I returned home from deployment three weeks ahead of schedule to surprise my husband and our four-year-old daughter

I pulled her close and hugged her.

For years, I had thought that providing for my family meant earning a good income, taking care of our home, and making plans for a secure future.

I had worked hard because I wanted Lily to have every opportunity I could give her.

A beautiful bedroom.

Money saved for college.

Family vacations.

A neighborhood where she could grow up safely.

But my little girl had taught me a lesson far more important than any of those things.

Home was not the property I had purchased.

It was not the money Derek had stolen from our accounts.

It was not the marriage I had struggled so hard to maintain.

Home was wherever Lily could close her eyes at night, confident that someone who loved her would still be there when she woke up the next morning.

That evening, after I finished tucking her into bed, she called out to me as I was leaving her bedroom.