What my home means to me
I moved last summer into an old creepy house and even though my old house is gone it was the best house I’ve ever had. My home is my family and that’s what home means to me. My home isn’t a house at all. It is me, what I love and my family. To me, my home means love, kindness and care. Even though I don’t really like my house. I have my family and my family is all I need . I’m happy for my family and love them very much because even if they’re gone I know they still love me.
One thing that really makes me feel like home is travel. I love traveling in cars and planes. In a few weeks I’m visiting a little part of my home that I’ve never met before, my cousins. My cousins make me feel at home because they love to look up to me and play because they are pretty young. I love little kids because they are a fun responsibility, and they make me smile. I can’t wait to see a part of my home for the first time.
I feel very sorry for the people who don’t have proper homes or houses like me and I want to make changes but it’s hard to. So when I grow up no matter where I live or work I will always open up my home to those in need and help them and give them what they need. So just maybe the world hopes one day people will watch me and will want to do the same and then do the same. Then no one will be without a home. Because there will be kindness love and sharing everywhere we roam.
There are some many little things in the world that just make us smile, have fun and encourage us to be kind. The kindness and love in the world is really what our home means to us. But it’s not just what it means to us it’s what we are and what we love.