Home, Sweet Home
My backpack is as heavy as an anchor, the straps are digging into my tired shoulders. As I walk in the door my backpack somehow feels as light as a feather. I drop my backpack on the cold hardwood floor as the smell of pumpkin spice candles overwhelm me with a sweet-smelling aroma. This is what home means to me.
If you ask me what home means to me then I will surely answer your question. Home is the place of late night studying and dinner table debates. The place where you cry, smile, laugh and make memories that will last forever. Home is the place that welcomes you in, begging you to stay. Home is a family, and family makes a home. I hope everyone can relate to these feelings at home.
Surely, I feel so thankful that my family is so supportive and loving. In my happy home there’s my Dad, Mom, Me and my 3 sisters. My parents work extremely hard to keep our family in a safe, warm and cozy home. My Mother works 12 hour shifts at the ICU unit in the hospital, she takes care of the young and old, poor and rich and treats everyone with kindness and happiness.
There is no question that I hope that everybody has a home to experience these feelings but that’s sadly not true, I believe that every family deserves a home where they feel safe. Probably every homeless person was once like you or me, so talk to them! Too many people walk by like they’re not even there, I’m sick of it. It’s only a few minutes of your time that can change their lives.
To conclude, we have work to do as a country to end homelessness, we all need to do our part to end this growing problem in our country. So do your part and the world will be a better place because of it. Maybe one day when the snow falls everyone can be safe and happy in a home. Maybe one day.