Beautiful.

"My name's Raymond. I'm 73. I work the parking lot at St. Joseph's Hospital. Minimum wage, orange vest, a whistle I barely use. Most people don't even look at me. I'm just the old man waving cars into spaces. But I see everything. Like the black sedan that circled the lot every morning at 6 a.m. for three weeks. Young man driving, grandmother in the passenger seat. Chemotherapy, I figured. He'd drop her at the entrance, then spend 20 minutes hunting for parking, missing her appointments. One morning, I stopped him. "What time tomorrow?" "6:15," he said, confused. "Space A-7 will be empty. I'll save it." He blinked. "You... you can do that?" "I can now," I said. Next morning, I stood in A-7, holding my ground as cars circled angrily. When his sedan pulled up, I moved. He rolled down his window, speechless. "Why?" "Because she needs you in there with her," I said. "Not out here stressing." He cried. Right there in the parking lot. Word spread quietly. A father with a sick baby asked if I could help. A woman visiting her dying husband. I started arriving at 5 a.m., notebook in hand, tracking who needed what. Saved spots became sacred. People stopped honking. They waited. Because they knew someone else was fighting something bigger than traffic. But here's what changed everything, A businessman in a Mercedes screamed at me one morning. "I'm not sick! I need that spot for a meeting!" "Then walk," I said calmly. "That space is for someone whose hands are shaking too hard to grip a steering wheel." He sped off, furious. But a woman behind him got out of her car and hugged me. "My son has leukemia," she sobbed. "Thank you for seeing us." The hospital tried to stop me. "Liability issues," they said. But then families started writing letters. Dozens. "Raymond made the worst days bearable." "He gave us one less thing to break over." Last month, they made it official. "Reserved Parking for Families in Crisis." Ten spots, marked with blue signs. And they asked me to manage it. But the best part? A man I'd helped two years ago, his mother survived, came back. He's a carpenter. Built a small wooden box, mounted it by the reserved spaces. Inside? Prayer cards, tissues, breath mints, and a note, "Take what you need. You're not alone. -Raymond & Friends" People leave things now. Granola bars. Phone chargers. Yesterday, someone left a hand-knitted blanket. I'm 73. I direct traffic in a hospital parking lot. But I've learned this: Healing doesn't just happen in operating rooms. Sometimes it starts in a parking space. When someone says, "I see your crisis. Let me carry this one small piece." So pay attention. At the grocery checkout, the coffee line, wherever you are. Someone's drowning in the little things while fighting the big ones. Hold a door. Save a spot. Carry the weight no one else sees. It's not glamorous. But it's everything." Let this story reach more hearts.... Credit: Mary Nelson

For the last 3-4 years I’ve been screaming about this from the rooftops. My youngest brother is a Border Patrol Agent. He has PTSD because of what he saw—because of what he was forced to be part of. Border Patrol Agents’ hands were tied. Good agents reported the rape, the trafficking, the abandoned little kids—and they were told to shut up, look the other way, and “do your job.” He has story after story of pulling terrified toddlers out of the Rio Grande after cartel coyotes dropped them off like trash, then flipped him the bird while rowing back to Mexico. He was the first American those children came into contact with on our side of the border. The fear in their eyes still wakes him up at night. I spent countless nights on the phone with him, telling him to hang on, that help was coming, that this nightmare would end. But for those little ones, hope never came. Most of those kids disappeared into the system. He will never know what happened to them. No closure. Ever. There is a special place in hell for every Biden admin official who engineered this, and for every cartel animal who profited from it. Never forget what they did to these children.

🚨 52% of American Schools and Districts have begun rolling out a new program called Equitable Grading Equitable Grading means American students will have - Unlimited test retakes - No zeros for missing work - No homework, homework’s is excluded from final grades - No late penalties - No required participation “In short, everyone passes and more than half of US public schools have already adopted at least one of these policies and some districts have adopted all of them. Teachers themselves are calling it academic fraud. Meanwhile, the US already spends more per student than almost any other developed nation and our students are performing near the bottom. For example: - American 15 year olds placed 28th out of 37 countries in math and reading and math scores just hit their lowest levels in 20 years - In some districts, over 50% of middle school students are already three or more grade levels behind, yet they're still being pushed through the system. Apparently, schools are implementing this to raise test scores, improve graduation rates, and close achievement gaps tied to race and income — This is the classroom version of handing out participation trophies to every kid on the field and it's not just lowering the bar, it's destroying it.” - 52%: Schools/districts using at least one Equitable Grading policy (e.g., no zeros, retakes, or late-work leniency). - 34%: Using 2-3 Equitable Grading policies. - 6%: Using 4+ Equitable Grading policies (full “package” implementation). - Higher adoption of Equitable Grading in middle schools (e.g., 55% in majority-minority middle schools) and urban/district-wide settings.

