My Home, Portage la Prairie, Canada

As my pencil flows across this creamy white paper, I search deep inside my heart for the right words to say about the love and dependence I have on my home. Also, about the country I live in. My home smells of a fire in the brick fireplace beside mom, who is drinking coffee and saying ‘’How was your day?” It is the sound of my sibling's skates scratching on my family's backyard rink as dad is flooding it. My home tastes like grandma's warm cookies, they're always made with love. To me, home feels as secure as a chick would in its mother's wings. My home looks like candles burning on the island, and mom and dad say ‘’I love you,’’ as my siblings and I trudge upstairs to go to bed unwillingly. As my pencil scratches across a paper of math equations, I think of how grateful I am to have a reliable education and an excellent teacher. I feel the love and security of my classmates. I know my school is not my house, but that is the beauty of it, school makes me feel at home. The people at school give me the same love and respect my family gives me. As my pencil sketches the beautiful and unique Parliament building. I think of how grateful I am to live in a safe country that respects different cultures. I am proud to be Canadian because of the smell of campfires wafting in the air along with the smell of evergreens, it smells like winter. The sound of laughter fills the brisk air. The taste of rink poutine, and the feeling of comfort and joy, as wonderful as rain to flowers. This is the sight, smell, taste, sound, and feeling of my home, Portage la Prairie, Canada.