What does home mean to me?

Home is not a place like any other. It is a place that holds almost everything l need. When I was 3 years old, my family and I went to a place called Nepal for two months. At first, I was very excited when I got there. My expectations were we would live in a big house but it was the opposite. Eventually my happiness faded. It got even worse. When I saw that I had to spend two months living with my cousins, I thought that was the worst place to live. The next day me and my mom walked a long way to get to the market. As we walked toward the market, l saw a man sitting on the street. I asked, “Mom, who is that man?” She explained that he is a homeless man. Later that day, I thought about the things I have that the man did not have. There were lots of things like a home, food, and a bed. l felt bad for the man. I also appreciated that the little house I have wasn`t the worst but not the best. Two months passed. I happily packed my bag because we were leaving. I pretended to walk sadly away from my cousins. But inside l felt a burst of joy because we were going home. While I was on the plane, I was thinking about what my cozy, calm and comfortable home. Also, I remembered home is relaxing, restful and a place to recharge. When I am in my own room, I wake up with a peaceful breeze. Later, I realized that I was lucky because some people do not have their own room or sometimes not even a home! The most important part about my home is my family. That is why I admire my home.