

Mina lived in a big house with many girls in Morocco. Every morning, she helped arrange small shoes by the door. At night, she listened to soft sighs and whispered stories under blankets. 'Why do we share stories?' Mina asked her friend Amira. 'Because stories make us family,' Amira smiled. Mina looked around at all the girls. She felt warm inside. This place was different from having parents, but it was still home.

Mina walked the red dusty roads to the market. Music filled the air—drums, flutes, and singing voices. 'Why does the music make me happy?' she wondered aloud. An old merchant heard her. 'Because music is the language of the heart, little one.' He poured her mint tea. The sweet smell made her smile. Clink, clink went the cups. Mina loved every sound, every color, every moment. 'This is my Morocco,' she whispered.

Mina climbed to the roof at sunrise. Golden light spilled across the city like honey. She could see everything—markets, mosques, mountains far away. 'Why do I love it here?' she asked herself. She thought about her friends, the stories, the tea, the music. She thought about how the other girls became her sisters. 'I have no parents, but I have so much.' She adjusted her hijab in the morning breeze. 'That is why I stay.'

That evening, all the girls gathered for dinner. The caretaker asked, 'What did you learn today, Mina?' Mina smiled big. 'I learned why I love Morocco. It is not just the beautiful roads or sweet tea. It is because everywhere I go, I find pieces of home.' The other girls nodded and clapped. 'And we find pieces of you!' said Amira. They all laughed together. Mina realized asking why helped her understand her heart. Home was wherever love lived.