The Meaning of Home

I felt the raindrops pelting my hair as I raced off the bus. Immediately, I opened the door and ran inside. I was in my home, the place where I found family, comfort, and safety. My mom came down the stairs and waved at me. A home is not just a brick building. It’s where you play, eat, and laugh. Most importantly, it is love and happiness. So after a long day, I curled up in my bed to take a rest. I thought about how this was home. I learned this was home in Kindergarten. Every day, I came back from school wondering why I kept coming home. Why not somewhere else? Why can’t another place be home? No other place could be home because this was home. My home was unique and different. That day, I remembered that my home was also a memory. That day made me think about home more often. After that day, I remembered that home was always important.