Just a thought i was having tonight as I was at the home a friend of mine. In my opinion, the difference between a house and a home is a family. As much as I love my roommates and I enjoy where we’re living and it is a more and more enjoyable place to live all the time… it will never be home. For the simple reason that my family is not here. I don’t think it could be home even if Taylor moved in. I think there is something about the unity, the blessings that are bestowed upon a family that make their places of residence a home rather than just a house. I’m sure this doesn’t apply to all homes. I’m sure that there are some kids who would consider the streets a better home than their houses because of domestic violence or drug abuse or whatever the problems may be. But I guess again you have to define family. A friend of mine once wrote that “a family is the people you love and want to help and learn from.”Perhaps by that definition of family my apartment could become a home (as per my definition)… however, I think there is still something a little bit more powerful about the strength of an eternal family unified together.
Anyways, being in a real live home again made me think of those things.
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