What Home Means To Me

Home is not a building, nor an image or display. It is simply a feeling of joy, happiness and peace. I know I’m home when I feel the warmth in my heart and the smell of dinner in the oven as my mother greets me with a hug and embraces me softly. I think of the silly times we've had together, the forts we made and the games we played. With the feeling of hope, safety and faith, as the day ends I get tucked into bed. With my cat by my side I will sleep with some pride, as I dream in the spot where I learned how to walk, where I grew up to be the best of me. Home is where I am comforted and where I rode my first bike, where I learned to talk and be kind to my friends. Oh, I love my home, so imperfectly owned. What a lovely little place that I like to call my own. So thank you for giving me this opportunity to show how I write and how I dream in the night. So let’s build a house, a home for a family!