Being Safe, Being Happy, Being Home

Home to me is not just a place, it is a feeling and a bundle of memories associated with a place. Home is also like your own personal root, you never really want to leave it. Home is where we should be happy, even when we cry. Home is where we should feel safe, even with thunder clashing violently outside. Home is also a very interesting word, which to me gives off the idea of my family, both who live with me and on the other side of the world. My home is in Canada, simultaneously, my home is in China and Serbia too. If I picture home, I think of all 3 places where me and my parents are from. When I think about my Canadian home, the feeling of embracing a warm hug with my family runs through my body. When I think about home in China, I picture my Chinese family sitting at a table with me and sharing a conversation as well as a pot of Oolong tea in the centre of the table. When I imagine my home in Serbia, I think of my Serbian family and me sitting scattered throughout a room with strong, unpredictable flames of fire cackling away in the fireplace. In these places, I can find that my heart is happy and in the right place. I believe home is also where you feel as close to content as possible. I have lots of gratitude towards being able to experience the feeling of home, and sharing the memories that home provides. When I am home, I encounter the feeling of home most strongly when all my loved ones and favourite foods are around me. Particularly on a warm summer's day, eating hot potatoes right off the grill, sharing them with some of my family members. No one place in particular is my home, it is wherever my heart can settle for what I have.