Home

When I think of home, I think of so many things, but the main thing is all the memories I have had. At home I can be myself, I can laugh as loudly as I want, I can cry whenever I want, it is my safe place. When I think of a house, I think of a worthless building. When I say it's worthless, I don't mean it's dirty, cheap, or ugly. I mean it's just a structure. A structure is a place with no emotions or any memories it's only a roof over your head protecting you from physical damage. When I come home from school, I smell my mom's amazing cooking! I am so grateful for all the food she makes every day because I know some families don't have that. I can still remember when my sisters first taught me how to read, I can still remember when my dad first helped me with homework, I can still remember when I first helped with chores. All of my memories are in my home. Not a random house. Home is my safe place and will always be. No matter what I do, I know my parents will always make me feel loved, accepted, and understood. My home is where I grew up, there are over hundreds of memories some are good some are sad, but some make me realize why I call my house my home.