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When reminiscing about my childhood a home is hard to recall. It seemed common for others to have a place called home. Moving from house to house was not the problem, but the empty feeling. Home to me was my grandparent’s house. I spent nearly all of my childhood there. My grandparents bought the one story house with two bedrooms in the early seventies. From the spacious bedroom, to the kitchen with endless possibilities and the way I spent my time this house defined my character. After adopting my mom my grandparents realized more space was needed. My grandpa built a second story onto the house with the help of my uncles. Deep brown and red bricks cover the bottom half exterior of the house, while caramel colored wood covers the top half. A rustic brick walkway corresponds with the exterior walls. The walkway leads to a chestnut colored door. Through the door is the entryway with mahogany colored wood floors. …show more content…
The kitchen is my most loved place in the house. I learned numerous skills in my grandma’s kitchen. Skills that supported who I am today and I hadn’t even realized it. I baked and cooked with my grandma every chance I got. During the summer it was difficult to convince her since it was so hot. Learning how to measure out ingredients was generally my job. However, I sometimes would give her the wrong measurement. When I gave her the incorrect measurement I would always apologize. After apologizing so many times my grandma finally said “ Do not apologize, only apologize for things you actually are sorry for.” Fortuitously what she said really encouraged me. In my life there were many things I could have apologized for to make someone else happy. From the lesson my grandma taught me I refuse to apologize for something I don’t feel I should apologize for. My grandma was the one person who taught me to be tough and not to hide my greatness for others to be happy. I owe my confidence to my grandmother and that
...et, a social status and a link to our past. The Prehistory of home read like a narrative to human history and not just about the houses we built throughout time. As I read “The Prehistory of Home” I realized I was reading the history and evolution of humans in the last million years. Homes can mean more than increased storage: human shelters, Social status or a place to hang. It can have richly diverse names such as shack, kraal, cabin, chalet, igloo, shanty, condo and many more. As I read through the 12 chapters of this amazing book I feel more connected to my past and found new respect for the human race. As a home owner myself I feel that the first brick of my home was laid long before my time and what I have achieved today is but a mere footstep on our journey of life.
Everyone always has a safe place in their hearts for their homes. Home doesn’t always have to be a place where someone just sleeps in. However, home to some people is where they feel comfort. Somewhere or someplace can be one’s home. Some of the characters in Enrique’s Journey by Sonia Rozario and The Odyssey by Homer express the theme of home through an emotional journey. Enrique’s Journey is about a boy named Enrique who goes on a journey to find his beloved mother who he has believed abandoned him. The Odyssey is about a mythology where a hero named Odysseus tries to find his way back to his homeland after participating in a war. Odysseus from The Odyssey shows the theme of home by trying to return home to his family. Enrique from Enrique’s Journey shows the theme of home by looking for his mother who he considers to be his home. Telemachus in The Odyssey shows home when he decides to go find his father,
Upon renovating the quaint little house on the hill with my mom, my own feelings toward the house changed dramatically. Before the project took off, I hesitated to step foot inside the building. The odor and dim lighting made it difficult to envision a successful result, but once we finished I was tempted to move in myself. This is the goal. Taking on this second project, I’d do my best to make the house one I’d love to live in while not allowing myself to implement my personal style preferences. The result is a home both move-in ready and open for visitors.
When you think of home, most of the time thoughts of love, warmth and family come to mind. Although a drab exterior , it is no difference for the thousands of people who reside in the Robert Taylor Homes on the Southside
The home in which a child lives in is suppose to be a place of warmth, love, and protection. A home also offers other important aspects into a child’s life, for instance, self-confidence, pride, and security. If a child does not reside in a home that offers warmth, love, and protection, that child will not feel good about herself or the home in which she lives in. A child wants a home that he or she can be proud of enough to bring home a friend or two. In addition, if a child does not feel safe and secure in his or her home, then she will not posses these qualities in the outside world. Moreover, their lack of security can cause major disruptions and distractions within their everyday routine, like with Sandra. For example, the homes that Lena and Sandra live in illustrate the exact opposite of each other.
