1 Duramar

Essay Writing On My Home

My Dream House Essay

Home is place where we stay with our families and live safely. The saying ‘East or West, home is the best’ is true in many ways. The home or house gives us affection and security. For me my house is a best place for me in the world, where I stay with my mother, father, and two brothers.

We all live in a three-room flat on the ground floor. It is in a big and colony of the city. There is a large drawing-cum-dining hall, two bed rooms, kitchen and toilets. There is also a big veranda. My father took this home ten years ago when I was just four-year-old. It is large enough for all of us. We are just five persons in the family.

My house is built of bricks, iron, tiles and marbles. It has all the modern amenities of life. The bath room is also very large, airy and tiled. It has a shower. The floor of my house is fully marbled. The kitchen of my house is large and comfortable. It is near the living room. One of its door opens in a balcony. From there we have a beautiful view of a park and a playground which is inside our camps.

The drawing and dining rooms are tastefully decorated. The floor is covered with a thick woolen carpet, there are two big and beautiful paintings on the wall. We own a color TV set and a D.V.D. the dining table is circular in shape with thick glass covering it. The dining chairs are high and very comfortable. We also have a sofa set, a refrigerator, a washing machine, a computer.

In balcony there are a number of flower plants grown in big earthen pots. They include roses, jasmine, pagoda tree, chameli, tulsi, money plant, etc. they add to the beauty and grace of our house. We have 5 fans, air pressure fan and an air cooler. All these things make my house a beautiful and very nice place to live in.

My home is the most important place in my life. I feel fully safe and secure in my home. When I return from school I feel great comfort at my house. I love my sweet home.

Home is where I was raised. Where I played, laughed, cried, and learned. It is where I grew. Where I became me—a strong, intelligent woman—confident in myself, in my future and in my past.

I believe that a home is more than four walls and a roof over head. Home is an environment. It is the feeling that greets me when I walk through the door. It is the people who wait for me to get home. It is my dog whose hind end shakes back and forth when she gets excited because she has practically no tail. My home extends out of the walls and windows of my actual house. It goes down the cracked pavement to my grandparents’ house. It twists and turns with the broken roads of my town. My home is my rock solid foundation, and I will take it with me when I leave.

I believe that home is where individuals become themselves, not primarily physically but mentally. It becomes a mold that forms who they are. Behind the pizza place where I work, there’s a stream that runs into the river my town is built around. When it is a really busy night, I sneak down to the river for my precious 20-minute break, stepping carefully along the rocks to the edge of the river. There are cars and people on both sides of the stream, but the stream and I are invisible. Too busy to slow down, they pass me by and I am perfectly content in that moment. I feel at home.

Home for me is made of experiences—moments of my life that helped to change me and to teach me. For that reason, my home is also people and when home takes on a human form, it is called family. I believe that family is a relative term—nothing to do with blood, defined by relationships. When my grandmother died, her best friend, Nancy, became a family friend. She helped us get through the tough time and has become almost an adopted grandmother to my sister and me. I was three when she came into my life and now I would never think of saying that she is a family friend. She is family.

No matter where I go in the future, my foundation will always sit firmly in Maine, in this environment and with these people who have formed me as a person and taught me how to live. I know that I can always come home. After all, home is where the heart is.

Copyright © 2005-2018 This I Believe, Inc., all rights reserved. Please contact This I Believe, Inc., regarding reprints and permissions requests at https://thisibelieve.org/contact/.

Leave a Comment

(0 Comments)

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *