Meaning of Home

I wake up in a house; I realize it's my home. I look around at my room. The room I've laughed, cried, and smiled in. The room my friends and I have had sleepovers in countless times. I walk out of my room into my kitchen. The same kitchen my mom makes dinner every night, where she found out how to make her delicious cheese cake, where every time I was sick, I could smell the soup on the stove waiting to serve me. I turn my attention to my living room. My family and I have played games, had laughs, talks, lessons in, and heart-felt talks that made my home grow. Across are the stairs leading down to my basement, the underground room. We store decorations: fake pumpkins, Christmas lights, plastic Easter eggs, and photos. Staring at the photos I can feel comfort. Walking around my house I feel comfort, smelling my mom's cheesecake I feel comfort, laying in my room I feel comfort, and thinking about those lessons in my living room, the heart-felt talks that brings my body comfort. A home is not brick walls and concrete. A home is any place you feel loved, safe, and warmth. That is what home means to me.