That’s Home to Me
The meaning of home in a dictionary is, “the place where one lives permanently, especially as a member of a family or household.” I believe a home is much more than that. A home is built, not by wood or bricks, but by the bond of a family.
Home to me is where I feel happy, loved, safe and cared for. Home for me is my family; brother-sister fights, my mom working around the house and my father coming back from work. The meaning of home to me is some place I fit in. My home is special because of all the special memories that are made there. It’s a place where I wear my comfy pyjamas in my bed. Home is a place where you feel good to be there. Even a cardboard box could be your home, not because you don’t have money to pay for a place, but because you love it in there.
Home is where you snuggle up in a cozy blanket by the blazing fireplace, drinking a mug full of warm hot chocolate with humongous marshmallows, watching fluffy, bijou, white puffs falling from the sky, with your family members and feel the love that they give. It’s a place where you can be YOU.
Home is a place where I come back to, all sweaty and crazy-haired from playing tennis. Home is a friend; it saves you from harsh conditions. If you are angry in your room, the walls of your home are there for you, they listen to your feelings, comfort you somehow. Your home is like the giving tree, it gives you everything you need until it runs out of things to give to you. Houses are bought and sold; your home stays with you always. This is HOME to me.