A home to me
A home to me is where your family is. Maybe I’m not clear. What I mean is that my definition of a home is not “warm and cozy” or “I’ve got everything I could possibly want”. No. It’s like when you are coming back from a vacation and you are saying, “I’m coming home”. Home is where you feel safe. It is where people like you and you like them back. And, then again. Some people may think a home is where you have velvet chairs with plush cushions or even a room with a canopy bed with a TV and all that great stuff. To me, really, a home is where the heart is, with family. Because what is a home without family? For example, take Mister Scrooge; he lives in a giant mansion all alone, no heat or light, except a lit candle or a fireplace. The more I think about it, I think that is creepy. I mean, who want to live in a house / gigantic mansion all alone? Anyway, the point is a home is nothing when there is nobody. Home is where the heart is.