Home is My Safe Place

Home is where memories are made, home is where I relax, home is my safe place. When I was two, my mom and dad moved my brother and I from London, England to Portland, Oregon. And then when I was eleven, we moved to Vancouver. But I always felt the same way about home. When I come home from a long day, all I want is the comfort of my cats and family. Every day after school I see my cat at the door, she breaks the rules of cats being aloof and not liking humans. I decide to make cookies sometimes. When my cat Barry was still alive, I heard him meowing about my day, purring and trying to help. I smelled cinnamon, flour, Barry, chocolate chips, and cookies fresh from the oven. I saw Barry sitting on a stool, craning his neck to see the counter, which is covered with ingredients and dough. I tasted delicious, warm, crispy, cookies with hot melty chocolate in them. It makes me feel warm and happy, even though I usually don’t like eating with other people. Home is more than a house, objects, or color. Of course these are important, and a part of home. But the most important part for me is that home is my safe place. Not just locked windows and doors, it’s the safety of calm sameness and my calm family. Home is so much more than just a building. Home is a safe haven, calm with the people who know me best. Home is my safe place.