What Home Means to Me

For me, home will never be a place. Home isn't a certain street or a city. Home isn’t a lucky charm you carry around in your pocket. Home is friends, it’s family and it’s memories. My friends are the people that I know will always have my back. They are the people that I can come to if I’m down. Their calls after a long day will always put me in a brighter mood. Their warm hugs and their unforgettable care is what makes them my home. My family are the people that I know will always accept me for who I am. After a long day Me and my Dad will sit and laugh on the couch for hours, as we watch the same funny videos we have watched over a million times, over and over again. When Mom yells “Dinners ready”! Me and my brother will sprint downstairs to see who gets to the comfy chair first. Every baking day with Mom will always be special. Doesn’t matter what we're cooking, if it’s cookies or even cake, the unforgettable times we have will always make her my home. All the memories I cherish will always be special. Every road trip to Nova Scotia and every car ride to Montreal has a special place in my heart. Even the little times when we were eating dinner downstairs while watching the same show we have already watched before. All the hockey games where dad covered my ears when the buzzer got too loud, and the baseball game, where my step-dad caught the baseball. Home is a magical place full of love and happiness where anyone can feel safe. Thank you Habitat for Humanity for changing the lives of people in need.