My Loving Home

I walk in my house and see the faces that raised me and made me happy my whole life. Cooking, eating, reading stuff on their phones… I know I am safe here. My parents always told me that I should be grateful for what I have. They said that, someone out there, in this vast world, is wishing that they have what I have. So, I learn to love what I get. I never really understood how lucky I am. I always thought that I was just a normal girl. But, now, here I am, glad to even have a house. In better words, a home. Home isn’t about television, games, books, or gadgets... but the loved ones you can connect with. The loved ones you can weep with, smile with, and laugh with. Home is different for everyone. But mine? My home is filled with love, FOOD, and family. Now that I know this, I understand how lucky I am. A home doesn’t have to be all luxury galore; it can be filled with dirt and STILL be a home. How? Loved ones in every corner, smiling. That’s why I love my home.