There I was, sipping a cup of tea with mint and lots of sugar and admiring the rain through my small window. The winter session was just around the corner and my thoughts took me to a place filled with nostalgic memories of my family, which led to tears flowing down my face. The rain and my tears started falling concurrently while a beautiful picture of my family running and smiling started forming in my mind. I can still hear my mom calling my name, "Bilal come, come and play,"" while she and my siblings played in the courtyard. I can still remember long walks with my father from the beach to our house talking about business. Everyone has a different definition of home but for me, Home is a place where my Lebanese soul is, surrounded by love and comfort, a place where I have created many special memories with my family and loved ones. Home, for me, isn't just walls and doors. Home, for me is where my loved ones are. The people that know me inside out and will give up their life for me if they have to. After I came here to United States I began to realize the importance of having a home and its impact on a person. No matter if I have a huge castle to live in, it will not be called a home until my loved ones to are there to accompany me. Home is a place where I also feel comfortable to be who I am. I might act like a different person outside my house, but when I am home I can be myself. The sense of being comfortable is one of the biggest attributes of a home.
I am Bilal; I come from Lebanon, a small country that is considered to be one of the smallest countries in the world, but it's known as the Switzerland of the Middle East due to its beauty. I lived with my family for eighteen years,until I left them to pursue my education here in the United States. My family and I lived in a city where the aroma of oranges lurked in every corner; I can visit Tripoli, a city where Phoenician, Ottoman, and French history are still alive anytime I wish.