What My Grandson Taught Me about Presence: A Grandparent’s Reflection
Category: Faith
When my five-year-old grandson came to spend a day with me recently, I had special plans. You know the kind—special Nana outings that make his normal day a fun one to remember. I pictured us hiking a trail in the nearby state park, or playing in the sand at the playground. I told his mom to be sure to send him good walking shoes that day.
But as we were finishing a nutritious breakfast and his favorite Shaklee vitamins, I casually asked him, “Would you like to go to the park or maybe on a hike today?”
He didn’t even hesitate.
“No, Nana,” he said while cocking his black, curly-topped head. “I just want to stay here at your house with you and play here.”
That simple sentence melted my heart. I paused, a little surprised—but instantly aware that this moment held something far more valuable than any outing we could go on. This reminded me of what I learned one time when teaching preschoolers for Children’s Church. God often uses little ones to teach us.
When our grandkids don’t get to see us all the time, what they often long for isn’t a flashy outing or a big adventure. It’s us. Our presence. Our home. The environment that feels safe and familiar to them—where memories have already been made.
To him, joy looked like chasing me in the basement while pushing his truck, riding his dump truck down the backyard berm, walking out to get the mail, and lying in bed together reading books before nap time. Those are the experiences that float his little boat.
And honestly? They fill my heart, too.
As adults, we sometimes assume that love is communicated by planning, preparing, and going the extra mile. But our children and grandchildren often remind us that love is simpler than we make it. It’s sitting together. Laughing. Doing life side by side. Just being.
There’s nothing wrong with special outings—they’re wonderful! But that day, my grandson reminded me that what matters most isn’t where we go, but who we’re with. It’s the relationship that makes a moment meaningful.
That reminds me of God desiring a relationship with us, more than sacrifices or rituals. He wants our hearts (Psalm 50:14), just like my grandson wanted that time together with his Nana: a relationship!
Next time I start brainstorming “fun things to do” when my grandson visits, I’m going to pause and remember: The best thing I can offer is not an experience, but myself—in a space where he feels known, loved, and at home where his Nana lives.
And that, my friends, is a gift we can all give: the gift of relationship.

