There is no place like my home

A house is a place but my home is my safe space. My home is like Captain America’s shield, it protects my love, my heart and my soul. The things in my home, the people in my home and the feelings in my home make me feel warm inside, like a nice cup of warm hot chocolate on a cold snowy winter day, snuggling with my family just like the marshmallows in your hot chocolate. As my nose sniffs the air, I can smell the scents of my mother’s cooking mixed in with a whole lot of pride and joy. I can feel my bare feet stepping along the cold marble floor from the cold weather outside. In my home, in my shelter, in my heart. In my province, in my community, in my neighborhood I can taste the delicious poutine as the goldish-brown gravy spreads across my lips and my tongue. As I listen to the sounds of the heater I can hear a faint laugh coming from the dining room, as well as plates being scraped with utensils. As I come closer I can hear the sounds of my family’s chatter and laughter as we all laugh about how my brother fell in the snow pile today. We laugh, we laugh and we laugh even harder. I am grateful to have a home especially when people have difficulty to find one. Although I am extremely grateful to Habitat for Humanity for getting people on their feet and most importantly, building a house but giving people a home.