My Home

My home is a place to be happy and safe, to be warm, to be loved to be held. Underneath my roof is a beautiful truth I thought I’d never tell. Where my moms warm embrace lights up on my face like lights in a dark night sky and my questions have answers and those answers have meaning where nothing is fake or a lie. Home is a place where memories are made when your depression cuts deep and like a blade you won't come home home will come to your aid the price of you leaving has been paid. Home is like a blanket wraps itself around you. There is no escape but you aren’t trapped. Home can be a memory, or a place a nostalgic glimpse into the past. Home is different for different people but there is much beauty to that. I can't deny that when I think of it I cry so many people's lives drifting by without a place to call their own without a place to call their home. I can barely imagine what it must be like for those people. Every Minute they spend in their house is precious, never knowing what happens next, never knowing if they will have a place to come home to after school. It must be hard for them and I want to help to make a difference in their lives . Who knows maybe when I grow up I will volunteer at habitat for humanity and become a member of that beautiful community of volunteers like you. Thank you habitat for humanity your organization is literally selling dreams to people who have nothing but each other so thank you.