The Street I Grew Up On

The two-story red brick house that sat in the middle of the cul-de-sac appeared commonplace among the other five houses in a pocket of suburbia. The physicality of each house was almost identical; each was two stories tall, had a perfectly polished lawn and seemed to sparkle when the sun hit the roof a certain way. A naive child, I saw no difference between my residence and the other five on the street, but looking back I realize that each house was made a home in an entirely different way. My home was characterized by a family of five; we always had our differences, but we had a powerful bond that was apparent to others. My home seemed to be a magnet to the other children on the street. I naively thought my siblings and I were the most popular kids on the block, but now I realize that the other children were intrigued by the ordinary red brick house made a warm home by a family who loves and cares about each other.