Home, my sweet home
Home, My Sweet home There is no denying the fact that when our time comes to die, we should not behave like those whose hearts are filled with fear of death, so that when their time comes they weep and pray for a little more time to live their lives over again in a different way. We should sing our death song, and die like a hero going home. The palpable image that comes to our cognizance when the expression ‘Home’ is perceived is of an edifice, chalet or a bed-sitter. A home cannot be just defined by a structure with a collection of rooms inside, for some it can also be their smartphones or even their refugee camp. According to Melody Bettie,” Gratitude unlocks the fullness of life. It turns what we have into enough, and more. It turns denial into acceptance, chaos to order, confusion to clarity. It can turn a meal into a feast, a house into a home, a stranger into a friend”. A home is customarily distinct and comforting for any person but for realism of pedagogy, childr