What Home Means to Me

What home means to me is family, love, happiness and memories. When I walk in the door, I smell the savory smell of my mom’s amazing food. Sometimes kebab, shawarma, lasagna and whatever delicious Iraqi cuisine my mom is cooking that day. The smell of food wafting through the floorboards and reaching my nose, practically begging me to follow it. It sounds like my little brothers, 4 and 8, yelling and screaming at Mario kart, and my mom, dad and gramma laughing at a game show that they like. Home looks like my brothers wrestling and fighting, my mom cooking the best food, and my dad and gramma watching their tv show. Home means the main place the family stays when they visit from Iraq, America, and Moncton. The memories I can best recall are me and my older cousins(14 and 13) playing moose match mayhem when they visited from America and Moncton. Home to me means safe, loved and happy. Home is where the heart is, and my heart is at my house, where my family is. My house may creak and scare me at night, but that's okay. My brothers may be annoying, weird and really smelly, but I love them. So, what home means to me is safety, belonging, and love. And that's what my house feels like. I would never trade it for anything in the world, because I have my favorite people in the whole wide world. I hope everyone can feel that way. That's what home means to me.