Where Memories Begin

Home is where memories begin. Home is where I grew up in. I said my first words, walked my first steps. Home is not just where I live; it’s memories I will never forget. Home is where I can express myself, truly. Home is where I can tell my mother how I feel, really. Home is the place my father comes back to after working hard for us. Home is the place where everyone has each other. It’s a place where I can feel safe with one another. Home is not a place; it’s an emotion. A home doesn’t need to be fancy. It doesn’t need to have a new bed or sofa. The only thing it needs to have is love, trust, and laughter. Home might be a shelter ,but it’s way more than that. The pictures on the walls, the drawings I drew all are memories. A home has memories with loving families. The memories don’t need to be perfect. When walking into the kitchen, I see my mom working hard for our family. The smell of her homemade persian stew fills the air. At the dinner table we share our day. Good or bad we promise to be together, forever. Home doesn’t need to have perfect memories; it’s small moments. Home is the memories, family ,and emotions. When I get home, I always know there’s warmth on the other side of that cold door. Home can not be expressed by words. Your home is special. It’s a place you will never find in this big universe. Home isn’t just anything; it’s everything.