Home. I grew up a poor girl in the projects of Brooklyn, NY. When I was a teenager, we were homeless and bounced around the couches of family members and the homeless shelter. By the time I met my husband, I was 19 and had lived in more that 20 different places. When we got married, he provided me a home.
Not just a house but a home. Some place that I could go wild and make it my own. Someplace that we could fill with love. Some place, that if you examined every corner, you would find a little bit of us. Some place where you can read the chapters of our life story together. I’m so thankful for my home.