When I Go Home
When I go home, I see a barking dog running over to me. She licks my face and I kiss her on top of the head. I see my kitchen, full of food. Food I don’t have to go look or beg for. Food that’s always right there when I need it. I see my soft bed and ceilings over my head. I see my stuffed animals and my real animals. Thankful that I can provide for them.
When I go home, the smells are comforting and sweet, filling my lungs with relief. I smell fresh air and baked goods and flowers. I can smell myself and my family and my dog.
When I go home, I hear the washing machine and dishwasher doing their job. I’m lucky to have my valuables clean and ready for when I need them. I hear birds chirping happily outside, hungrily too. I’m lucky I don’t have to worry about my family or I scrounging for food like they have to. Any little helping hand makes a big difference, like giving the birds seeds or bread crumbs or donating to charities like this one.
I also hear children laughing outside. No worries in the world, free to enjoy themselves and do what they want. They’re lucky. I’m lucky. Some people aren’t.
When I go home, I feel comfort and relief and sadness. I feel the hot water in my bath. Some people don’t get a decent shower or hot meal or perfect sleep.
Instead, it’s cold and hard and lonely, but it doesn’t have to be. If we all work together and fill our hearts with kindness, we can give those people a chance of safety and love they deserve, so homes can be accessible to everyone.