Arneshia drifts onto the tongue like a summer breeze rolling over a campo de girasoles, her syllables—ar-NEE-shuh—rising and falling with the lazy grace of a guitar serenade beneath a Spanish moon; though born as a modern American creation, she seems to carry twin roots, one in the Latin “arna,” evoking a sheltered valley, and the other in “nisha,” the Sanskrit whisper for “night,” so that her meaning hovers between night’s velvet hush and the cradle of dawn that cradles it. Stories gathered from southern porches to city stoops tell of girls named Arneshia who move through life like warm amber light, weaving community with an intuitive kindness that mirrors the gentle persistence of jasmine vines along an adobe wall. In the United States she danced quietly across birth records from the mid-1980s to the new millennium—never common, always memorable—appearing just often enough to suggest a hidden constellation known only to sky-watchers with patient hearts. For parents today, Arneshia offers more than a melodious curve of letters; she promises the blended blessing of darkness and first light, a name that holds space for both dreaming and dawning.