Home can mean a true lot of things. Me and you might have some identical things, but it won’t be the same. So, this is what home means to me. Home is a quiet but peaceful and loving when my mother hugs me. Yet home holds memories of parties and celebrations. Home is where a smile or a heart is there when I wake up from a sleep. Home is where I am able to hear the soft wind blowing through my window and makes a leaf fall out of a tree. Home is where I can read in my room without anyone bothering me. I like having my own space because I made do activities without someone telling me to stop or be quiet. Home is dirty. Outside there is grass and mud that I can play with and get myself all dirty. A grasp the mud to make it look like a tower. Then my sister comes out with a bucket to make it look better. Home is where all my family is in the room chatting about our day. Home is where the nature calls me to come and use my imagination and pretend a tree is my home. Sometimes I make a wish that there is a small space in the tree for a sleepover. Home is where there is not a single cross word in my family. Where everyone can feel welcome and loved, not excluded. Home is where I can trust everyone inside or out. Trust makes me think of a turtle because trust and turtle both start with a T. Home is a place that I think is the best place in the whole wide world.