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Home is a place that we carry inside of us. We can make a home anywhere, if we need to, and want to. It’s funny, recently, when our house flooded, I went to a motel for about 10 days. Sometimes I would come back to our house to check on things, and then I would mention to my my husband that I was “going home.” Going home? I WAS home, or at least I was at my house. Why would I refer to the motel as “going home?” Because I was thinking of home as the place I was going to settle into for a time. Home is carried in my heart. Whenever I go to a motel, I do something that others might consider strange. I always put some special touches in the room. Last time I bought myself some flowers, and I put a battery operated fountain on the table in the room. I had a few items that I had purchased at a thrift store that day (a beautiful rose creamer, and some silk roses and lace) and I placed them as decorative touches around the room. And suddenly it felt like…you guessed it…home. ) So home to me, is something I carry in my heart, but I will create a warm and a cozy feel wherever I go, and I will surround myself with beautiful, meaningful things. I will always have my books, and my Bible, and paper to write on, and a pen. If I don’t have anything else, I’ll decorate my room with a perfume bottle and a scarf. I have to do something to make it mine…to make it feel like home. I am certain that wherever I go for the rest of my life, I will do this. And for me, that will be home.

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