A Happy Place

Home can be a weathered cardboard box on the street, full of salvaged blankets and food. Home can be a three-story townhouse with a balcony and a small backyard. For me, home is an apartment on the corner of a busy road. The place doesn’t matter. Home is not just a place. Home doesn’t have to be a closed space. Home is wherever you feel at peace. Home is a place to catch your breath, a place where you feel safe. A place to relax - a refuge from the outside world. Home is where the heart is. Every day, I wake to the sound of footsteps and fall asleep to the sound of cars honking. I hear the wind howling into the night. My feet touch the sturdy hardwood floor. My hands touch the metal doorknobs. The doors creak. The leaves dance and spiral. There’s no place like home. Home is where you feel like you belong. Home can be many different places. It can be anywhere. Anyone. A house, a school, a loving community, a grassy field. Home are the people you love. Home is beautiful. Everyone needs a home - but not everyone has one. For some, their house is different from where they feel happy. Instead of being a refuge from the outside world, their house is the outside world. Other times, someone’s house is filled with people they don’t love, and people who don’t love them back. A house filled with people who hurt them. Their house is filled with objects and things they do not need, but have “just because.” A house is not a home. Everyone deserves a home, a place to sleep and feel joy. A place to enjoy the things you love with the people you love. Home is a happy place.