What Home Means to Me

Home is where you make memories, like having glowstick parties in the basement, or imaginative games with the kitchen spider called Fred. Home is a place to feel safe, secure and welcome. You don’t need to be scared or afraid to ask for things because home is family, and family loves you no matter what happens. Every single room in my home has at least one scribble mark, leaving pieces of our childhood behind as a reminder of the love and comfort and happiness growing up. When I was little, I attempted a Dora drawing in the corner of my basement wall, and my little sister drew a cat for me on the basement wall. These still make me smile when I catch a glimpse. At home, I always have my little siblings there to try and cheer me up when they see I’m down. You have wonderful mom’s and dad’s that keep a roof over your head, nurse you to health when you’re sick and hug you when you’re sad. A home is what you make of it; it’s where your heart is, where your laughter and love is, and everything in between. It is what you want it to be. That is a home to me.