What Home Means To Me

Home is not just a durable roof that I live under, home is the people that live inside the blots, cracks, and insulation that really matters. Home is the feeling of laying in the soft cushioned bed with the cozy sheets covering me and my brother. I read him a bedtime story as his eyes flutter shut and he drifts off to Neverland with Peter Pan and all of his friends. Home is the feeling of the raw toronto chill running down my back. I open the door and the winter breeze fills the air with a chilling wind. I pick up my old worn out snow pants to go sledding. I'm sledding down the hill as fast as I can while the snow dances on my warm pink hat. Home the feeling of a family movie night with the sound of our favorite movie playing in the background. My mom hands me a warm mouth watering bowl of popcorn while the fresh smell Creeps up my nose and the warm feeling starts to fill my heart. Home the sound of the water boiling over the warm pot of pasta while my mom races to go take off the steaming lid. I set the table with the beautiful silverware and the white napkins that almost look as if they were a cloud. Home, the sound of the bright and joyful birds chirping in the newly blooming cherry blossom while I make myself a colling glass of lemon aid. What is your definition of home because that is mine and whenever I need it, it is always there for me no matter what. If I had a long day at school there are always loving arms waiting there for me. By Mackenzie