What My Home Means To Me

My home is where the people I care for are. It can be a place that shelters me from wind and rain, but also a place that shelters me from difficult emotions. My home is where I can walk across the stepping stones of our flower garden, where I can stand beneath the falling petals of our white lilac tree in the spring. It’s where each loving memory is like a blossom in the wind, dancing across my heart to plant seeds of confidence within me. My home is where my parents are, where I can enjoy my mom’s Chinese teas and soups, and my dad’s delicious cooking. My home is where I can laugh and have sleepovers with my friends. My home is where I can read books with my mom and do crafts with my dad. My home is where I can eat my Baba’s family dinners, and I can play with my cousins. My home is where I can play family board games and card games. My home is where I can spend hours writing and drawing. A place where I can do whatever I like. My home is wherever I feel safe and loved, like a warm hug wrapping around me and protecting me. My home is a place where I belong, and everything there means the world to me.