Where My Heart Finds Its Way Home

Somewhere, time slows down. I can finally breathe and just be me, even if my socks don’t match or my notebook has chocolate on it. Home isn’t about big furniture, fancy rooms and luxurious chandeliers. It’s about people, laughter, and the little things that make it ours. I hear Mama humming while she cooks. Baba tells the same joke over and over just to make us laugh. My siblings run around like sunlight bouncing off the walls. The smells of burnt toast, Mama’s spices, and old books feel like warm hugs I can carry with me. Sunlight fills the windows in the morning, and everything gets quiet after everyone goes to bed. No matter what is happening outside, I feel safe here. This is home. Every corner has a memory. Stickers on the doorway, a table that survived spilled juice and homework disasters, and a couch that has seen my tears, my laughs, and my dramatic flops when I’m bored. Love doesn’t have to be big. It’s hugs when I’m sad, jokes we share, or someone listening even when they’re tired. Here, silence is peaceful, not awkward, and I feel seen. Even when I’m away, parts of home stay with me. Songs from my childhood, Mama’s cooking, Baba’s laugh, and my siblings planning their next prank, follow me wherever I go. Home isn’t just a place. It’s people, chaos, and love that stays with me. Habitat for Humanity shows that a home is more than walls and a roof. It’s safety, belonging, and hope. Helping families make homes gives them the chance to feel safe and happy. One day, I hope to make a home just as messy, warm, and full of life, because home is where my heart belongs.