A Story About My Home

Home means many things to me, and those meanings come from my experiences. In Ukraine, my family had a beautiful two-floor house that we never finished because of the war. I also had two birds, a dog, and a cat there, whom I miss a lot. In October 2022, my family and I came to Canada as refugees to escape the war and start a new life. At first, my mom, older brother, and I lived in my mom’s friend’s apartment while my dad stayed behind preparing to come. That apartment felt like discovering a whole new world—Canada welcoming me with kindness and support. After about a month, we moved into our own small apartment near the train tracks, which was very loud. We lived there for a short time until my dad finally arrived, and having our family together again made me incredibly happy. While living there, we slowly adapted to Canadian life—school, money, and language. Later, we moved into a bigger, quieter apartment. My brother and I made friends there and created many good memories. Even when loud neighbors moved in and disrupted the peace, we still found ways to enjoy life. Because we felt lonely without a pet, we adopted a cat named Simba, who brought us comfort and happiness. That apartment truly felt like home. Summers were filled with a lot of fun while riding bikes and games, while winters were special because of the snow and my December birthday. It made me feel safe, warm, and protected. In the summer of 2025, we moved into a real house where we live now. I helped my parents renovate it into a modern, beautiful home. I haven’t made many memories here yet, but I know they are coming. :)