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Home 

By Haley H., 14

Falling in love with a country 
is like finding your best friend 
a sense of belonging 
Encompassing 
All. 
Heavenly. 
Bliss. 
Refuge, haven and home. 
An unbreakable soul tie 
A joy which ignites your soul 
Your happy place, 
delighting the desires of your heart 
Home was the apartment building in my charming and verdant complex. The country beholding subway, taxi, and bus, 
the beauty of public transportation. 
Cherry blossoms in the spring, 
A blanket of snow draping my neighborhood in the heart of winter, Perfect seasons. 
Abundance of shrimp cabbage dumplings and steamed pork buns, Chopsticks carrying purple grains of rice. 
Tenth floor, ten years to cherish, 
age ten when I moved to the U.S. 
A season of change, the friendship between my beloved country slowly….
slipping away 
Stepping out of LAX airport, 
English flows out of tongues. 
The sun always radiating heat in summery California, 
Yet not once does the golden star stop for the sky to snow like it did back home in China. The culture shock of American school, American supermarkets, 
America. 
White faces, 
Everywhere. 
Shame of my ethnicity, 
of being Chinese American. 
Utter loss and sorrow. 
Where do I belong? 
Where is home? 
Two lives, two cultures, two years until I embrace the truth. 
Home is where my family is. 
Because ended friendships are not necessarily broken friendships that have been lost. Sometimes when seasons change, you learn to embrace, 
To. 
Let. 
Go. 
You learn more than one way to move on, 
To cherish 
memories of home.

Upland, California