My Home Tells My Story

When I open the door I can smell my grandmother cooking delicious food and bread. I can hear my sisters laughing and dancing to bagpipes. I help my dad bring in firewood and collect our chickens’ eggs. I feel safe in my home because I can sleep without being disturbed, have a rest when I feel a bit sick, and have my family help chase away my nightmares. I feel accepted for who I am at home because no one ever judges me by my interests or how I look. I like that I can have rainbow colour hair and my family supports that. When I come home from school I get hugs and kisses from everyone even my dog. I am thankful that I can have a warm bubble bath and play my piano for my mom. My home is where my story started and where I have learned how to respect people and their differences, where I learned the true meaning of love, and what a family really is. My home is where I will grow to be a man and raise my family to be open and accepting to all people. My home is the meaning of love.