Not Just a Roof Over Your Head

My home is not just a roof over my head; it is where I grew up, where my friends have slept over, and where I get soothing ‘good nights’ and bright ‘good mornings’. My home is not just these four walls surrounding me in my sleep, or my bright red front door welcoming me back and saying goodbye every day. It is my happy place, my safe space, and most importantly, the unlimited possibilities I have inside of these four walls. When I walk into the kitchen, the first thing to catch my eye is either a delicious snack—like yummy cookies and cinnamon buns baked in this very kitchen—or my great‑grandma’s cookbook. And when I open the fridge, I am welcomed by a little “do da doo.” I guess that’s just the fridge’s way of saying hello. Outside are my neighbors, my friends, and this bright green forest. The landscape is littered with bumble bees on dandelions in the summer and powdery white snow covering every inch of grass in the winter. Beyond the red front door is a garden bed we decorate on Halloween with fake bones and rocks, and my quad just waiting to be ridden. I enjoy calling this place, surrounded with greenery and gravel, my home. I enjoy seeing my family and friends come to visit, even if they live on the other side of the world. I especially love the sight of my grandparents pulling up in their red vehicle. The back deck is made of wood, perfect for setting up slip and slides and waterballoon fights. That is why I am proud to call this roof over my head “My Home.”