And here it is: This is exactly why the Democrats have shut down the U.S. government: One of the most shocking whistleblowers in the history of whistleblowing: Whistleblower inside the Biden–Kamala administration: “I couldn’t believe that we were giving these people Social Security cards and U.S. passports, free medical, free housing, free food — free everything.” Whistleblower: “They were incentivized to qualify illegals for long-term disability so they could receive Social Security for life — basically, ‘set for life.’” “They wanted us to identify them in such a way that they would qualify for long-term Social Security disability. And once they qualify, it’s for life — they’re essentially set up permanently.” “That doesn’t sound like a refugee to me. Just being honest, that sounds like someone planning to stay here forever.” “They instructed us to talk to the ‘clients’ — because once they arrive, they’re called clients — and ask if they had recurring headaches, lower back problems, or anything else that might qualify them for long-term disability.” “Yes, it is insanity. But in order to get Social Security disability benefits, don’t you need a Social Security number? Well, we were told that one of the first steps was signing them up for Social Security.” Q: “This is unbelievable. So they come over here, get a Social Security number, and become legal?” Answer: “Correct.” 📝 A deliberate strategy by Democrats to use government handouts at taxpayers' expense as bribes to encourage a voter invasion.

NEW: Father of 22-year-old woman who was brutally killed by a career criminal, absolutely unleashes during a House hearing against soft-on-crime policies. "[He] dragged her out of bed naked, forced on her knees with her hands over her head ... BANG! Dead. Gone." "Why? Because Alexander Davante Dickey, who was arrested 39 godd*mn times, 25 felonies, was on the street..." Logan Federico was visiting friends at the University of South Carolina on May 3 when career criminal Alexander Dickey, 30, broke in and shot her before stealing her credit cards and going on a shopping spree. Dickey had 39 previous arrests and 25 felonies. Everyone responsible for keeping this man on the streets should be thrown in prison.

From FB: I know the exact pressure it takes to crack a rib during CPR. But last Tuesday, I learned a patient’s silence can break a doctor’s soul. His name was David Chen, but on my screen, he was "Male, 82, Congestive Heart Failure, Room 402." I spent seven minutes with him that morning. Seven minutes to check his vitals, listen to the fluid in his lungs, adjust his diuretics, and type 24 required data points into his Electronic Health Record. He tried to tell me something, gesturing toward a faded photo on his nightstand. I nodded, said "we'll talk later," and moved on. There was no billing code for "talk later." Mr. Chen died that afternoon. As a nurse quietly cleared his belongings, she handed me the photo. It was him as a young man, beaming, his arm around a woman, standing before a small grocery store with "CHEN'S MARKET" painted on the window. The realization hit me like a physical blow. I knew his ejection fraction and his creatinine levels. I knew his insurance provider and his allergy to penicillin. But I didn't know his wife's name or that he had built a life from nothing with his own two hands. I hadn’t treated David Chen. I had managed the decline of a failing organ system. And in the sterile efficiency of it all, I had lost a piece of myself. The next day, I bought a small, black Moleskine notebook. It felt like an act of rebellion. My first patient was Eleanor Gable, a frail woman lost in a sea of white bedsheets, diagnosed with pneumonia. I did my exam, updated her chart, and just as I was about to leave, I paused. I turned back from the door. "Mrs. Gable," I said, my voice feeling strange. "Tell me one thing about yourself that’s not in this file." Her tired eyes widened in surprise. A faint smile touched her lips. "I was a second-grade teacher," she whispered. "The best sound in the world... is the silence that comes just after a child finally reads a sentence on their own." I wrote it down in my notebook. Eleanor Gable: Taught children how to read. I kept doing it. My little black book began to fill with ghosts of lives lived. Frank Miller: Drove a yellow cab in New York for 40 years. Maria Flores: Her mole recipe won the state fair in Texas, three years running. Sam Jones: Proposed to his wife on the Kiss Cam at a Dodgers game. Something began to change. The burnout, that heavy, gray cloak I’d been wearing for years, started to feel a little lighter. Before entering a room, I’d glance at my notebook. I wasn’t walking in to see the "acute pancreatitis in 207." I was walking in to see Frank, who probably had a million stories about the city. My patients felt it too. They'd sit up a little straighter. A light would flicker back in their eyes. They felt seen. The real test came with Leo. He was 22, angry, and refusing dialysis for a condition he’d brought on himself. He was a "difficult patient," a label that in hospital-speak means "we've given up." The team was frustrated. I walked into his room and sat down, leaving my tablet outside. We sat in silence for a full minute. I didn't look at his monitors. I looked at the intricate drawings covering his arms. "Who's your artist?" I asked. He scoffed. "Did 'em myself." "They're good," I said. "This one... it looks like a blueprint." For the first time, his gaze lost its hard edge. "Wanted to be an architect," he muttered, "before... all this." We talked for twenty minutes about buildings, about lines, about creating something permanent. We didn't mention his kidneys once. When I stood up to leave, he said, so quietly I almost missed it, "Okay. We can try the dialysis tomorrow." Later that night, I opened my Moleskine. I wrote: Leo Vance: Designs cities on paper. The system I work in is designed to document disease with thousands of data points. It logs every cough, every pill, every lab value. It tells the story of how a body breaks down. My little black book tells a different story. It tells the story of why a life mattered.

