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Japanese Maple

Every year I would travel to my grandparents’ house in New Jersey

And when we would get to the grand house

I would see my favorite tree

Japanese Maple.

I loved how the light from the backdoor would shine on the colors of red and yellow.

I would walk in to the kitchen the I would see the tiny kitchen where my dad’s family grow up.

And I would turn my head and see the hand stitched plaque

“There’s no place like home- except grandmas.”

And I knew I was home.

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