What is My Home?

At 3 years old, my parents got divorced. My Dad had to drive out to Bonavista, and I thought I would never see him again. Then, my Dad’s friend was gone on a trip and heard his story, so his friend let us stay for a week at his house. My Dad only had a small house in Bonavista. The basement was dirty, and I was not allowed in it. My Dad tried to spoil me to make me happy. He would buy all my favourite LOL dolls and every plush I wanted, but I wasn't happy. I just wanted my Mom and Dad to be with each other again. After a week, we got kicked out of the house, so my Dad dropped me off at my mom's house and drove away to Bonavista. I never got to talk or see my Dad for 4 weeks. I didn't know what home was mine. Before I went to sleep that night, I asked my Mom, “What home was my home?” When I turned older, I was old enough to go out to Bonavista and see my Dad. He would drive me out there, and when we got there, he would drive me to his house. My Dad met a new girl, and she had 2 children. They were my bonus sisters. I met them at their house at Tremblett’s Hill. I didn't really talk to them. I was shy. That night I thought about the home thing again. I realized that I didn't just have one home, I had 3! I had many homes! I learned that a home wasn't just a safe and cozy place. It was family. I had so many families, and they were at 3 different houses! Thank you, Habitat for Humanity, for understanding my story.