Some people see my house as a structure formed from bricks and wood to provide protection. But to me, it is more than that. It is a place where wonderful memories are created, in which I feel: welcomed, expressive, and loved. Though these amazing moments may only last a couple seconds, they will stay with me forever.
After a long day at school, I just can’t wait to get home. As I enter, I am welcomed by the delicious scent of my mother’s cooking. For as long as I can remember, I have always been welcomed back home with hugs, food and the interest in knowing what amazing things I have done. I will always remember these loving memories of coming home and will carry on this tradition.
My house belongs to my parents, but my room is MINE. I chose every piece of furniture, painted the walls, and picked the decorations. I feel lucky that I have a space that I can call my own and where I can express my personality. I will always fondly remember my room as a place where I could go to relax, think independently, and most of all -to be me.
When I think of home, I immediately think of my family. I am so grateful to have such an understanding, loving and supportive family. My parents and my brother are always there for me, whether it’s cheering at my volleyball games or treating scraped knees after falling. The little things, like the laughs we share or the interesting conversations we have about our days, will be memories that will always warm my heart.
My home, where all special and heartwarming memories are created with my amazing family. It is where I feel welcomed, expressive, and loved.
Little things, big memories – Home.