A Special Place Called Home
~A Special Place Called Home
My home is somewhere I’m attached to, a place that I am welcomed with open arms and it also means so much more to me than just a word, much more.
Whether you’re in poverty or not, your household will always be resting somewhere whether you call home a building, or somewhere it lays resting deep down in your soul.
A house is a noun because it is referred to a thing but a home is different.
A home is more of an adjective because it describes a noun, it makes a noun sound better, more lovable.
A home is a place where anything or anyone can express laughter with chatter, to learn with no concern and to be loved without being shoved.
Home is a place where you can be treated with respect while being loved, welcomed with care and praised for just being yourself.
If I live anywhere without family or friends it makes me feel lonely and makes me feel like my home is somewhere else.
Somewhere I belong to.
When I hear the word “home” I immediately think of the nice, warm and scrumptious aroma of my parents cooking and how we laugh with each other while playing games together and looking back at the beloved photos of our past memories, together.
My home is a place for me myself to be comfortable, loved and cared for, somewhere I can live life to my fullest potential.
Then when it is time for the lights to go off, I get tucked right into my cozy bed not needing to worry about all that’s going on in the world, just me and my home sweet home.
Home is not where you are from, it is where you belong.
Some of us travel the world to find it.
While others find it in person.