IT’S NOT JUST MY HOUSE … IT’S MY HOME!

IT’S NOT JUST MY HOUSE … IT’S MY HOME! Last week my class had to talk about what home meant to us, and why it’s not the same as a home. Later that day I went home and started wondering what home meant to me. I thought about it all day, but I just couldn’t think of anything. When I got to school the next day over half of the class already had their answer. One of the kids in my class said, “I think home is a place with people. A house is a building.” Another student said, “Home is a place I play with toys. A house is filled with furniture.” I sat there thinking, “These are great opinions on the meaning of home, but it doesn't feel like my meaning of home.” I went to my teacher and told her that I just couldn’t think of what home meant to me. She told me only I would know what it truly meant to me. So I went home and thought some more. Then it hit me! When I say my home I don't think about toys or just people, I think about people I love. I think about memories, laughter, sadness, joy, a place to go to when I need help. I realized that home was wherever my family was, not just a place to live. When I went to school the next day I explained to my class what home meant to me, and I aced the assignment! To me this wasn’t just an assignment, it was a realization of how lucky I am to have a home, an amazing community, and to have people that I love care about me.