Healing Harts

@JKENNEDYJR11 God will get her, he always does

🚨 BREAKING: Rep. Sheila Cherfilus-McCormick (D-FL) JUST RESIGNED FROM CONGRESS after STEALING $5M in FEMA funds GOOD RIDDANCE! 👋 She clearly knew she'd be expelled. Don't stop there. She must be LOCKED UP for this theft and betrayal! And NO pension.

@SkylarSkye3 Please come back and bring all your friends with you

I can’t lie… I’m gonna miss the food in America. Everyone talks about portion sizes over their but nobody talks enough about how GOOD everything tastes.

@uspoloassn Impossible!! 😂

in constant search of someone who loves me as much as I love polo ponies.

@SkylarSkye3 It’s an absolute desert. It wasn’t supposed to be built in the first place. I don’t know how they keep water in there.

Finding out that Las Vegas just ends like this shocked me 🇺🇸 There’s got to be a reason for it right? Why didn’t people just keep on building

@WyattCatarina America getting saved by the Italians

Mamdani ooooh boy! 😂This Italian Queen is speaking my language lol Real Italian roots energy!! IJoey, make him an offa he can't refuse 'eh 😅😬🇮🇹🤌

@oelma__ Das Boot

NAME one

@SkylarSkye3 Mine was, and still is, reading about all the people who came from other countries to visit and loved being here and found out that we really are nice.

Now the World Cup is over, what was your favourite moment? Mine was learning about the American culture and how welcoming and helpful the beautiful people of America are 🇺🇸

Yeah, there was a show. I think it was called man versus food or something some years ago and they were showing these people these couples that have been married for like 50 and 60 years and they get a butter burger every day I was like wow I don’t know what they do to keep their arteries clear.

@HealingHart Years and years. That's the part that gets me. A whole life measured partly in ButterBurgers. I had it once and I already understand why someone would keep going back.

In Wisconsin they sent me to a place called Culver's. I asked who Culver was. They looked at me the way you look at a man who has asked who Bach was. "The family. It's the family's name." I walked in. Every voice behind the counter said "WELCOME TO CULVER'S" at the same second, and none of them looked up. I bowed. Nobody noticed. That was fine. The greeting had not been for me. It had been for the door. Blue shirts. Blue aprons. Name tags on the left strap. "True Blue Crew," the young woman said, tapping her tag. Name: KYLIE. "That's what we're called." An entire nation of blue. I looked at the menu. One word stopped me. ButterBurger. Kylie was already nodding. "Yeah. The bun is toasted in butter." In my land, a dish is named for what it withholds. Here it is named for what it cannot hide. I ordered it. I also ordered, because Kylie recommended them, cheese curds. "Curds?" "Little pieces of cheese. Fried. They squeak." "...The cheese squeaks." "When it's fresh, yeah." I made a note to test this. It sounded like the kind of thing a proud region invents about itself. It was also true. Then I saw the board. FLAVOR OF THE DAY: CARAMEL PECAN. TOMORROW: MINT EXPLOSION. I read it twice. "...A different one tomorrow?" "Every day. Every store picks their own." Every store. Every day. A thousand small towns deciding, without consulting each other, what their custard would taste like on Thursday. I ordered the custard. Kylie corrected me before I finished. "It's not ice cream. It's frozen custard. There's a difference." I did not ask what the difference was. I could hear in her voice that this one mattered to her personally. The tray came out heavier than I had earned. The bun shone. The curds sat in a paper boat, and when I bit one, I have to report this calmly, it made a small sharp sound against my teeth. Cheese. That squeaked. In my mouth. Because it was fresh. Two bites into the ButterBurger, I understood the name. It was not a boast. It was a warning. An older man at the next table watched me for a while. His cap said RETIRED, and something in smaller letters below that I could not read. Finally he leaned over. "First one?" I told him yes. He nodded once. And then, because I was a stranger who had asked a question by ordering the wrong thing, he told me the whole story anyway. "Craig started this place. Him and his wife and his mom and dad. 1984. Sauk City. His folks had owned that lot back in the sixties. Sold it. Got it back sixteen years later, opened a burger place on it. Ruth, that's his mom, the ButterBurger's her recipe. She wrote it down for him." He said "Ruth" the way you say a saint's name. Flat. No ceremony. Because everybody already knew. "Craig still visits the stores. Drives out. Shakes hands. Won't stop. Man's seventy-five." I set my fork down. Seventy-five. Still driving. Still shaking hands. Still opening doors that carry his mother's name. The man went back to his custard. Caramel Pecan. Tomorrow, at the same store, at the same table, it would be Mint Explosion, and he would come back for that too. Kylie brought me a small cup, unrequested. Vanilla. "On me. First-timer thing." I accepted with both hands. She did not notice. In my land, a family name becomes a temple when the family stops answering the door. In Wisconsin, the family opened the door in 1984, and forty years later they are still the ones opening it. One town at a time. One Thursday at a time. One Ruth-recipe at a time. Both are how you keep a name. Only one lets a stranger come back tomorrow for the Mint Explosion.

@MTW2478 @PBDsPodcast Yeah, he has stability now and a baby. I hope he continues to be blessed.

@HealingHart @PBDsPodcast He’s been there a while. He has residences here and there. And of course he’s married to an American. I think she’s been good for him!

Justin Bieber Had the Most Powerful Moment of the World Cup "My favorite part about the whole World Cup was Justin Bieber. Cause every artist, Madonna, Shakira, they had, you know, dancers, explosions, graphics, fire production, lip syncing. He walked out by himself with a guitar, his earpiece, and a mic, and sang A cappella while walking playing the guitar." "This is the biggest stage, and the song that he chose to pick to sing was Everything Hallelujah. It's about God, It's about gratitude and recognizing God's blessings, and being thankful for every day. It was so intentional."

