The Home Story
The Home Story
Once upon a time, Oh , you know what. Cut it out! My name is home, and I’m going to tell you what I really mean people think a house (my enemy) as home! (how embarrassing!)Now, I will present you what I have been practicing about explaining what home (me) is.
Home is not always man made, It can be somewhere like a nice old, shed, or a in a dugout. Home means love, memories and stability. At night, you feel safe knowing that, in the middle of the night, you have a roof over your head, so ice pellets won’t come crashing on your head. Even though a home isn’t your family, you still love it. Imagine if your home was zapped away! You would have been very miserable. There’s something about home that gives you a tingle or a wave, of coziness when you enter.
It’s Home! Hello! Home can mean habitat, but it also can mean something else…
Home could also mean your comfort, like a pet’s or family’s smile when you come in your home. It could also be a familiar smell, like dad’s cooking, or grandma’s pie. Some things like that, can say to you, “welcome home!” Home can also be a nice, familiar sight, like your pet curled on your bed, or maybe just the look of your bed could say welcome home, too! But home can also be a place where you can cry, and have privacy. Home can carry your sanctuary, and your belongings. And, even though it isn’t alive, you have something about it with you that you can’t explain, and every single person has that feeling sometimes.
Back to me! Now see what I mean, home doesn’t always mean house, it has a deeper meaning to it. Understand? Great now you know what home means. Bye-Bye.
By: Annie Yin