth, or Margareta might literally bear the name of the day she entered the world (or was baptized).

So, if a sampler bears, for example, “Anna Sophia 1824”, and the year fits within a culture still aware of name days, then Anna could have been born near July 26 (St Anne’s Day) or her parents may simply have chosen the name because she was born close to that feast. The research on this would be enormous.

How this could appear in samplers

Samplers were, after all, records of identity. A child’s name stitched in thread was both a statement of the self (I, Anna, made this work) and a commemoration (marking life events like birth, education, or faith).
If her given name was chosen because of the saint’s day of her birth, then the stitched name becomes a veiled calendar mark, almost like saying “born under the protection of St Anne” without writing the date. I often wondered if this was the case in some of the samplers I have come across.
In some Continental or Scandinavian examples you even find feast-day references (e.g., “Lucia D. XIII Decembris” or decorative candles and stars around the name Lucia, hinting at St Lucy’s Day).

(Grandfather's name day  by Hungarian artist Mihály Munkácsy)

The regional likelihood this could be a possibility.....

Sweden / Finland:  highly plausible. The church and almanac both kept saint calendars; (see above) name-day and baptismal customs overlapped well into the 1800s.

England / America: less so after the Reformation, but still possible in Catholic or Anglican families who favored saints’ names and retained awareness of feast days.

Germany / Netherlands: quite possible, especially in Lutheran or Catholic provinces where saint calendars stayed familiar.

Let me know what you think? Is it possible?

hugs, 

Birgit