The Meaning of Home

This is my base, my favorite place, my start and end to each day. Home is more than wood and stone—it's gold and glory, where walls soak up what I do and say, telling stories of laughter, of whispers when silence calls. It’s the place where every item has been chosen with care, from sweet-scented candles to fixtures and handles, where every corner feels just right to me. It’s footsteps pacing late at night, a porch light glowing, warm and bright. It’s hands that hold me when days feel long, a place where hearts are brave and strong. A place where I live, I learn, and I always choose to return, for this is the heart of me, my perfect place, my home. It’s where the world feels safe and small, yet big enough to hold it all. A sacred space where love is shown, where every seed of kindness is grown. Wooden floors, opening doors, the smell of dinner on our plates. It’s where we fall and rise again, built with love, not hands. where lessons are taught at kitchen sinks, and the quiet hum of the quiet think. It’s my morning coffee, my late night sleep. So near or far, wherever I roam, this is my shelter, my safe place to be— a childhood blanket, memories pressed, the echo of friendly names that say I’m home. It’s movie nights, TV dinners, and the warmth that fills my soul when I return again. Home isn’t just a place we roam—it’s love, and love is home.