What My House Means to Me

I have never thought how lucky I am to have a roof over my head and walls beside me. If your home was a garbage bag it would stink like crazy. Now smell your house. What does it smell like? Does it smell like cookies, pie, clean laundry? If your house just got crashed by a rockslide and you would have to live on the streets how would you feel? Sad, mad, both? My home means so much to me. It is not just walls and a roof, it is made of memories and family members. I have never moved so I don’t know what it feels like at all but a few years ago we had to put our dog down. We missed him but we got a new dog. My house is made of emotions.

Serena

5 Année

Rosenfeld, Manitoba

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