HOME

My home is not just walls, rooms, a tile floor, and a roof. It is a place where I can feel safe. When I am in my home, I feel like nothing bad can ever happen. Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to not have a safe place to come home to. For me its just not imaginable. I am so happy that my family has enough money for a nice cozy warm place to stay. Also, my home can keep me very warm or cool. In the winter my home keeps me toasty warm. On some nights it is so cold that I could get frostbite if I didn’t have a nice warm bed and a heated home. In the summer my house keeps me nice and cool. Some other people must find a spot in the shade so that they don’t get heatstroke. In the summer I can stay cool, and, in the winter, I can stay warm in my home. I am very thankful that I have a nice warm safe home with loving caring people. I am thankful that we have everything that we need like food water and warmth. I would be awfully crushed if my family didn’t have any of that. After school I am thankful to have a place to stay. A place to relax or to have fun. I am thankful to have a family with enough money for a house. A home is some thing to be thankful for. I don’t think its fair that some people don’t have homes. I am grateful that I have one, but I feel really truly bad for the people out there who don’t. more people should probably donate so that there are less people without homes. Some people think they don’t matter but think about how you would feel if you didn’t have a place to stay. If in the summer, you sweated too much. If in the winter, you almost got frostbite and all year round you starved. Maybe next time you say they don’t matter think again. I don’t have just one home I have two. One is where my mom lives, and the other is where my dad lives. At my moms’ house is where I usually stay. On Saturdays I stay at my dad’s home. At both homes I am safe and at both homes my parents love me. At both houses I can call it a home instead of just a house. When hear the word I think of a random house I’ve never seen before. But when I hear the word home I think of places where I feel safe. At my home this is what I see. I see my 6-year-old brother named Josh. I see my mom who believes in me with my dance. I see my dad on the couch and my grandma in the kitchen. Probably cooking a treat for us. But I also see the spot where my dog’s food dish used to sit and where she used to lay. Not long ago I used to see her every day. What I see in my home is very special. In my home I can smell my parents’ cooking food in the kitchen. My grandma also makes a lot of treats for us to eat. I also smell my mom’s lotion that she hides from me and my brother. I smell my brother’s stinky hockey bag after his practice. My dance costumes smell like rotten eggs because of a certain costume company. My dads room smells like old, musty, papers. But I keep mine smelling nice and fresh. So many scents in my home that I love. Thigs I hear in my home are my brothers video games when he turns them up loud. I hear nothing… when I sit in my closet with a nice book. Its so peaceful. I hear the oven timer when my dad is making a delicious dinner. I hear my alarm clock on the early mornings when I must get up early and go out somewhere. Sometimes it can be crazy and noisy at home, but other times it is the exact opposite.