Inside my home

When I was younger, I thought of home as my house, nothing more. The house where I would walk in and out of many times every day. Now, I see home as so much more. Although my house is very special to me, it’s what's inside that makes it home. My family room, for example, has a large, comfy sofa that sits along the wall. Huge soft pillows and warm fluffy blankets. My family and I share great memories here, full of laughter and joy. Nothing could replace that. Even just my staircase, where memories of my family and I are trapped in frames and hung on the wall. Home is where my sister and I make plays and songs- laugh and sing. The smells of my dad's fresh bread and my mom's chili fill the house with the most delicious aromas. Home is full of love and hugs. It’s like a warm chocolate chip cookie, “crispy” on the outside and warm and sweet on the inside. My sister and I play board games and watch movies during dark, stormy days. I feel happy just being there, even if it’s mucky outside. In this moment, all that matters are the smiles being shared. It doesn't matter how it feels outside; all that matters is how it feels inside—and that feels like home.