“Șapte” is the word for “seven.”
Last Thursday I stopped by my host family’s house for a visit. It was my host niece’s 7th (Viviana) birthday. It had been awhile since I had seen them, and we had many stories to exchange.
As I walked up the dirt road to their gate, my younger host niece (Sorina) spotted me, froze, and then dashed in my direction saying “Jenn-EE-furrrr!” I kneeled down for a big hug. Those two girls that I lived with, Viviana and Sorina, have the biggest, most beautiful eyes I’ve ever seen. Adorable. Their younger cousin, Ionel, has the same big eyes. He, too, was standing outside waiting for us to begin our feast for Viviana’s birthday.
I stayed and chatted, we ate lots of food, drank champagne and cognac, toasted and gave gifts to Viviana, and ended with a beautiful cake and a happy birthday song. They had Viviana blow her candles out, and then she sat on a chair as they hoisted her up in the air seven times, one for each year. It was a good time.