Children start clapping loudly and hooting nonstop
"Auntie, Auntie, Auntie ;
Auntie, Auntie, Auntie ;
Auntie, Auntie, Auntie;…….."

I am speechless with a tide of emotions; no words are coming to my lips. I can only manage a broad smile.
Filled with new energy, I start the music system and go outside, closing the door. I check if the sound pitch is within tolerable neighbors' limits. The muffled beats of music thump through even the closed doors and windows, "I think it's all right and not loud enough to provoke neighbors to complain."
Little angels are hopping around in the gentle radiance of candles. Their shadows are dancing along with the angels, reaching all up the sides of the hall. The next room is all silent.
I am experiencing there is nothing that can make me happier than children at home for a party.
Children a dozen of them were mostly Indians, and few of them Arabic. We play an excellent Bollywood and Arabic dance song collection, which Reena borrowed from her mother for this party.

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