To me , home is every thing. home is the door that opens to welcome us in. it’s the delicious smell of the food mom cooks in the kitchen which makes our mouths water. It’s the giant comfy bed where we lay to rest our bodies after a long day of work. It’s the one huge blanket that we tuck under seeking worm in the cold winter nights. Home is our own special corner with our own books and treasures, our own thoughts. Home is a kiss and a band-aid for a little cut...and a shoulder to lean on for the big hurts. It's a place for growing things.. plants blossoming, pets, people. There's a room where everyone gathers to work, to play, or just to be together. It’s the place where we learned how to live, love, forgive, forget, and face the world. It’s he only place where we find peace, the only place where we can be ourselves. It’s what gives us the strength to do what ever we want to do. It’s the reason of our existence, it’s the land to defend, the people to love, and the life to live. Home is the little moments which we’ll always remember, no matter what they were, happy or sad. It's where you make plans today and watch dreams come true tomorrow.
Home dose not only mean the shelter that has a roof ...It can mean your country your City your family and loved ones , everything that you consider Home
3 comments:
I feel what you say......howevere, I've come to believe that home....is where our true beloved ones live....w bass, regardless of anything else!
Nice post, by the way!
I've moved around too much to know where home is.
I have special moments in many places, I have made plans in many places, and I dreamt in others. I loved people in different countries.
I lived under many roofs, slept in different beds, and got comfortable in many blankets.
I don't know where home is anymore. It is confusing and frustrating at times, exciting at other times (mostly confusing and frustrating though). Yet, for some reason, something always pulls me towards Syria!
I do not know Damascus very well and I have never lived there (I lived in other parts of Syria), but I feel at home walking through its streets. Is it because people speak my language and have my accent? It does not make sense.
I believe no matter who you are, or where u are... 'home' has the same feeling for everyone.. and i don't mean meaning.. for me, being at home, is just that. "being". loved the way you put your thoughts across
Cheers!
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