“What just appeared in your mind when I mentioned ‘home’ to you?”

 

That was the first question I asked her.

 

To find out other possibility of “home”, I went to my roommate and best friend, Mila.

 

Like many who came all the way across the ocean to seek their study in Canada, Mila always think about her home far away in China. 

 

However, home never means singular to her. Although Mila spent most of her time in Beijing as a native, as we talked about home, she kept thinking about the memory staying at her grandma’s house in Shenyang, a winter city in northern China. 

 

“Never think about to let me explain that to you at once, the word is not that simple.” And she replied to me with a smile, but then lost in her thought.

 

It is probably difficult for everybody to pull out a direct definition of home at their first time, and Mila expressed such complexity by recalling subtle moments happened between her and her grandma.

 

And she finally gave me this thinking, that home is a box filled with her source of secure, something she sees, and hopes to be eternal, just like those ordinary days spent with her grandma, and everything with familiarity.

 

“I prefer to talk in our mother language, only this way will I be able to find my feeling of home.” She said.

 

We never truly see ordinaries, things and people that are familiar in our lives, but they could always make up our sense of security, which has another name, home.