Home

Home is not just a house, a shelter with a roof and walls. It is a place where hope is inspired, love is made, and dreams are created. Home is the smell and sound of the fire crackling merrily in the grate on a winter's night where we sit and play games, chat, read, or just enjoy each other's company. Home is where I can smell my mom’s familiar cooking while she makes dinner. Home is in my trailer, where we do lots of camping, where the sprucy smell of the fir, pine, and spruce trees fills the campsite. Where I wake and it’s warm under the covers but the cold nips at me when I am out. Home is baking with my mom, where the delicious aroma of whatever we baked fills the place. Home is on my bike with my family behind me where I flash past the trees on a bumpy, rocky trail. Home is on my dad’s boat and the feeling as we wiz past on the water, wind in my hair. Home is the taste of pie for dessert during Sunday dinner at my grandparents. Cherry, lemon meringue, and pecan are just a few. Home is the feel of my quilt that I sleep with every night with soft patterns I can see and enjoy with my eyes. Home is reading a good book before I sleep. Home is the sound of laughter, the voices I know, and birds chirping in the morning. Home is getting annoyed with my younger siblings, having good times with them and loving them the whole way through. Home is a place I can go if the world is just too much. Home is all of the above all squished into one.