HOME TO ME

I don’t remember the plane or the first step on this new land. I was only one, but I remember voices calling my name. Canada feels like home to me in small ways: winter boots lined up by the door, the sound of my school bell ringing, the feeling of safety when I come back at the end of each day. Tasting my mom’s yummy, hot, spicy, delicious pasta makes me drool when I get home. I smell the strong aroma of my dad’s chicken. I see my sibling’s messy, non-walkable room when I look inside. I hear my playlist going song to song with all the songs I can’t stop singing to. I feel the warmth of my parents’ hugs when I come home. Home isn’t just a building; it’s a place where I feel safe and loved every day. I was born in another country but, I have learned that not every one’s eyes see home the same but to me Canada is my home it will always be forever.