What home means to me

The children’s book, the Giving Tree, is a story about a young boy and his friendship with a tree. In the story, the tree helps the boy throughout his life: he gives him apples to sell, wood to make a canoe, branches to make a house. When the tree is eventually a stump, the boy even uses the tree as a seat. The boy always returns to the tree when he needs help, support, advice and companionship. This is how I feel about my family. When my mom pushes me to try new activities that I am scared of, I get mad at her and try to make her feel bad. But it usually works out and most of the time, I am glad she pushed me to try something new. I am not a morning person. But every morning, my super positive and over the top dad wakes me up saying, “rise and shine.” He also asks me what he can make me for breakfast (even though he knows I rarely eat breakfast.) My annoying older brother constantly teases me and frustrates me, but that's just how he tells me that he loves me. When I have been on my electronics too long, my younger sister will march into my room and demand that I play with her. But I always seem to have a lot of fun playing with her. My parents are always asking me to help take care of our pets. I could do more but the animals always show me love. My dog and cat sleep curled up next to me almost every night. Home to me is like how the tree loved that little boy. But I don't plan on turning them into a stump. Instead, I plan on taking care of them as much as I can and helping them grow as well.