Like a sun-warmed camino curling past Spanish vineyards, Vianna moves through time with the quiet rustle of silk, her name woven from two Latin threads—via, the road that beckons wanderers forward, and Anna, the timeless signifier of grace—so that every syllable (vee-AHN-uh) sings of “grace upon the journey.” In Portugal and Galicia she is also linked to the coastal town of Viana do Castelo, where sea breezes carry the scent of salted grapes, and thus she gathers an added meaning of “vineyard,” ripe with the promise of abundance. Across a century of American records she has flickered like a steadfast star, never blindingly common yet never quite fading, suggesting a spirit who prizes individuality over spectacle. Parents who choose Vianna often speak of roads they have traveled, wines they have tasted beneath ochre sunsets, or grandmothers named Anna whose legacy they wish to lace with something fresh and lilting. In stories yet unwritten, Vianna is the heroine whose laughter echoes down cobblestone lanes, whose compass points toward hope, and whose very name invites a child to step onto life’s wide boulevard with grace in her pocket and adventure in her eyes.