Home is my special place. Home is where warmth is made.
Home is where family comes together. I have a home and you people, don’t have a house, stop for the night and have a home. And by a home I mean a place you feel you are with the people you love. Like your mom, dad, brother, sister, kids, husband, wife, grandparents or anything in between.
A home is not the walls or the floor. Not the ceiling or the furniture.
It’s not the bed. It’s not the money. It’s not the table full of food that many have and many don’t. It doesn’t matter where you live. It doesn’t matter what you have or where you’ve been. It has nothing to do with you being disabled or fine. Because a home is none of those. A home is the people in a house, on a street, on a sidewalk or in a sandy area that love you.
The definition of a house is different then the definition of a home. The word home means a place where family is. The word house means the walls, the floor, the ceiling. You don’t need a house to have a home.
Think. Even though people have a home, they might not have a house.
Some people’s houses are packed full with boxes and walls are narrow but still, they can have a home.
House, home, may seem like the same thing to you, but not to me.
Over the past few weeks I learned the difference because of my teachers.
More than 1786,400,000 are homeless worldwide every day.
We should help. So every year, raise money for different places.