What Home Means to Me

My home, I look around and take in my familiar surroundings. I look at the paintings hung around the room, and I look outside and it is raining. I am grateful for a warm meal and heated house as I peek into the kitchen and see my mom making pasta for dinner. She tells me that dinner is ready so we all sit down as a family to eat. She gives all of us a big scoop of pasta. It smells warm and flavourful. I watch as the red pasta sauce slowly drips down the pasta in the bowl almost like strawberry sauce on icecream. I lift up my fork, hard and slightly cold, puncturing the first piece of pasta. I gather as much sauce as I can from the sides of my bowl. I bring the delicious pasta to my mouth, bite down, and it tastes amazing! Countless flavours swirl around my mouth like a whirlpool in the ocean. I chew and take another forkful. My home is a place that I enjoy spending time in. My home is a place I feel safe. My home is a place I feel loved. Written by,