WE HAVE A PROBLEM: This is a well written and thought out article written by a 26 yr old college student by the name of Alyssa Ahlgren, who's in grad school for her MBA. What a GREAT perspecitve... My Generation Is Blind to the Prosperity Around Us! I'm sitting in a small coffee shop near Nokomis (Florida) trying to think of what to write about. I scroll through my newsfeed on my phone looking at the latest headlines of presidential candidates calling for policies to "fix" the so-called injustices of capitalism. I put my phone down and continue to look around. I see people talking freely, working on their MacBook's, ordering food they get in an instant, seeing cars go by outside, and it dawned on me. We live in the most privileged time in the most prosperous nation and we've become completely blind to it. Vehicles, food, technology, freedom to associate with whom we choose.These things are so ingrained in our American way of life we don't give them a second thought. We are so well off here in the United States that our poverty line begins 31 times above the global average. Thirty One Times!!! Virtually no one in the United States is considered poor by global standards. Yet, in a time where we can order a product off Amazon with one click and have it at our doorstep the next day, we are unappreciative, unsatisfied, and ungrateful. ?? Our unappreciation is evident as the popularity of socialist policies among my generation continues to grow. Congresswoman Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez recently said to Newsweek talking about the millennial generation, "An entire generation, which is now becoming one of the largest electorates in America, came of age and never saw American prosperity." Never saw American prosperity! Let that sink in. When I first read that statement, I thought to myself, that was quite literally the most entitled and factually illiterate thing I've ever heard in my 26 years on this earth. Many young people agree with her, which is entirely misguided. My generation is being indoctrinated by a mainstream narrative to actually believe we have never seen prosperity. I know this first hand, I went to college, let's just say I didn't have the popular opinion, but I digress. Why then, with all of the overwhelming evidence around us, evidence that I can even see sitting at a coffee shop, do we not view this as prosperity? We have people who are dying to get into our country. People around the world destitute and truly impoverished. Yet, we have a young generation convinced they've never seen prosperity, and as a result, we elect some politicians who are dead set on taking steps towards abolishing capitalism. Why? The answer is this,?? my generation has only seen prosperity. We have no contrast. We didn't live in the great depression, or live through two world wars, the Korean War, The Vietnam War or we didn't see the rise and fall of socialism and communism. We don't know what it's like to live without the internet, without cars, without smartphones. We don't have a lack of prosperity problem. We have an entitlement problem, an ungratefulness problem, and it's spreading like a plague." Please Share

RT @yhbryankimiq: As the world's highest IQ record holder, I believe the Bible is the perfect, eternal, and final Word of God. Therefore, t…

One of the most pristine responses by a guest on @TheView…I mean spot TF on. They tried to shut him up, but bro couldn’t help but to speak truth. Well said @Schwarzenegger 😎🇺🇸👍🏾

Had to share the most heartwarming use of AI I’ve seen yet. A teacher made AI-generated images of her students as adults living their dream careers (ex: astronaut, football player, cartoonist, veterinarian) 🫶

Some guy asked Chat GPT, “Would you believe in JESUS if you were human” ? This is what it produced: even the demons know JESUS is King of kings and Lord of lords.

It was the film no one wanted. Too brutal. Too sacred. Too true. But one man believed, and another took up the Cross. This is the story behind The Passion of the Christ. Not just a movie, a miracle in motion - a 🧵✝️

This is excellent news Niall!! 👍 Please help @NiallHarbison by sharing. Every book sold helps the dogs that he rescues and cares for. From the minute Tina was free of her chains, she got on with what needed to do, and inspired a dog hospital to be built!

Our judicial system is a joke..

The FDA just announced it no longer recommends Covid shots for most Americans. There was never substantial evidence supporting the COVID vacation—only driven narratives of profit, propaganda, and pressure. THIS IS LONG OVERDUE!!

RT @richardursomd: 79.4% of babies who die of SIDS had a vaccine the same day

This is Waffles. I just met her in Chicago. She was saved just in time from the dog meat trade in Korea. She was destined to be butchered up. She is a gentle giant and she needs a home. Hopefully X can help… (1/8) 🧵

I share her full rescue and application details for foster and owning on my insta… instagram.com/niall.harbison A follow there helps so much 🙏🥰