Meaning of Home

Ding dong! I ring the doorbell and my mom delightfully opens the door. The warmth fills my heart with relaxation. I run over to the kitchen, sniffing the freshly cooked rice that fills the air. While the rice is cooking, I notice my little sister singing and dancing along with the music in the living room. On the wall are family photos shaped like a tree. There are photos of when I was little. There are also photos of my family, having fun with excitement and amusement. I go upstairs because I don’t want to listen to my sister’s loud singing, and to change into my comfy, warm pajamas. I look into my closet. I see some messy clothes stacked together and some hung up. I have to dig in to find my PJ’s. After I’m done, I see the television that was sitting on the counter for years. Memories flood through my mind, remembering when me and my family watched kdramas, and other movies, crying together, as we watched them. I just realized that my mom was watching a random drama, when I stopped thinking of the times my family watched movies. My mom smiles at me, then turns back to watch a drama. I smile back at her, but then my mom sarcastically says, “ Noooo! I think the main character is going to die! I shriek, then slowly back away. My mom shouts and says to go outside to the backyard, to get a stretch, instead of playing games and doing other stuff. I sigh, and put on my indigo colored jacket, matching with my snowpants. I open the door as the ice-cold, winter wind hits my face. There is a dead sunflower that my sister and I grew together in the summer. I breathe the cool breeze. I get a quick stretch and go back in. In the basement, there’s a couch where me and my dad play video games. Here, I see my dad trying new horror games. I observe the treadmill that my dad uses, even though I think my sister should, because honestly she is chubby. I go up again, to my room, and see my desk, filled with a bunch of art pieces that I have drawn so far. There is a clump of different eye drawings that was never cleaned, even though my mom scolded me for not cleaning it. My room is a museum filled with a lot of wacky drawings and some that my sister says that, this part doesn’t look right or something is missing. Sometimes I get irritated by that, but I get used to it. What are things that make a home for you? What kind of emotions do you feel when you're in your home? What is a home for you? A home isn’t where you fight or argue, it is a place where you are with the loved ones, supported, and lastly, where you think you belong, and also a home is a haven. All of these things make me joyful, peaceful, and delightful, like when my little sister plays along with the music. When I look at my family, I feel happy. When they’re downhearted or despondent, I feel downhearted too. If they are gleeful, I feel the same! These things make a home for me. There are plenty of more words to make a home. I believe everyone in the world deserves a home. Habitat for humanity, I appreciate you so much for building homes for the people who need them.