Their Words

The house I belong in is like a potion, if you do not follow the rules things will go wrong. But if you do things right, the people you are making the potion for will be happy and grateful. Home to me isn’t just a place it’s where me and my dad drum together, laugh together, and bake. Most of the time we share stories at supper about funny or serious things. We treasure the words of those we love. We always find ways to connect even when we disconnect at times, we find ways to reconnect. Home feels like a warm blanket when my room is cold at night. Home tastes like homemade pizza buns that burn my mouth. My home smells like clean air after an exhausting day at school. My home sounds like my dad whenever he is drumming downstairs. Last but not least, my house looks like a loving home. I love my home.