Home

Home. Somehow, I never understood its charm while I was living here. Not that it's an especially charming building. No wildflowers, no babbling brooks, not even a secret garden. We tried to grow a small patch of vegetables once, but the bugs and the heat commandeered it before we reaped any benefits. Yet there is a feeling here that I just don't get anywhere else. It's not that I miss having free room and board and fewer responsibilities. I actually love being independent, even if real life isn't as carefree as living at home. I love my roommates, my ward, my job, my major. My life at BYU is wonderful, and, generally, I would rather be in Provo than in Mesa. Yet every time I come home, it feels like the piece of my that I leave here realigns with the most of me that I take everywhere else, and I am a complete person again. I think the difference has something to do with these people.

I can only hope that someday, my children will be as happy and as comfortable in my home as I am here.