That Reminds Me Of Home

Home for me is late night giggles with my brother as my parents tell us to go to bed, The sparkle of my twinkling lights, a safe place, a place where you are loved, A place where your mom lets you make warm cookies on a cold windy night. Home for me is when you are surrounded by people that you are respected by. Home to me is when my parents have tucked me in bed with a warm kiss and a hug. Home to me is when I feel at peace, when I'm connected with the wind, air, rain, and earth. I feel at home when I hear the tapping of raindrops hit the tiles on my garage roof. Home. When the wind blows my hair back, that reminds me of home. Home is everywhere for me. Home for some people is not a place, it might be a person, a pet, a feeling, a smell, a taste, a sight, an object. There are some parts of this big world where some people don’t have a home. They don’t have a person, a place, they have themselves. For some people that's enough but for other people they don’t even feel comfortable in their own body, their own mind, their own thought bubbles. I'm grateful that there are kind enough people out in this world that are willing to help people like this. I want to be one of them. I'm thankful for Habitat For Humanity. I hope one day that I can make a change for some people, I hope that one day everyone has a home.