My Home

My home is where I go to after a tiring day at school. It is where I belong and am safe to be me. I can curl up in my comfy, snug and soft bed and read a good book. I am free to do what I want. Home is freedom. It is a place to belong. My home is where all my possessions belong and where everything I love is. The sight of my home is comforting. I know exactly where everything is. I have it memorized into the back of my head. The dim yellow lights that shine down onto me is what am used to. I stand under the light everyday. The sight of my room fills me with warmth and joy. My room is where I spend countless hours in, reading and crafting. It is the room that contains emotions and a bed, somewhere I spend hours sleeping on every night, just like everybody else. Home taste like the food my grandma makes for dinner. Dishes she prepares just for us because she knows what we like. The taste of her cabbage with potato noodles has a savory soup and pork that melts in your mouth, is home. It is a feeling no other place or home has. Coming home to a fresh meal prepared is a great feeling , only my home has. The taste of my hot chocolate on a snowy day just after playing in the bright white snow restore the warmth that it had before. My home is filled with sounds, some loud, some quiet or none at all. The building I call home is has the sound of me and my brother laughing at each other's words. Sizzle sizzle is the sound of food against the hot pan. The blasting sound of my brother’s music playing brings life and emotion to the quiet surroundings. The sound of nothing is peaceful and soothing. My home has endless sounds. The safest place in the world would be my home. My home is protected with a shield and sword. No one can get in, but me and my family. Home protects me from the cold windy days that are too cold or the desert dry summer days that are too hot. Home keeps me warm and cool to survive those days. It’s the reason I survive the weather of Canada. Home might just be a building, but not just any building, it’s where I belong. My home is filled with love, laughter, food and happiness. My parents love me like no other. The endless laughter comes from me and my brother. Food made with hard work and skill by my grandma. Doing the thing that makes me happy brings happiness, filling my home. My home is filled to the brim with feeling and emotions. My home has stability, something you get only get by having a home. The feeling of going home to a warm house on a cold winter day is the best. Having a home allows me not to worry. Home is a stable place to be. I can’t imagine not having a home. I am really grateful to Habitat for Humanity for building homes for people who are struggling. It's good to know people are getting the help they need and to have a home just like mine. A lot of people can’t afford a home and I am grateful that Habitat for humanity is helping. I am also grateful that my parents can afford a home so I can have a home. The meaning of home to me is somewhere I can be me. I hope that though this, people will get homes and be able to transform their lives.