Monday, October 19, 2015

What Home Means to Me

Home used to mean a lot to me. The term home brings the thought of the deep woods, a warm fire place and a small furry dog to mind. This is how I used to define home. 

As I've gotten older, home has morphed past the physical. Physically the wood walls that my dad and his brothers built with his own two hands will be the only home I know. As I got older thought, I realized that life would take me a lot of places. Some of these places good, others of them bad. Whenever life became too noisy I had my quiet place that I could always escape to.  Deep in the woods away from the noisy world.

As time went along, I realized that home meant more to me than the physical house. My home is the people who push me to be better. These people also push me to be crazy. But I don't mind it. 
My dad my sister, and myself

My mom and my sister

My grandparents 

Overall, I believe that home is a feeling. It is the feeling I get when I see sunflowers. Every time I see men cutting wood to prepare for the long winter, women hand making bread, and  yellow canaries. These items are simply visual reminders. Home comes most alarmingly to me in smell. In feelings when the snow slowly creeps in and the fire burns out. This is my home. Animals are my windows and people are my doors. 


  1. I love this! I took this assignment a similar way as you, home is a feeling. I really like the personal side you took on the assignment and think that it resinates with a lot of people-- I wrote about "family" being my home and found similar similarities in your writing, good work!

  2. Yes! Home is where the heart is, right?? It's nice to hear about your family and pets, they sound great!


Just keeping things on the up and up since this is for my students to communicate first.