My Wonderful Homes

Many people think that a home is the same thing as a house. I disagree. I have two homes, one with my mom and one with my dad. Because of this, I have double the amount of information about the difference between a house and a home. For instance, lots of people live at my dad’s “house”: Auntie Hien, Uncle Roger, Uncle Ray, Uncle David, their cat Yumi, my dad, my sister and me. The “home” I have with my dad is just my dad, my sister and me. At my mom’s “house”, lives my mom, my sister and me. But my “home” with my mom also includes my grandma and grandpa (Poh Poh and Gong Gong). Poh Poh and Gong Gong don’t live at my mom’s house, but they come over twice a week and help us cook, clean, shop, play and eat with us. Both of my “houses” are made of bricks and have bedrooms, kitchens, bathrooms and living rooms, but that’s not what makes a “home”. Both of my “homes” are made of love and feel comfortable, safe and familiar. It doesn’t matter what house I’m in, my home is where my family is. A home is a house that lives in your heart.