Home

Home is a place where I feel loved. When I drift to sleep the wind dances- woosh woosh, but I'm protected by my home. Home smells like happiness when my mom bakes on Shabbat. Home is loud on Saturday mornings because my little brother is watching soccer with my dad, and my older brother is snoring along with my mom. But it's okay because I am used to it. Home is where memories are born, good or bad. When I dance or sing all my bad memories go away. When I sleep my warm covers are like a big hug after a long day. Home smells like a delicious home cooked meal.