The Key of Love

As I walked through the field, I came across a sight. Was it a flag? No, that wasn't right. It was clothes on a line. It was strung between two trees billowing in the breeze. Then I saw it. A house alight. As I rushed over to the catching flame, I saw a family. They had contented looks about them, staring up into the night. Then they looked at me. Their smiles widened and there was love in their eyes. Then, I knew I was home. At that moment I knew what home meant to me. Home is not a building as I was led to believe. It can be in a mansion, or it can be in a hay bale. But what home means to you is beyond me. The meaning of home to me is with your family. Whether that's with your pets, with your friends, or your biological family, this is what home means to me. This is how I feel about my home. When I’m in my home I feel; love, joy, peace, kindness, and goodness. The love of God is hanging with my family. We’re not like the family in the poem, but we share love like them. We have a house, and they don’t, but we share in the moments together just like them. I love my home, and the family in the poem. But whatever you believe, I think love is the key.