Home Sweet Home

I was three years old on a plane wondering if I would ever see my house again. Because of the war my house was gone and my friends and family were left behind. My house back in Syria was just bricks and walls. That's really all it was. I would constantly feel scared. Will I ever be safe? Will I last another day? When I came to Canada nothing was the same. A house wasn't just a structure that had been made. It felt like a home where no one could hurt me or make me feel torn. When I walked in I was filled with joy. There were four walls. That's all I needed, a place that could fit many memories. Now it’s 2025, it's been 9 years. I remember every single memory like my first day of school when I made lots of friends, when me and my dad made our first cake and ate it all the following day. As well as learning how to write my name, and playing with my brother and my sisters (hide and go seek is the best feeling for being safe and free). And I can’t forget about my mom’s delicious food: shawarma sembusek, kunafa, and many more! And at night when I have my pillow I lay my head down nice and warm here in my bed. I'm so thankful for all the happiness and joy that Canada gave me to enjoy. When I grow up I want to pay Canada back and help them as much as I can. Thank you Canada!