A Christmas Memory

Capote describes a humble abode on a frigid November evening that makes me think of my own home and the similarities it has with Capotes home. The frost on all the windows in my house builds during the day until I arrive home dragging my feet through my heavy dark brown front door with the gold handle and lock, once saunter in the rich smell of mahogany and leather bound books fills my nostrils and I immediately think of all the homework that I need to finish as I look to my right and see my school supplies on my kitchen table. The windows are a misty white color around the edges of the clear glass, that give off an orange yellow glowing tint as the fire in my heavy black wood burning stove slowly burns. With the cracking of the wood and being able to see the mist of my breath as I breathe I think of the holidays and how my Christmas was this year. It was composed of not much time spent with my family because of my parents’ divorce that is in progress and our family’s fighting situation. Capotes feelings of home seem to be similar to mine in the sense that he has little money to spend during the holidays. Home is wherever my friends are for me because of my parent’s situation. The sense of home in Capote’s writing can easily be explained by the good relationships he feels with his family members during a winter holiday. Relationships that I can somewhat relate too but to an extent. Capote's family makes him feel "at home", but for me this is not possible because the close family situation in Capote's case does not apply for me.