My house is big, but not very cozy. The walls seem to echo when I’m having a bad day. The floors are shiny and I watch as little specks of invisible dust roll across. The furnace is yelping in sudden need to be released from its cage. Being alone in this house is the worst of all. For it’s not the walls and locks that protect us from the outside world, it’s the people living in it. Suddenly my house becomes home when my family arrives. The walls no longer echo. The furnace is no longer yelping, but rather sighing in relief. My house is only home when I am with my people. When I’m alone, it’s just a house.