What a Home Means To Me

A home is more than just a place that you go to for alone time, shelter, and warmth. Many people do not have a home. Some, for many different reasons, are homeless; they have no special place to call their own. Others choose to be homeless, a house is just that, a place to stay, a building. They do not have any special memories or feelings or attachments to this house. As a 10year old immigrant I know what it is like to lose a home. I had to leave behind my three dogs, my swimming pool, my garden and my wild pet chameleon when we moved to Canada. Everything that was my world. That was a very sad and tough year. I did not like that experience. We have slowly built up a new home here in Canada and I now have my own room, full of all the things I like and love. I will always miss my old home, but I have learnt that I can learn to love my second home. My new home gives me my privacy and I am starting to build up new special memories. Memories of when we first moved in, funny sleepover moments with my best friend, never getting tired of playing my favorite films over and over again, baking my first cake for Mom's birthday, barbecuing with my Dad through the summer and finally, surrounding myself with all my teddies who all have their own stories to tell. My home holds souvenirs and my personal memories. I am grateful for my warm clothes, my bathroom and my cozy bed. I love my home because its my secret world. My home reminds me of how lucky I am.