My Home

Home to me is not just a place, but a feeling that I feel the minute I walk through the door. I hear the familiar beep of the pin pad, and instantly, I know I’m home. I drop my bag, take off my shoes, and feel relaxed. School is over and I can finally have some time to myself, without having to worry about school work. As I walk downstairs, there are family photos on the walls, each one holding a memory that reminds me how much life has happened here. One of the moments when I feel home the most is on my birthday. My dad’s entire family sits around the table with cake, candles flickering, and everyone smiling at me. When my family starts singing “Happy Birthday,” they don’t just sing, they harmonize. My uncle plays the piano, my grandma records, and for a moment, everything feels perfect. Listening to them, I realize how musical my family is, and how much love surrounds me. I don’t know exactly why that harmony means so much, but it makes my heart warm and happy. The people in my life are what make my home what it is. At dinner, there is always laughter, games, and stories about our days. I feel like I belong, like I can be myself without pretending. Home is where I am supported, understood, and loved, and that is why, no matter where I go, home will always live with me.