The Meaning of Home

It is a peaceful winter day. We are on winter vacation. I am sitting on a soft rug on the roof, enjoying the warm and gentle winter sun. My grandma sits beside me, wrapping her shawl around herself. The sunshine feels soft, and the whole world feels quiet and calm. Baba brings sweet oranges for us, and we eat them with a little salt while sitting in the sun. Grandma lovingly peels oranges for us. In the background, we hear the slow sound of the old oil press, and the air feels full of peace and comfort. Little Mimi is playing downstairs with Mama, while Isabel and I read a storybook upstairs. After some time, we take a cozy nap in the sunshine. Later, we eat warm lentil soup and rice together. The whole day feels safe, happy, and full of love. Its getting darker, Mom calls us downstairs. We watch our favorite show together and laugh. Grandma asks for her prayer mat, and Mom reminds me to study. As I sit with my books, I think about my dream of becoming a doctor one day. This was my home years ago — the home that still lives in my imagination, the home I can never forget. Now I have come to Canada, Grandma has left us for her eternal journey, and we all live in different corners of the world. But that warm feeling deep in my heart is the true meaning of home for me. No matter where life takes me, my home will always live in my heart like a soft, glowing light.