What is a Home?

When I was 3, I lived in Nanjing. I remember this ancient city wall from 14th-century, and a beautiful lake named Xuanwu, a black dragon. Grandma used to take me to the park beside the city wall. She put me on her lap when boating on the lake. I like Nanjing. I believed that was my home. When I was 5, I lived in Winnipeg. The house mom bought seemed nice and cozy. But is this my home? Without the city wall, the lake, and grandma? I was not sure. When I was 7, I was concerned if grandma was more than 10,000 kilometers away, how could we celebrate the Chinese New Year, a festival about family reunion? When mom finally finished setting up the table for the reunion dinner, she started a video chat with grandma. We chatted and laughed while we ate, just like we were together. Now I felt this was more like a home. When I was 9, grandma came to visit. Mom bought a used camper. We cleaned, equipped and decorated the camper until it was ready to hit the road. Nestled between towering trees, the campsite sat beside a sparkling stream, its gentle flow creating a soothing melody that danced through the air. As the sun set, the sky was painted in hues of gold and lavender, casting a warm glow over the tranquil landscape, while the distant rustling of leaves and chirping of crickets weave a melody of peace and serenity. "Only if we can move here! " I raved. Mom smiled to me while she started the campfire. Grandma tossed some dried twigs into it. "Home is where we park this camper." mom said. Now I am almost 11. I think I know what a home is. Home is just where my families are!