Home Isn’t Always A Building

Home is not always at your house,or at your school ,or at your home town rink. Sometimes your home is your friends and family. For me my home is my mom. My mom makes me feel safe and warm on the inside. She also makes me feel like I can tell her anything. My mom is always supporting me in whatever I desire. She always makes the best homemade hamburger soup on cold, chilly and breezy evenings. Home tastes like a big fresh, steaming pot of soup that just came off the burning hot electrical stove. As soon as you walk inside the house the amazing smell of the burning wood fire candles hits you in the face of the fresh, fruity smell that lingers around the house, because my mom loves candles. Home smells like burning candles in the living room. Home sounds like my mom yelling “does the dog have food and water!” when she walks in the door from a busy day of counting money and signing forms at the Hartney Credit Union. So home sounds like mom coming home for work. So no matter where my mom is and how far away she is from me , she will always be home to me. Because she is as welcoming as a welcome door mat on the front step on the porch in the front yard.