When granddaughter comes to town

Published 12:06 pm Saturday, January 10, 2026

Recalling granddaughter Savannah’s forays to the glass dish holding chocolates in our living room, my wife took precautions prior to the four-year-old’s holiday season stay with us in Meridian.

When the high-energy little one arrived, beginning her surveillance of our aging house, she quickly made her way to the same little dish, now finding it empty. Cece (grandma name) offered the observation that “Santa must have cleaned it out when he was here. Somebody needs to write and let him know he should only take one piece.”

Savannah pondered this, briefly, mildly disappointed about the missing chocolate stash. Then she moved on, busy getting acquainted with our dog and two cats, exploring the hilly yard and garage/cottage, asking questions about other potential treats at the house.

There were tree ornaments to investigate and whirl around, classic movies to watch, pictures to draw and then add to a refrigerator-door collection.

Thanks to busy work schedules of her parents in New Orleans, Savannah was back with us for several days, changing everything.

It was the best gift of all for Cece and Cbowl (my grandpa name). Cece brought relevant experience to this mission as a retired pre-school teacher. I was mostly a helper, enjoying this little tropical storm.

Savannah is a full package, curious, quick-moving, chatty, strong-willed. She is also tender in many ways, hugging and rubbing noses with our rescue pup Eudora (Savannah insists on calling her Adora), and telling me to not climb trees because I might fall out. She picks camellias from the front yard to give to Cece and, later, to her mom.

One evening a tiny ladybug appeared in the kitchen. Savannah picked up the creature and was thrilled when it meandered up her arm.

Then she strolled to the living room, opened the front door, and gently returned the ladybug to the chilly wild.

“She needed to go back and be with her family again,” Savannah announced.

Among various outings, Cece took Savannah downtown, to the Children’s Museum, for an “ice skating” event that had children using socks instead of skates; and they took in a children’s movie out at the mall cinema.

Spending time around Savannah, for me, brought a flashback. Back in the ‘60s, my parents and those of our cousins occasionally drove us to Cleveland, in the Delta, to spend a week or so with our grandparents. We played in my grandfather’s garden, explored their guest house, performed little plays, laughed plenty. Those visits created fine memories.

The setting in Meridian is different, but I hope Savannah’s lasting sentiments about time spent here will be the same.

Our cottage, sitting on a backyard rise, is always a big attraction for her, serving as a playhouse and art work space.

Cece added a feature for her this season: a showing of the “Cinderella” movie on our back porch, using a projector and sheet-like screen. Hot chocolate was an added touch.

Savannah’s last full “Meridian day” saw us taking her to the vast Bonita Lakes park, joined by Eudora on a leash. There, Savannah climbed around playground structures, then—on her scooter—led us across the lake dam and far up a trail rimmed by thick woods. She covered miles and never seemed to tire. At every ant pile, she paused to warn us.

One gentleman walking by smiled at the look of our mini-adventure. He has multiple grandchildren, one of them about Savannah’s age.

“That’s why they’re called grandchildren—they are grand,” he said. “They’re like little pieces of your heart out there running around.” Amen to that.

Coleman Warner is a journalist and cultural historian, and can be contacted at legacypress.warner@gmail.com.