Our Home

Everything here is the same. The houses decorating the streets, the trees waving in the breeze. But, in the middle of it all, somehow shining through all the beauty…my home. It stands tall, glowing in the warmth of the winter sunlight. My hair blows in the wind, strands hitting me in the face as I run carelessly into the safety of my home. My freedom. The big and tall door swings open showing the beauty inside. I feel my senses melt slowly into the warmth of the environment, contrasting the icy winds outside. Relief, joy, and happiness crowd my emotions. Home is not just a resting place or a decorated building, it is not a privilege or a right. It is freedom in itself, a place where you may let your emotions go without being judged. It is a place where you know someone is always there to support you whether your life is crumbling or growing. My favorite place in my house is my room. It has never been just a place to sleep or read, it’s been my little place of everything. My eternity. Pictures, stickers, and small pieces of myself and my life embellish the area. A house is more or less of a reward. Some take it for granted, but in reality, there are some who suffer the harsh winters without a roof over their heads. A house is so much more than what some people think. It is love, it is grief, it is an allegory. I’d like to give my appreciation to HABITAT FOR HUMANITY and sponsors for giving people chances and hope to live in love forever and until it gives another person a chance to have a roof on their head.