@MTW2478 @PBDsPodcast Oh yeah, I forgot he’s Canadian. How could I forget that I feel like he’s always been here sorry about that.

@HealingHart @PBDsPodcast Justin is Canadian 🇨🇦 And it is great to see him looking healthy and happy.

@japan_nobunaga You need to make a book out of all your posts. They are phenomenal. I’m so glad you love America. We love you too.

In America a woman named Miss Patricia handed me a small plastic card and told me I could now take any book in the building home, for free, and simply bring it back. I did not move. I waited for the rest of the sentence. The catch. The fee. The rank I had not yet earned. In my country, knowledge is a mountain you climb, with a master at every switchback deciding whether you may continue. There was no rest of the sentence. The card was the whole sentence. "Any book?" I asked. "Any book, hon." "And I keep it?" "For three weeks. Then you bring it back for the next person." For the next person. I nearly sat down on the floor. A nation had built a palace, filled it with every thought its people ever had the courage to write down, and then decided the door would be free. Not free for the rich. Not free for the worthy. Free for a tired foreigner with an accent and a plastic card he did not have to bleed for. I took out a book about your Civil War. Miss Patricia stamped it. That stamp was the softest violence I have ever witnessed. A whole empire of trust, enforced by a rubber stamp and the honor of strangers. Then she said the words that undid me. "If you like it, there's a whole shelf more. Take your time." Take your time. In my country we do not tell a man to take his time. Time is the one thing we are always running out of, always apologizing for. I read the book in two nights. I could have kept it. No guard would have stopped me. No wall. Only Miss Patricia, trusting me from across a whole town, the way you trust a man because trusting him is how he becomes trustworthy. I brought it back one day early. I may have run part of the way. I have since read forty books that were never mine to keep, and every one of them was mine completely while I held it. America, you left the door of the entire human mind unlocked, and you put a woman named Patricia there, not to guard it, but to wave people in. Who taught you to trust a stranger with everything you know? I would like to learn it before I go home.

@OnlyinFlorida2 Me too miss my home state

Catching the Sunshine Skyways Red, White & Blue by boat!! Damn I love Florida!!

@genesimmons They also fell in love with our country and realized it’s not the horrible place. It’s portrayed to be in the media. I love it. I’m so glad they came.

Europeans visiting the FIFA games in America for the first time, I absolutely shocked by the Land Of Plenty. USA. USA. USA. instagram.com/reel/Da--39stU…

@SkylarSkye3 And we’re so glad you did too, honey. You come back now you’re here bring all your friends.

2026 has been the year where people finally realise America is completely different to what the media portrays it as 🇺🇸 My whole life I thought it was extremely dangerous and when the when the World Cup came around I was told “to not go” I’m so glad I did.

@japan_nobunaga Your posts are a beautiful journey through your experiences. Thank you for sharing.

In New Orleans I could not sleep. The city was still awake at two in the morning. I refused to be the first to quit. I found a place called Cafe du Monde. Three items on the menu. Beignets. Cafe au lait. Orange juice. Three items since 1862. I bowed to the menu. Jerome brought three beignets without asking. Golden squares buried under a mountain of powdered sugar. The dough underneath was a rumor. I picked one up like a civilized man. The sugar detonated. My shirt. My hands. The table. A woman to my left minding her own business at two in the morning. She did not flinch. She was already white. The man next to her was white. The chair behind her was white. The whole cafe was a joyful crime scene and nobody was investigating. I tried to brush the sugar off my shirt. It got worse. I tried harder. Worse still. Jerome watched me the way a zookeeper watches a new animal figure out the enclosure. "Does the sugar always do this." "Every time." "Has no one in a hundred and sixty years considered reducing—" "That IS the amount." I gave up. I ate the second beignet with no precautions. Sugar went into my hair. A man across the room raised his coffee cup at me. I had joined something. The cafe au lait was bitter with chicory and rude about it. Jazz from somewhere I could not see. An old couple sharing one plate, both white as ghosts, laughing. In my country, beauty is controlled. A garden trimmed. A tea poured without a drop. In New Orleans, beauty lands on your suit and does not apologize. I sat in the sugar until sunrise. I did not brush off a single grain.

@Conservatron1 It’s probably your body heat he made all the eggs crack open

In Texas, it can get really cold for a few days, not be cold for a few days and then get cold again. This was one of those times. I hadn't even worn my flannel more than 3 hours in my truck, one hour at the property just talking to someone so I hung it back up. 5 days later....boom. 1 million little spiders all over me.

Caution for those w arachnophobia.....😳😳😳

@japan_nobunaga If you get a chance, go to Vegas and then go down to Fremont Street you can fly on the zip line, wear your drink around your neck, eat at the heart attack grill and see people walking around open carry! You can also go to pawn stars

Idaho does not hide the potato joke. Idaho leans into it. A baked potato arrives the size of a soft football. Butter. Sour cream. Cheese. Bacon bits. Chives. It looks like a meal pretending to be a side dish. Japanese visitors laugh at the potato fame. Then they take one bite and stop laughing because it is actually that good. Idahoans point at the plate like, "Yes. We feed America." Fries. Hash browns. Loaded bakers. Potato pride with a napkin and a grin. Butter mountain or fully loaded first? 🇺🇸

@Conservatron1 I stripped when the Palmetto bugs fly down the shirt. I can’t just get creeps thinking about it now I’m gonna have nightmares.

@HealingHart Haha that stuff doesn't bother me until I'm covered in them. One time, a brood of spiders hatched in my flannel shirt on the way to my car (which was on a busy street). Millions came out of every opening of my shirt 😳 I've never stripped so fast before 🤣🤣🤣🤣