My Home
When you think about home you may think of a house or apartment but I think of a safe place where I will always be able to return to after a long day. A place not perfect but a happy place where my family and I can gladly live. A home is not about living in a big fancy house but the fact that you have a home to come to sleep at night.
Home is the smell of nice freshly baked cookies when you come home from school or nicely cooked pancakes sitting on the table in the morning. Smelling the autumn out your window in the fall. The smell of dinner cooking in the oven, when you get home from school, is home.
The sound of my sister, Penny, playing with her dolls up in her room. My brother Casey, driving his four-wheeler looping around the front yard sounds like home. Mom and Dad hustling to open the shop and getting up ready for school sounds like a busy day at home. The sound of dice being rolled and tokens being placed after supper if we played a game.
The taste of mom's homemade cookies when coming home from school and dad's beautifully cooked super just after that. When Penny tries to make dessert it ends up as a marshmallow chocolate chip soup and makes us eat it that tastes like home.
Petting my soft fluffy cat when he came and sat on me while trying to sleep feels like home. Feeding the barn animals with their dry grain and hay bales then petting their soft but gritty fur.
Looking at my beautiful family in my beautiful home with my beautiful pets is home.
By Cian Alan Costelo
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