Imagine your first home. The place where you lived right after you were born. Where you took
Home is not a place where you took shelter, were raised up in, an address to, or where you currently live in. Home is family, friendship, comfort, and belonging. With that, comes the journey every individual faces to not only realize this, but also to get to a point where the individual truly feels at home. Which is exactly what Toni Morrison teaches us in her book, Home, through the narration and eyes of Frank Money, the main character. Frank Money is a poor, male, African American veteran that has been placed in a mental hospital. In which, he must escape from in order to save his sister, Cee, from a life threatening danger. While on this journey, Frank learns to grow from his past experiences and memories of his childhood and fighting in
For many years I would pass by the house and long to stop and look at it. One day I realized that the house was just that, a house. While it served as a physical reminder of my childhood, the actual memories and experiences I had growing up there were what mattered, and they would stay with me forever.
Home is experienced in a multitude of ways using our senses. Impressions of our past and present homes materialize from a familiar smell, sight, feeling, taste or sound. We all live in a multi-sensory environment, where we can use one or more of our senses on a daily basis to absorb our surroundings. However, it is easily arguable that although each sense can conjure up a memory, or imprint a grasp of where we live or lived, certain senses are stronger with the recollection or the feelings we have of our home. If we live in the same home as other people, some of us will associate a certain smell to the home, while others will not; or a sound, etc., that I would not associate with that home. I will be pursuing the reasons why we absorb our environments
I remember reading one book about home, the author use a few examples to show what his ideal home was. The author used one multimillionaire as an example, one day the multimillionaire was found by a policeman near his house drunk. The police offer to drive him home, he replied: “Home? I don’t have a home.” When the policeman asks him about his house he said “That’s not my home, that’s just where I live.” According to the author most of multimillionaire’s family has died he lived along all by himself. The author also used another example of a man whose family got drafted apart by a civil war, after 20 years he finally found his daughter, the man instant burst with tears and said, “I’ve finally got a home again.” I believe that home means more than just a place for shelter and for family storage any more. A lot of people are still happy when they are living in cardboard boxes because they are living with the ones who they love and love them back. Without the love the house could not be comfortable at all. Statistics show that the leading cause of suicide among youth and teens are family violence. They often can’t find comfort in both home and school, and can’t find hopes in life.
We said goodbye to our old house at noon. We unpacked the moving truck and emptied boxes. My new room was upstairs, it was the biggest one with a great view of the park behind our house. Everyone was happy. We all had our own rooms, but It didn't feel right. I missed our old house, having the basement all to myself. I hated walking up and down the twenty curved stairs to get to my room. We wanted a bigger house, but this one was a little too big. We had empty spaces everywhere, but it was too late. This was the house that my parents said they will live in the rest of their life, meaning I will live there until I go to
It was late when the green bakkie stopped in front of the old farm house. The sun was shining her last orange warmth on the horizon. Three of us were sitting on the front seat and two more native men were on the back of the bakkie. Varum was the only Indian (koelie as they were called by the Boere). Then Funani blew the hooter five times. An overgrown white giant came walking out followed by two colored boys (Eurafricans.).
If you ask anyone what home means to them more than likely you’ll get several different opinions. In my case home has never been a specific place it’s always been wherever my mom was! My Mother and I have been moving from place to place ever since I could remember.
It’s hard to imagine all the events that led up to ourselves coming into the world or at least it is hard to some people. When I think about all my ancestors that had to survive all the things I read about in textbooks it’s a miracle we are all here. Trying to learn about all the people in my family’s tree was interesting to know how my ancestors came about, what they did, and how long they lived. I learned mostly about my mother’s side of the family who have lived and flourished in andrews, texas where I am from. I haven’t done anything great yet but I am hoping when my grandchildren have to write about me they have something awesome to write about and will think I did something good with my life.
As I approach the island on which my dream house awaits, I catch a quick