[originaltext] I will never forget the greeting that my family received in I

I will never forget the greeting that my family received in Iran in the spring of 1986. My father, Iranian by birth, took my mother, a native Washingtonian, my two brothers and me, aged two, four, and five respectively, to live in Tehran where he had just accepted employment. Showers of hugs and kisses descended upon us from relatives whom I had never met.
    During our time in Iran, we spent a great deal of time with our relatives and friends. The family unit forms a significant part of Iran life, perhaps because there were so few material possessions for most of them. Through my relatives, I experienced overwhelming affection, true caring, and unceasing generosity. Although their houses were small and their work was burdensome, there was always time to prepare enormous meals and the space to make all their relatives comfortable. To them nothing was more important than being surrounded by the people they loved and who loved them. Because of my youth in Iran, as a young woman about to leave home to go to college I can now appreciate the support system with which my family has provided me. They have given me confidence and stability. I have learned to cherish their presence and the love that they have always given me. Iran taught me to be thankful for what I am, and not for what I have. That joyful and fatalistic acceptance of whatever life holds which I found in Iran has shaped me into the person I am today. The Iranian people, their unqualified and unselfish generosity, their optimism, and their joy for life will always remain a part of me. I will never forget my eight years in my father’s country, which will always be mine as well.