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1st Place
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Kyle
St. Johns, Newfoundland
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What is a house? What is a home? There's a big difference, let me tell you!
A house is just a wooden structure put together by nails and wood. Who really cares about nails and wood. Not me, but if I did not have a house like alot of families I probably would, especially when that house becomes a home!
A home is a place where you feel warm and cozy. You have things around you that are special and have meaning, but most of all you are surrounded by people you love and who love you. A family makes a house a home by living in it and making it special.
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Runners-Up
Helen, Grade 5
North York, Ontario
I'm a street kid, a teenage runaway;
I escaped from abusive parents who're drunk everyday.
I use dope and sniff glue to take my pain away;
Addicted to substances, I'll do anything in order to pay.
A bus shelter is my home for the day.
I'm a battered spouse; scared with nowhere to stay.
I escaped from a violent spouse who beat me up everyday.
Kicked, beaten, burned or some other unimaginable way.
A cardboard box is my home for the day.
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Wynn, Grade 5
Brentwood Bay, British Columbia
What does home really mean to me? To me, home means not one, but many things. Most importantly, I believe that home means a secure, cheerful place where you are respected and loved. But what about the people without homes? Does it mean the same thing to them? Everybody deserves to know the true meaning of home. When I started writing this essay, I didn't think much about the meaning of home. But now, I have found out that home means more. Much more.
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Valérie, Grade 5
Cornwall, Ontario
My house is my home
It's not Napoleon's home
That's the place where I like to sleep
And allows me to get into my thoughts in deep
My home is like one giant closet
I can even setup my tent
It all can be tidy or messy
And we can cook because of electricity
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Maude, Grade 5
Princeville, Québec
Just a few meters from me, I see a beautiful home where there are all my joys, my sorrows and nightmares. Without any hesitation, I jumped in a crazy race. I stretch out my fingers to the door. I finally opened it. Inside I say to myself, all is warm and beautiful. I think without all these wonderful rooms, I would be sleeping on a rough blanket of mud, rock and asphalt.
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Ali, Grade 4
Chestermere, Alberta
At home, in the morning when I open my sleepy eyes, kick my bed covers off, walk over to the washroom, and switch on the lights, I do not stop to think of what it would be like to wake up under a wet bridge or a cold park bench, and not have a washroom close by to run to.
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