What Home Means to Me

To me home isn’t a house. It is a space that has a special place in my heart. It is full of love and care, even the smallest things are special in my home. The things in my home that are so precious to me are when me and my dad play volleyball in the kitchen. Sure, we may break a cup or two but we make so many more memories. Family sleepovers are also very precious to me. We put the mattresses in the playroom and watch a movie together. My sister and I always fight over what movie to play but I always win. My home is special, not because of the building but the people. I feel safe, comforted, and protected. I think of my home as a museum of memories with the pictures on the walls and through the halls or a kitchen of comfort. When I feel upset, my mom and I sit in the kitchen and talk about my worries making me feel cared for and understood. My home is warm and smells like fresh baked cookies on a clear fall day. It reminds me of comfort and a calm supportive environment. Home isn't only a building to eat a snack when hungry or take a nap when tired, it is a place to share stories and make memories in a positive household. To me home is calm but sometimes silly, it is safe and makes me feel happy. This is why I love my home because it is so much more than a building.