My Home, My Place of Belonging

My home is my refuge, my warmth, my sanctuary. When I come home to from school feeling down, this home puts me on solid ground. When outside is feeling cold, the warmth of my home takes hold. When I need escape, my home is my peace. The smell of my home signifies my homestead. The mix of the aromas when mom is cleaning and washing with detergent. She says, “do not use the washroom, unless it’s urgent.” Fried chicken, leafy greens and more; I am hungry so I will save space to savour the meal. Framed pictures of my family all over the walls. I see my growth trajectory after all these years. The years my family has loved and cared for me. My home brings great bliss, the place I am meant to be. Sometimes I want to be alone. However, these people around me turn this house into a home. My younger sibling can be very annoying, but it is him that keeps me going. The brevity of life I now understand. It makes my home my priority since it is where love will stand. Words of wisdom from my parents I hear. “Obedience is better than sacrifice” those resonate loud and clear. Sometimes I feel it’s overwhelming, but it is the truth. I know they just want the best for me where home becomes the sanctuary of my youth. O, the diverse cuisine explored in my home. It makes me feel like I have travelled the world and back. The fact that I have food daily is a blessing and not a lack. My home helps me to see that. My home means what I have mentioned and more. Words elude me to capture its meaning for sure. But I am certain it is my steady, my root, my peace. For a home I am thankful that my heart belongs, and I can sleep.