When I was a small and innocent toddler at the age of three, my mind raced with all types of questions, ideas, and mind-blowing discoveries that seemed trivial and rudimentary to the average adult. The zeal of life that flowed through my veins soon became exponentially amplified after going on vacation to a place "where dreams come true", Disney World. All the parks and all the sites to see overwhelmed my senses past their comprehensible brims and flooded me with pure joy. This intense happiness lasted for a couple of days, until I suddenly became unimaginably homesick one morning.

As the bright sun that hit my eyes, I saw the field of palm trees off in the distance as it blended in with the bright blue sky that filled my window view. As I got out of the bed my sister and I were sharing in the small hotel room, I thought to myself, another day in Florida meant another day going to the Magic Kingdom. However, another day in Florida meant another day away from sleeping in my old bed back, playing with my toys, watching TV, and being at home. This filled me with sadness. It brought upon me a melancholy gloom that soon became obvious to my parents. I could tell that they were catching on that I was homesick, but when they told me that we couldn't just fly back to Boston just yet, because we still had a few more days in Florida. I didn't know how I was going to make myself feel any better. All I would do was go to the window and look out and say, "I wanna go home."   

When my parents tried to buy me little souvenirs, it only cured my homesickness temporarily. My parents soon started to get annoyed at the fact that I wasn't as happy as our  first day in Florida. I wasn't the same excitement-filled kid I was just days ago. Later one day after returning back to our hotel from the amusement parks, my family and I passed a large vending machine that stood at the end of our floor in the hotel. My sister and I always would look at vending machines where ever we went, since we would always want to get something, but it was only on rare occasions that our begs were answered. Looking at the tower of snacks and sweets that were only separated from us by a glass panel, I had my eyes on a bottle of Nesquick chocolate milk and a bag of Cheetos (the two things that always accompanied my lunches at home).
The next morning, I woke up again feeling the same homesickness for the third day in a row. On the contrary to yesterday, my father had a plan this time. "Josh, how about we go out to the vending machine real quick." His statement astounded me, yet I was in no way ready to complain. "Ok." I responded. We both then went outside the hotel room, still in our pajamas, and walked down to the end of  the hall. There both of us stood, examining the contents of the machine with a vigil eye. "Do you want anything?" he asked me. Without hesitation I responded "Nesquick and Cheetos." My father was slightly baffled by my quickness and assertiveness in my response. Then, he reached into his wallet, grabbed an ample amount of dollars and coins, and slowly fed the machine until our purchase was fully paid for. He grabbed my commodities from the dispenser and handed then to me. I waited until we both got back into the room before I would dig into my reward. I sat down and asked my father to open the Nesquick bottle for me, since I was still too weak to crack the seal of the cap. After I finished my early breakfast, I suddenly felt content and had feeling that I was home again. That one small snack cheered my up for the entire day, and made me forget that I was ever homesick. My father and I would then went down to the vending machine every morning and bought me a Nesquick bottle and a bag of Cheetos until the end of our vacation.

I am still surprised today that a small and seemingly materialistic snack as a small child would stop me from feeling homesick. I find it interesting how it made me feel like I was home again. After looking back on this experience with lots of retrospection, I can realize that a house is just a building that you regularly live in, but a home isn't that. Instead, a home is a feeling. It is a feeling of safety, protection, happiness, a sense of belonging, and comfortability. As a three year old kid, something as simple as chocolate milk and cheese puffs was what gave me that feeling of home. This can go to show that some of the most littlest things in life can make someone's day so much better, as well as you can find home no matter where you are. In addition, I think that feeling like you're home has more than just a material aspect, and as you age your "definition of home" changes. Kids most likely are more attached to materialistic to make them happy or homey, however, adults tend to find a sense of home on a more social or emotional aspect, such as calling up a loved one. Personally, I feel that my sense of home has changed from when I was three. Now, I find happiness when my entire family is together, such as when my parents and I go to Worcester to see my sister at her college dorm.

In conclusion, I think that looking upon old and seemingly meaningless memories from one's childhood can reveal valuable and interesting phenomena that I would never be able to understand as a child. This can be relatable to Scout in "To Kill a Mockingbird". For example, Scout most likely didn't fully understand the racial and societal views on African-Americans at the time of Tom Robinson's trial. Although, looking back on the situation with hind sight must have helped her understand the reasons of why certain events transpired. Therefore, this experience of mine has stayed in my memory for more than just by chance, but because it's situation had significance and meaning in my life.