A story about home

When I think of home I remember a moment from when I was young. I was in the car with my dad on the way home from the grocery store. I saw a homeless person and I asked my dad what he was doing and he explained to me it was not his choice to be there. At that point I was intrigued because I thought everybody had a home. We arrived at home so while my dad put away the groceries I asked my mom. She said that I wouldn't understand. Now that I know that not everybody has a home I feel bad for the guy I saw and all the other homeless people. I have tried to help them but one person cannot help them all. We all need to unite together to help. That is not the only problem in the world but it should not be ignored. I think this problem should be advertised better because not many people know about this problem. I think that everybody should have a home and anything else that you need to have a healthy and enjoyable life. That is a small story about what home means to me.