What home means to me

Home is what I wake up to in the morning, yet I can feel at home anywhere. When I picture my home, I picture mine holding coziness, memories, and family. There are shelters, buildings but none of them are as wonderful as a home. My home is filled with coziness. I've enjoyed all the times I've snuggled with my family listening to records or the conversations while sipping tea. Talking, playing, or even just watching a show, I always feel safe with the coziness of my home. Memories fill my home with pictures on my walls. It's in frames I hold in my room. But they're also in my mind. I remember talking to my family, hugging my cat, listening to her purr repetitively while looking out the window at the snow. I remember playing hide and seek hiding in the most obvious spots but still excited to be found. These memories make me smile instantly knowing that I am appreciated. At the end of the day, I'm always feeling at my best. My mother seems as if she is super woman. Flying around saving me, helping me no matter what, she's always making me laugh, or wiping away my tears, providing me with fun and games. Every super woman needs her super man. My father is always helping my mother with cooking, cleaning, and providing the best opportunities for me, while still having time to work and have a social life. Their magic can help me to evolve and become independent. I thank my home for the memories I have made here. Everyone should have the experience of a kind, loving home like mine. Thank you to Habitat for Humanity for making people feel at home. All of humanity deserves to be housed.