Marta Martinez stands at home next to “her altar,” where she has put pictures and other memorabilia to honor the dead.

The Providence Journal / Glenn Osmundson

WARWICK — Small pumpkins line the stairs of a Pawtuxet Village home, the first of many signs that the family that lives inside takes Halloween seriously.

Several black-clad witches hang from the rafters of the front porch and a bat dangles from a tree in the front yard. A large jack-o’-lantern is perched in a nearby branch.

But the three cardboard skeletons stuck to the glass of the front door come closest to revealing the holiday that actually means the most to the inhabitants: Days of the Dead, “Los Dias de los Muertos,” an ancient tradition from Mexico that is celebrated Nov. 1 and 2.

Families commemorate loved ones who have died by building altars to their memories. They light candles in front of photographs of departed relatives and friends, and in the evening, place morsels of favorite foods before the pictures. Families sit together and share happy stories of long-gone grandparents, aunts, uncles and siblings.

Normally morbid images, such as skulls and skeletons, are turned fanciful, painted in vivid colors or transformed into candies and toys for children.

“It is my favorite holiday, even though it only lasts two days,” said Marta Martinez, who first observed the ritual in Zacatecas, Mexico, where she was born, and later as a girl growing up in El Paso, Texas. Martinez continued the tradition when she moved here to attend Providence College and now shares it with her husband, J. Patrick Youngs, an assistant attorney general, and their three sons, Jose, 18, Miguel, 15 and Pablo, 14.

“For me, it’s a way to reconnect with my relatives,” Martinez said. “While I put out their pictures, I’m connecting with them, and my kids are learning about them. I’m bringing them back to life.”

Pablo Youngs said if it weren’t for the Days of the Dead, he would know little about his paternal grandfather, who died before he was born. But every Nov. 1, his father shares stories of the Maine man Pablo never knew.

“I never met half of the relatives, but I like all the stories,” Pablo said. “It makes me feel like I know them.”

Each year on Oct. 31, Martinez descends into her basement for a cardboard box where she keeps her Days of the Dead decorations.

She clears a table in her front hall and sets out more than a dozen photographs: her in-laws, Mary and Joe Youngs, and her sister-in-law, Marie Youngs-Vogel. Martinez’s grandparents, Abigail and Miguel Arellano, died in the 1970s.

This year, a small campaign pin, bearing just one word –– “Pell” –– graces the table. A longtime Rhode Island senator, Claiborne Pell died in January, and Martinez, former director of the Hispanic nonprofit agency CHisPA and now a Hispanic outreach specialist for the U.S. Census Bureau, met the late senator several times.

“I include people who have meant something to me,” she said. A plastic doll of Elvis sits in one corner, a request from one of her sons who is a huge Elvis fan, she says. On the right hand side of the table is a photograph of Alipio Ocampo Umiten, a former janitor at St. Peter’s School, in Warwick, where Martinez’s boys attended.

“He became close to the family and served as Jose’s confirmation sponsor,” Martinez said. “He died 15 months ago.”

Martinez places candles in front of the photos and lights them at night. She bakes Pan de Muertos, a special sweet bread, and places small pieces before each photo along with a cup of coffee.

When her sons were younger, Martinez always asked them to dig through their Halloween loot for a Butterfinger candy bar — her grandmother’s favorite — to place on the table as an offering.

The Aztecs and other Mesoamerican people revered the dead and held celebrations once a year to honor them and bring their spirits back to their living kin. When the Spanish colonized the region, they moved the festival to coincide with All Saints and All Souls Days on the Roman Catholic calendar. Today, Day or Days of the Dead celebrations are held in several countries, including Brazil, Ecuador, Guatemala and the Philippines.

Many Mexican families also visit their departed relatives in cemeteries, an option not open to Martinez. Instead, Martinez said she would try to visit the grave of a close friend buried in Swan Point Cemetery, in Providence.

She also plans to toss yellow and orange marigold petals on the steps leading to her front door, a signal to the departed that their spirits are welcome in her home.

On Tuesday, Martinez will pack it all away until next year.

“I want to show my kids that death is not frightening; it’s part of life,” Martinez said. “We share happy memories about our deceased relatives, never sad ones, and it’s like being reunited with them. Their memory is always with you, so in that way, they’ll always be alive.”

jjordan@projo.com