Descriptive Essay : Home Sweet Home

I have spent my entire life in America, born and raised in the land of the free. When I was twelve years old, my brother and I visited Somalia with my father. My father wanted to take us there so that we would have some knowledge of where he came from. It was summer 2010 and there was a war going on in South Somalia (a conflict that is still going on today). Somaliland is in Northern Somalia, my father would not take us where we wouldn 't be safe. Although the war was not in our area, the tensions from the war did affect the atmosphere of the village. On the way to Somaliland from the airport in Addis Ababa, Ethiopia, my

Before we got on our plane we picked up some food and sodas. While eating we began to reminisce in the memories we had in ethiopia. We told our dad we wanted to stay. Holding back a tear he told us this was the best for us. We grabbed our orange sodas and got ready for our flight. I looked out the window looking at the city, all the lights made me think i was looking at what i thought was new york city. I looked out the window and shed a tear knowing i wouldn't be back for a while.

The perspective which I upheld about my childhood city of Tripoli Lebanon remained unchanged for the largest portion of my young life. Until a planned visit alongside my family in 2012. It would be only my second visit since my initial immigration to Canada in 2006. During this presumably safe trip, a vicious civil war occurred only two weeks into our vacation. Bombs went off, streaks of bullets zoomed by, televisions and radios blared as the extended family anxiously listened to the news. But that’s not the Tripoli I know. The Tripoli I know is the thriving markets, historic sites, crashing blue waves on the shore and close knit families and neighbourhoods. It’s the same Tripoli which has shaped my identity as I have been surrounded by a never ending learning experience

This is a terrible tragedy, but it brings us face to face with the reality that even in the most innocent of situations, if a gun is involved, there is the possibility of death.

This incident in called the Sandy Hook Shooting. This was a day where kids went to school not knowing they would not come home. Many innocent children lost their lives in this incident. None of them ever knew what would happen on one Friday night. “At about 9:30 a.m., as announcements were read over the loudspeaker to the student's, shots were heard across the school. Students described being ushered into bathrooms and closets by teachers after hearing the first shots.” No young kid or anyone else should have to witness anything about this type of situation. “Lanza moved toward two classrooms of kindergartners and first-graders, police said. In one classroom was Lauren Rousseau, a substitute teacher who was filling in for a teacher out on maternity leave. The gunman shot all 14 students in the classroom, law enforcement officers said.” 28 people died is this shooting. Including the shooter and the shooters

When asked if you explored, as per CW policy and procedure, whether impending danger safety threats existed, you responded it was a “fair conversation to have that (the children) could have been unsafe.”

The smell of panic deep within all of us , it was so unexpected, one minute Cheryl, Jackie, and I are fine and next we are all panicking for our lives trying to protect each other from dying , where did our savings go? I was scared and we were all screaming and running, I couldn’t hear a damn thing and the things I seen I would’ve never expected to , kids being shot that were enjoying celebrating their birthday , couples going on a date, us chatting about what we were excited to see next half injured and half of them dead. Me and Cheryl ended up running so fast from the shooter that we lost Jackie so we were crying hysterically looking for her then when we found her she was dead on the ground , I would’ve never have expected to see a best friend of mines dead by 21 , we had so many plans and now here she was on the floor shot and dead, that's when Cheryl grabbed me like a mad person , she told me that we needed to go now but me I couldn’t just leave Jackie dead like that and that was when the shooter took his last shots before feeling in a car , shooting Cheryl in her two legs leaving her handicapped for

Attention getter- Have you ever been forced to leave your hometown without committing any crimes or doing something wrong? Imagine yourself waking up one day, seeing that you are in the middle of the war with people running around and screaming for their lives. Such incident may seem very unlikely to happen to you however, the people of Syria have been experiencing it for almost everyday of their lives. .

The word ‘home’ is something that is often misunderstood. Home makes up your identity and not many people know that. Therefore you ask me, ‘what is home?’ Home is not just in your house. Home is a place that surrounds you. It’s you environment and cause for emotions. Your home is where you are with the people that surround you (peers, family, and strangers), as well as cars, houses, stores, and/or toys.

What is home? If one looks in a dictionary the answer would come out to be, “The place where one lives permanently, especially as a member of a family or household.” However, for anyone who has had an actual home, they would know that such a term goes much beyond its concrete description. It is an impassioned aspect filled with values and foundation of nurturing. A home is not just an abode built to live in; in fact, that is just a definition of a house. Home is a place where one not only feels comfortable, but a place they look forward to opportunely live in every day. A home is built not by bricks or wood, but with the bond of family. A home is a place that reminds a person of countless memories and values when he walks through a

In a matter of fact, home is a noun that is defined in the -Collins

The fleeting changes that often accompany seasonal transition are especially exasperated in a child’s mind, most notably when the cool crisp winds of fall signal the summer’s end approaching. The lazy routine I had adopted over several months spent frolicking in the cool blue chlorine soaked waters of my family’s bungalow colony pool gave way to changes far beyond the weather and textbooks. As the surrounding foliage changed in anticipation of colder months, so did my family. My mother’s stomach grew larger as she approached the final days of her pregnancy and in the closing hours of my eight’ summer my mother gently awoke me from the uncomfortable sleep of a long car ride to inform of a wonderful surprise. No longer would we be returning

Home is the place one spends more time in their life and share special moments with family. Where one expects to live permanently carefree and feel protected under the roof of their house. One day I want to have a home that makes me feel well and where I can be safe and happy. The purpose of this essay is to illustrate the decisions I made about designing my future dream house.

During 5th grade year of 2016, almost once every week my parents would go and look for a house. I would remind them everyday that the house we have is great and there is no need to find another. In that house I have lived there at least eight years, which is most of my life so far. Till this day it has always been my favorite house, and the perfect house. I have made so many memories there it is impossible to count. I loved it.

When one thinks about their “home”, they get a comfortable feeling, happiness, tranquility, etc. Now, the feeling that I get when I’m at home is stress, an unknown place, sadness in which causes me to want to escape and live in a fantasy world in my mind. My house isn’t a home to be in or live in at all due to the sour relationship my stepfather has towards me, the confinement and misery, and finally the treatment I receive at home. First, my stepfather and I have a sour relationship due to his fault because he treats me like trash and always talk bad things about me behind my back to my mother or siblings. However, when my mother is home he does not say a word or treat me like dirt but recently my mother has noticed that all he does is talk about me and how I’m no good and he tries to persuade my siblings to hate me. But let’s get one thing straight, even if my siblings resent me which they don’t but if they did, they would know the whole truth about their father and who he really is, for he is the devil. I’m not as a simile, I’m saying it because it is the truth. My stepfather might look like an angel and a person who would seem like they could not hurt a fly but, if he has the chance he will do it behind your back. He made me feel like I lived in hell, in a confinement and misery for he didn’t allow me to text, have friends or even hang out with them. Lastly, he said I couldn’t have a boyfriend and the time he figured I was talking to a guy he went all crazy and