A House is not a Home

Hi, my name is Violet. I used to live in Korea but now I live in Ontario, Canada. I am very interested in how you give people in need something so huge for something so little. I have been blessed to be able to have a home. Home means to me many things like memories. Memories are stuck in our walls. I have been living in my home since I was 4. I am 11 now, almost 12. Every moment I am in the house it is permanently inscribed in the house. I love my house. It is now a part of me. Some memories are, my mom taking pictures of me in my outfit in front of the house for my first day of kindergarten, or when I used to sing on my couch. Some memories are bad but my home makes me feel safe. Home also gives me a boost of confidence. Whenever I am sad or unhappy I get home my mom looks at me and realizes what mood I’m in. She asks me what's wrong in addition to a big, huge, tight hug which makes me feel like I can do anything. My backyard is part of the family. We have trees that are in our backyard. They are 100-year-old trees, they are special and are extremely tall! One fell down. It was a quiet day. But now I run up and down it. Leaves are still growing on it that just shows when you fall down you can still get up. Our home is small, nonetheless, it is big in our hearts. Furthermore, house means: Love, Respect, Togetherness, Acceptance, Memories, Confidence, along with many other things. This is what “Home means to me”.