The Meaning of Home

I consider myself lucky. I have a home in Canada, but I also have a house in Turkey. I love my house and my home. Our family moved to Canada for a better education. I now live in Surrey, B.C and I love my home. Home is not just made of bricks and wood; home is made of imagination - a home is a lifestyle. When I come home, I feel accepted. Because when I do something wrong no one judges me. They don’t judge me for my long hair or the fact that sometimes I am not organized. They love me the way I am. To me home is the scent of my mom’s cooking. She always cooks delicious food like pasta and spinach with eggs and spicy sauce which is so good. It smells like heaven in my home when my mom cooks. I love going to bed hearing the sound of my parents talking softly, while they watch movies. That sound is like a blanket of comfort that wraps around me. They always make time to play games like Scrabble, Taboo, Surreyopoly, Chess, Exploding Kittens and Dumb Ways to Die. We laugh a lot when we gather around the board games. Home is everything warm, and fuzzy and welcoming. Home is where my family is because that is where my heart will always be.