Trees for the Babies We Lost: Inside a German Memory Forest

Friends, Anna-Maria Böswald is the founder of SternenEltern Schwaben e. V. (“Star Parents of Swabia,” a registered nonprofit) and the driving force behind the Memory Forest for Star Children. In Germany, “Sternenkinder,” or star children, is the tender word for babies who die before, during, or shortly after birth. Anna-Maria started the organization many years ago. She also created the Memory Forest because she and her husband needed a place where their twins, who both died after birth, could have a visible spot. Right here among us. Because they belong.

Anna-Maria, will you tell us about your twins?

My husband and I had always wanted a big family, but getting pregnant was very hard for me. After many years, a miscarriage, and finally IVF, I was able to get pregnant with twins. It was clear early on that the babies were sitting very low and that the pregnancy would be difficult. From week 11 on, I had to stay lying down, but we stayed hopeful.

On Father's Day, completely out of the blue, my water broke. I was rushed to the hospital, and shortly afterward it was clear that our twins were going to arrive much too early. In a C-section, Joan Constantin and Arian Leonard were born. They were too small to survive, but they lived. Both of them cried, kicked, and breathed. We were able to have them baptized and spend a few hours with them.

Those hours were the most precious gift they could have given us. When it was time to say goodbye, they each squeezed my finger, ever so gently, as if to say: Mom, it's all right.
And then they passed away in my arms.

What did that loss mean for you?

Losing our children was one thing, but the other experiences we went through back then were almost as traumatic. Nobody explained anything. We got no information, no chance to make memories, and no psychological support, not even for our four-year-old son, though we asked for it.

In the end, we did what everyone told us to do, including the hospital chaplain, because we were completely overwhelmed: we didn't let our son see his brothers, even though he desperately wanted to. Today I know how wrong that was, and that experiences exactly like this can break families even further.

How did you come up with the idea for a memory forest?

Out of that pain came the wish to make things better for other families. So we founded SternenEltern Schwaben e. V., an association that offers immediate support to families. Around that time, almost like a small miracle, our first joint project with the county came about: the Memory Forest for Star Children.

We were thinking about what we could do for affected families when my husband suddenly said:
“You know what I miss most? Two things. First, that our children don't show up anywhere. To everyone else, they're invisible, as if they never existed. And second, that I never get to watch them grow. No development, no changes, nothing.” Then he said: “I think it would help me to have both of those things in a symbolic way: a tree I can watch grow. A tree that carries our children's names, visible to everyone. So they can finally be seen.”

That idea is exactly how the Memory Forest began. We wanted to create something that is allowed to grow symbolically, the way our love for our children keeps growing. Something you can tend, care for, and watch get bigger. Before long, the first plot the county gave us was completely planted: 148 little star trees standing for more than 150 children, each one made visible by a tree that grows, blooms, and lives on.

Since then, we've watched the trees change and get taller. Some now stand “on their own,” without a support stake. It really does feel like accompanying them as they grow. The Memory Forest has become a place where people meet, including people who have never lost a baby themselves. They come, they look, they listen, and they're moved. That was exactly what we wished for: that these children would be seen and belong.

Are you in direct contact with the families? What do you hear from them?

Yes, and it's very different from family to family. Everyone walks their own path with this. Some simply pick out their tree, choose the variety and the design of the sign, and that's exactly right for them. They know: There's a tree growing for my child now, and for the moment, their heart doesn't need more than that.

Others deliberately look for conversation, sometimes just a short one, sometimes in long, very intense phone calls or in-person meetings, including right at the plantings. A lot comes up in those moments, and you can tell that talking it through gets something moving for many people.

What stands out most is that mothers whose children died many decades ago, sometimes 30, 40, or even 50 years ago, have an incredible need to talk. Many of them were never allowed to speak about their children back then. Nobody explained anything, there were no keepsakes, no chance to say goodbye. Some didn't even know where their child was buried. Often the babies were quietly buried along with another person's casket, with no name and no trace.

And then I hear the same sentences again and again from these moms, things people commonly said to them back then that they've carried with them ever since: “If God had wanted you to be a mother, your child would have stayed.” Many of these women stayed silent their whole lives, out of shame and pain, because it “wasn't supposed to happen.” The men didn't talk about it either. They had to be “strong,” after all. But of course they suffered too.

For me, the encounters with these older families are the most emotional of all. You watch someone, after so many decades, stand in front of a small sapling, a tree that looks like any other from the outside except for a name sign, and suddenly drop to their knees, cry, and say only “Thank you” …
That's when you know what this place means.

It's as if a piece of life that was invisible for so long finally gets a place again. For many, it's the first time their child is truly “seen,” the first time their child has a name, a place, and meaning in the world, right here among us. These moments never let go of me. They're sad and healing at the same time. And they show how important it is that places like this exist.

How does it work in practice? How and where can families reach you?

Families can find all the information on our website. It describes each location of our Memory Forest, and each one has its own requirements, because we always work with different partners, like counties or local municipalities. It's important to us to guarantee the highest quality at every location while keeping the land natural and untouched.

The website also has the forms to request a star tree. For many families that's enough. Others want more personal contact, and of course that's possible anytime. They can simply email us, and we'll walk them through it step by step. Together we find the right tree (as a rule, each variety is planted only once, because every child is unique) and design the individual sign.

