Love My Home

My favorite place I can remember in my early childhood was my grandpa’s house. I loved being able to go there and hunt. He was He always used to have some of the best coyote, rabbit, deer, and pheasant hunting I can ever remember. I loved riding horse over the rolling hills west river chasing and branding cattle. The people there are different, they help each other or loan something to somebody for no cost. They don’t demand money for their deeds and it just seems around here that is getting to be unheard of. I would go back there in a heartbeat at any time if I could.

Everyone has a favorite holiday. There is Valentine’s Day, St. Patrick’s Day, the Fourth of July, Halloween, Thanksgiving, and then there is everyone’s favorite- Christmas! Christmas comes with the feeling of warmth, of family, and of home. What happens, though, if all one ever knew during Christmas time was completely changed? What happens if home just is not home anymore? Sandra M. Castillo addresses that situation that actually occurred in her own life in her poem, “Christmas, 1970.” Castillo moved from Cuba to the United States in 1970 and as an eight-year old she reveals her true feelings during and about the Christmas season. Throughout the poem, she reveals a theme of what home means to her, written in her point of view as she sits under her aunt’s Christmas tree at her aunt’s apartment. Castillo uses devices like symbolism, imagery, and flashback to support her them that no one can return to their childhood home.

Bright clear white snow on the ground for almost half the year, fireplaces roaring in every home, drinking hot chocolate while reading an interesting book. These were all experiences and sights that had been well accepted and standard where I formerly subsisted. However, the hot summers of Texas differ greatly compared to the frozen state of Minnesota. I learned to dress myself differently depending on which season it is. All of the snow gear we owned has been given away for others to use. I enjoyed snow and the crisp air we received in the North. The environment that we moved to was drastically altered compared to my previous, and it was challenging to

The only state I have ever known as home is North Carolina. I was born and raised in Charlotte and the only time I have ever moved away was last year to start a new chapter of my life as a college student. Growing up in Charlotte has had such an impact on what I plan to do with my future. As a young child I always thought of Charlotte as the next best thing to New York City. I shortly realized after visiting that was not quite the case. New York City introduced me to a new world of opportunity.

Nolensville, Tennessee. The place I call home. I have lived here for the past five years, and although I have not loved every second of it, it has grown to be a place I love to call home. I mostly grew up in Brentwood, Tennessee until I was 13 and got the news we were moving to a new town. I would have to change to new schools and make new friends while having to move houses too.

On an online news article, “Home’s where I belong” written by Kelly Makiha, she states “there is no place like home” (Rotorua Daily Post). She says this because she goes back to where she grew up and feels like she is back home. She talked about how she hated living there as a kid, but now she can appreciate where she grew up because she’s been far away from it for a long time. I can relate to this because when I lived back in Modesto, I hated it and thought it was so boring. Now when I go back to visit it, I think to myself how could I have hated this place, but miss it so much?

Finally, the main reason to move myself to Texas is my parents lives there. If I move to Texas, I am near to my parents which can increase my moral support and I can feel more attached with them. As the days passes, they are growing older. Therefore I can help them with their health issues and I can take care of them. My parents are retried so i don't need any babysitter of my kids. And my kids can be shower with all love and care of their grandparents.

I live on a beautiful island in the Caribbean with pristine white beaches and turquoise waters. People save their pennies and their vacation days for a chance to visit where I call home now. Moving from a vibrant city filled with young professionals and happy hours galore. Always something to do, somewhere to be, someone to meet and full with many opportunities.

The main theme of this week is about figuring out how people live in Texas and how different to live in various locations. Therefore, I have already done the survey of 3 different Texans who speak perfectly Standard English and found out there are some similarities and differences. First, the people who live in big cities such as Austin and Dallas don’t have so many names for the bugs in the grass. Second, the people live in suburb region rarely hear or use the phrase “fixing to or I’m fixing to go to town.” Third, all of the participants have no solid definition for the sour milk. Last but not least, people who live in big city rate the place they live as “excellent” comparing to other areas.

I spent my childhood in Suburban Connecticut, and my teenage years in Florida. Both places effected my outlook on life and my personality in different ways, especially because my experiences in both places was very different. In Connecticut, we felt the effect of a climate with four discreet seasons — and many of my conceptions of family life still have seasonal associations. Raking leaves and picking apples during the autumn; ice-skating with my sister during winter; how good it felt to slink off our scarfs and heavy coats in the spring; and the sadness of leaving my parents to go away to summer camp. Eventually moving to Florida, at age 15, the things I missed the most was the excitement of seasons changing. We had the sun year-round their

Snow began to fall outside of the city of Long Beach, Washington. The lighthouse, nearly half a mile away illuminated the dull grey sky, creating reflections in the bright white snow, turning the city into something of a fairytale. Orange lights from the street cast through the snow and ice, accented by blues, greens and reds from the highly decorated houses spread out around the city, a certain glow encased the entirety of the town and filled all with a feeling of hope and awe. This seemingly empty city, left silent in the few remaining hours before dawn was truly a wonderland for the heart, the mind and the soul.

San Francisco and Richmond, California, San Antonio, Texas and Mobile, Alabama. Each have their own special place in my heart because of the beautiful memories made with my family and friends.

Fragrant Hills is the most welcoming town in America. No smile fails to rise at a newcomer, and each and every happy citizen never fails to greet their neighbors on their morning walks, which is a beloved hobby of most citizens. The cheer is especially high when the cool air of spring first gives way to the warm embrace of May. The old folk happily walk their dogs on the sidewalk and enjoy the beautiful green trees blowing peacefully in the soft wind. Children skip home from school, eagerly awaiting the time they can throw off their backpacks and spend all of summer with their friends and fun.

It is no doubt about it that everyone has somewhere that they have adapted to long enough to call it there home! A place they can relax and really be their selves, for some it may have been their grandparents house, aunties house or wherever they felt comfortable. Well I of course felt comfortable in my own home, a four bedroom house on the west side of North Miami. My home in Miami was perfect I had my own room, I was very comfortable there, and it was a place to get away from the world.

What does one call a place where they feel safe? A place where one is surrounded by loved ones? A place where one can forget the worries of the world for even a brief moment. A place where no matter what happens, they will always have a place to return to. They have the deepest of connections with those that live there; connections that they know will never be severed no matter what happens. That is home. Home can be defined as where a person lives or has a permanent residence, but it is more than that when pondering on the emotional connection it has with the heart. A common phrase that is constantly used is “there is no place like home”. It is not because a person misses their previous residence, but due to the many qualities it possesses that could possibly never be found anywhere else. Home is not simply a place where one lives, but a place where love, contentment, and tranquility are abound.