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Write On: Lea Willems / My House, My Home

 

My House, My Home by: Lea Willems

Essay by: Lea Willems

Roseau Community School

Mrs. Didrikson, Advanced English 11

Home, to me, is my house itself, not just the things and the beings within it, like my parents, my pets, or my clothes. This is because home to me is a place where your happiest memories live out their days in peace. And believe me, the house I live in holds memories, upon memories, upon memories which I don't think I will ever forget.

Home for other people could simply be a group of friends. Home can also be an object, or a piece of clothing. I have things like that too. My friends, wherever they are, could almost be my home. They are able to make me happier than any other people in the world can. Home can also be about wrapping up snug in a blanket. I have at least five or more blankets, and on a cold evening my favorite thing to do is curl up in a blanket or three and then do just about anything. My choir jacket, too, could almost be my home. My jacket, for one thing, is comfortable, and also a constant reminder of all the amazing memories choir has given me. There are countless more things which I could name, that are almost home, but what I wrote above are some of my favorites.

My true home is my house, the building I come back to every day. I have only lived in one house-- two if you count my toddlerhood home. That house was out in Washington state, but that house hasn't ever been home to me. I don't remember it, not at all. For others though, it could be far more than just two houses that they have lived in. It could be three or four houses that they have called home. Not for me though, my house is in this little town I call home.

 

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