Home for me is not a building, it’s love, laughter, family and sorrow. A house can be torn down but a home cannot. Home is a place where you can be mad, happy and sad, you can be all of those and many more. So now you have an example of what home means.
Home to me is my mom singing to me in the morning. Sometimes I’m happy sometimes I’m ad, but mainly it’s annoying. It makes me feel safe. When I come home from school my dogs Kirby and Stella bark and scratch the door. At night, if I wake up from a bad dream, it comforts me to hear my dogs breathing, my mom and dad snoring, and my hamster running on his wheel. It comforts me and I drift back to sleep.
Home is not just one place, it can be anywhere. I feel at home in Australia and Kangaroo Valley; I feel at home where I horseback ride; I feel at home at my aunts house and my grandparents. I feel at home all over the place. When I am sad or made or both, I cuddle with my dogs or my hamster. Sometimes I even watch my goldfish. It doesn’t matter, they all make me feel safe. I’m grateful for having a home because some people don’t have a home. Home is a place that can never be taken away.