My Imperfect Home

To me, my home is my house, with my family and friends. A home can be a lot of diverse places: an apartment, a car, and even some blankets. But not everyone has those things. A lot of people can’t afford a house or find a family. So they’re left without a home or people to share it with. Knowing that, makes me feel lucky and I appreciate all that I have. But how did I get to be so fortunate? It’s imperfect, but I have such an amazing home because of my mom. My mom: who works incredibly hard every day in order to provide for me and my brother. She doesn't have anyone else to contribute, so she does it all on her own. Though my dad’s side of the family is from Vietnam, I know that’s not my place. My mother is so strong for me, so I have to be strong for her. I swear to give her the best life once I grow up. In my house, there’s food, shelter, running water, bedrooms and bathrooms. But in my home, is my mother, my brother, my cats and dog, and the love we all share. Love is valuable, a bond to be treasured. I feel it the most in the little moments. Such as, when we all sit down in the living room to watch a funny show and eat ice cream before bed. Or when me and my brother stay up a bit too late, and we end up laughing so hard at jokes that don't even make sense. Laughing until our stomachs ache. To me, my home is a safe place. A place to be me and a place where I feel belonging. Even though it’s not perfect, I wouldn’t change it one bit!