The Meaning of Home

When I get out of bed in the morning I take a deep breath. It smells like home, my home. My mom says I have a sleepover today. It will be my first sleepover. I am happy and excited because I am going to be sleeping at another person's house. When I get to my friend's house, my first reaction is that this house is not my house. Things are in different spots than at my house. It has more rooms. It has a bigger backyard. This house smells different. It's not my house. As I stay another hour, this becomes more clear. And then it happened. It was time to sleep and that's when I started to feel home sick. Once my friends were asleep, I went to the phone and called my dad. He answers and I say to him, I'm scared. I want to go home and then he told me our home is not our house. I stood there silently. It's not? I whisper. It’s a place where you are loved and safe and protected, my dad says. So do you feel those things? I ended the call and then I realized that I do feel those things and I went back to bed not afraid anymore and I fell asleep with the feeling of home. For habitat humanity Good night to the homeless