I was still sleeping, tucked beneath a dense Florida fog in the early hours of that final dismal day in February, when the texts started up again. Being Iranian, I’m used to these messages. Being American, I still have cellular and internet connections that transmit them.

The first read simply, “Oh, Melody. I love you.”

And that was enough. I didn’t need the flurry of news alerts or texts that followed to know what was happening. I knew immediately: Bombs were falling on my family. Again. We were at war with Iran. Again. America was at war with us. Again. My country was bombing my country. Again.

Continue reading here: https://www.spiritualityhealth.com/articles/2026/03/19/love-across-the-divide-how-one-iranian-american-finds-hope