Home isn’t just shelter.

I love my home. Every part of it. The smell of steak and mashed potatoes in the kitchen. The dining room table remembering the times we sat down and talked about our days. The couch knew when we sat down and watched action and comedy movies. My dad did his DJ sets on New Year's Day. I’ve lived here for 9 years. And I still love it. The same way. I always had. My room is not that clean, but not too messy. The pictures of my parents glancing at me on the wall remind me of when I was a baby. There’s my gymnastics mat, where I practice front rolls, cartwheels, and handstands. And my bed, where it has comforted me in all the hard times. When I laid there and cried. My family helped me. Helped me understand that hard days will get better if I believe it will. They helped me see a bright future in my eyes. What home means to me is a lot. I love my home because there are people who support me. I also love my home for the security it gives me. Home gives me lots of emotions. Joy, comfort, love. A home isn’t just a place with nice decorations. It’s a place to help you feel supported and comforted. So, Thank you Habitat for Humanity. For helping people who have no home. Thank you for caring. I hope the people you help are going to live a happy life. And thank you to the readers for reading my story. The end.