We put a lot of care into the details of the signs, because they represent the child to the outside world. They should really fit. Families can design the sign themselves, in A5 size (about 5.8 by 8.3 inches) and landscape format, or leave the design to us, whatever feels right to them. In the end, you have a tree that doesn't just grow but also gives the family a visible, loving place to remember.

What will it cost families?

Our goal is that no one is kept from remembering their child because of money. That's why we try to keep costs as low as possible through donations, grants, and the support of our partners. Right now, we're actually able to give the little trees away completely free of charge, and that's a true labor of love for us. We very much hope we can keep that going in the future, so that every family, no matter their situation, can have a place for their child.

How has the Memory Forest developed over time?

Over time, the Memory Forest has become something we never expected in this form at the start. Today it's far more than a place of remembrance. It has become a kind of self-help. Parents connect there quite naturally, meet among the trees, start talking, swap experiences, or simply enjoy the quiet together.

And that's not all: the Memory Forest has also become a real draw for visitors. No matter when you come, there are always people there. Some walk quietly along the rows, read the names, and pause for a moment. I've heard people say: “You have to be thankful every day that this didn't happen to you.” Others ask questions, want to understand, and listen.

This openness and attention is exactly the kind of awareness we hoped for: that people are willing, on their own, to engage with our children. That our children are seen, visited, and recognized as part of our community. For me, that's the most beautiful part of how this has grown.

What kind of feedback do you get?

The feedback is incredibly varied, as individual as the families themselves. Many tell us this place is exactly what they would have needed. For some, the Memory Forest is a place they want to be regularly. A few come several times a week to “their” tree, post photos on social media, or tell the tree what has changed in their lives lately. Others come only on certain occasions, like birthdays and anniversaries of their child's death, or simply whenever their heart pulls them there. And some families never visit at all. It's enough for them to know that their child gets to grow there symbolically and is visible.

Some families hold real family gatherings there, with a picnic blanket, games, and siblings, out in the green under “their” little tree. Many just sit there and soak up the calm and the nature. Because the plots are deliberately left natural, there's a special atmosphere, with wildflowers, tall grass, buzzing insects, and all kinds of birds. At certain times of day, you can even spot deer, hares, and other wildlife.

Some families also harvest the fruit from their trees. Some see it as a gift from their child, and others lovingly call it the “fruits of love.” That's how the Memory Forest becomes a place where life, remembrance, and nature blend together in a beautiful way. Friendships have also grown there over time.

Parents run into each other on a walk, start talking, and open up, quite naturally, without any group pressure or the feel of a traditional support group. That's the beauty of it: everyone can take in the place in their own way. And what makes us especially happy is that the Memory Forest is alive. It's not only a place of grief, but also one full of life, connection, and togetherness. We never could have imagined that at the beginning.

What does this place mean to you?

For me, the Memory Forest is a very special place, a place of strength. Not only because the trees for our own children get to grow there, which keeps them right here among us. It also touches me that they're never alone there, surrounded by so many other children and so many stories.

But this place matters so much to me for another reason, too: it has become a source of strength for many families. Everyone is free to find something of their own there, whether that's comfort, quiet, connection, or simply a bit of peace. I'm incredibly grateful that so many people find exactly what they need in this place. To me, that's the wonderful part.

What are your plans for what's next?

After the first Memory Forest was completely planted in a short time and the waiting list kept getting longer, we knew we had to keep looking. It hurt to turn families away, because behind every request is a story, a child, a love.

So we're all the more grateful that we've since been able to open two more locations, both in Neu-Ulm County: a large, beautiful Memory Forest in Biberach near Roggenburg, in partnership with the county, and a second one in Unterroth, right on a picturesque lake, where about 20 little trees are still waiting to grow big and strong for a child.

And things keep moving: contracts for two new locations are already signed, one in the Upper Palatinate and one in Lower Bavaria (two regions of Bavaria). It's incredibly beautiful to see that more and more regions are ready to let places like this come into being, places where children are allowed to be seen and families find a spot to remember.

Our biggest wish, of course, would be to eventually offer this kind of place across the whole country. That will surely be a long road, but we're hopeful and curious to see what the future brings.

What kind of help do you need?

Right now, our biggest challenge is simply getting to the families, reaching them and showing them that this option exists. Many don't know about the Memory Forest at all, and that's such a shame, because this place can mean so much.

Especially in rural areas, particularly here in Bavaria, it's still hard for many people to talk openly about losing a child. Many families suffer in silence, because society often still expects you to “function” and not talk about it. So some don't dare to accept help like this. And that's exactly what matters so much: daring to open up.

We want to say to everyone: Reach out. Everything you share with us stays confidential, of course. The sign doesn't even have to carry a name. A symbol, a saying, or a picture is completely fine, whatever feels right to the family.

Of course, we also need financial support to keep this going long term. But hands-on help at the site is just as valuable. If you stop by and take a few photos, for us or for the families, or help keep the place clean, pick up trash, or even just mow the grass around the seating areas, you're making a big contribution. Every small gesture helps keep this special place alive.

What does a memory forest do for the community around it?

It also creates an incredible amount of awareness in the community. Visitors, walkers, and bike riders regularly stop by, stand still, read the signs, and talk about the children. That's exactly what we hoped for: that these children can be, and stay, right in the middle of us.