Is There a Place?

“What makes a home a home? Is it the house? The people? Perhaps it's the furniture and decorations? Could it be the atmosphere? The feeling one feels while they're there? Perhaps a home is home, when one has dwelt in it for long.”

Thoughts of what truly makes a hearth, clouded her troubled mind and she didn't seem to have the answer, yet the question like a ghost continued to haunt her. She knew she was in her ‘supposed home’, but this home wasn't homey as quarrels and conflicts painted the walls. Rumours and gossip entertained like the TV and radio. Envy and jealousy poisoned the atmosphere, enough to cause asphyxia. While dreams and aspirations carpeted the floors because people just walked all over whatever dreams anyone had.

This house was falling apart. It was anything but a hearth because it was lacking the heart. She was slowly starting to realise her hearthless state, and to continue in such a place would not leave her hurtless but could in fact make her heartless. For all creatures are a great deal affected by their environment and truly evil surroundings can corrupt a good heart. Then an enlightening thought struck her mind like a thunderbolt, a home is not determined by 'how long' one has dwelt therein but 'how much' one has dwelt therein. It became clear to her that it wasn't just about physical presence but the communal involvement of heart, mind and emotion. For what makes a home is family and heart.