Ismael Enrique @samael_flaurus

احقر من انجبت كرة القدم

@paleflowerhn Hay wey!

YO LO GRABÉ... Y NO SABEN QUE LINDO SENTÍ EN MI CORAZÓN 🥹🫶🏼🤍🐶🐾 Este video lo tomé hace un ratito. Fue enternecedor verlos mientras ellos comían. Mírenlos... 9 bebés que llegaron antier con miedo y hambre. Hoy desayunan así: tranquilos, seguros, con pancita llena. Y todo es GRACIAS A USTEDES. A tu ayuda. A tu corazón. Cuando alguien alimenta a un animal, alimenta su propia alma. Hoy sus almas y las mías están llenitas de gratitud porque ustedes eligieron amar conmigo 🙏🏼 No saben lo que significa para mí poder grabar esto y decirles: "Sí se pudo. Sí comieron. Sí están bien... GRACIAS A TI" Me ayudan a ayudarles de mejor manera. Me sostienen cuando ya no puedo sola. Sin su familia Oceanican, estos bebés no estarían comiendo hoy. Y como el amor no se detiene, la manada completa sigue necesitando: 🌟Wishlist: amazon.com.mx/hz/wishlist/ls… 1. Láminas - Para que 5 cabañas no se encharquen con la lluvia 2. Croquetas para abuelitos y adultos - Ellos también merecen desayunar calientito 3. Desparasitante / Vitaminas - Para que crezcan fuertes y sanos 4. Cobijas y camitas - Porque todos merecen dormir sin frío 💜 Si tu alma quiere seguir abrazándolos: Azteca clabe 127180013445630838 O Banorte Clabe 072180013252156100 O BBVA: Clabe 012180029738436107 a nombre de Areli PayPal.Me: paypal.me/oceanican millones de gracias y bendiciones!! Concepto: Donación Con amor para ellos 💛 Cada peso tuyo se convierte en esto: en colitas moviendo y pancitas llenas. Gracias por confiar en mí para cuidarlos. Gracias por ser su familia extendida 🫶🏼 Los amo. A ellos. Y a ustedes por hacer esto posible. Millones de bendiciones x9... una por cada bebé que alimentaste hoy 🙏🏼🫶🏼💜🐶🐾

🚨 ¡Italia nos acaba de dar la lección de empatía más hermosa del mundo! 🐾🇮🇹 Si amas a los animales, esta noticia te va a derretir el corazón. En las aceras y parques italianos están instalando mini refugios de madera justo debajo de las bancas públicas para proteger a los gatitos de la calle del clima. 🥺🏠 Así de increíble funciona este proyecto: 🛏️ Tienen cojines súper suaves para que los michis descansen calientitos. 🥣 Cuentan con platos de comida y agua fresca. 🤝 Los propios vecinos se organizan con amor para rellenarlos todos los días. No es una moda, es una ley: 🏛️✨ Todo esto refleja una cultura de protección animal que nos llena de esperanza. Gracias a una ley vigente desde 1991, está estrictamente prohibido lastimar a los felinos. De hecho, los gatos tienen el derecho de vivir totalmente libres en los espacios públicos, ¡incluso pasean y duermen entre las históricas ruinas de Roma! 🐈🏛️ Por si fuera poco, enormes redes de voluntarios locales se aseguran de que jamás les falte alimento ni atención médica. 🩺❤️ Iniciativas como esta demuestran que podemos convivir en absoluta armonía con los animalitos que comparten nuestro entorno. 📸y crédito: Lugares fantásticos.

@xiaxiaqingzi Fiu fiu

@pastordc3110 @ClaraBrugadaM Y si dejan de llenar las coladeras de basura,yo vivo cerca de metro Taxqueña,y veo como los vendedores "atacan" de basura las coladeras.

On May 30, 1922, an elderly man in a dark coat stood at the foot of the Lincoln Memorial. He was seventy-eight years old. His hair was white. His body was frail. Two officers helped steady him as he prepared to climb the marble steps. The monument behind him belonged to his father. The weight he carried belonged to history. His name was Robert Todd Lincoln, the last surviving son of Abraham Lincoln. And that day, at the dedication of the Lincoln Memorial, he made his final public appearance. President Warren G. Harding led the ceremony. Thousands gathered to honor the man who had guided the nation through civil war and given his life before the healing could truly begin. But many eyes turned toward Robert. He was not only a guest. He was a living bridge. A man whose childhood had touched the Lincoln home in Springfield and whose old age now stood before a national shrine. Robert was born in 1843. He studied at Harvard, became a lawyer, and lived much of his life under a name that no private person could ever fully escape. Being Abraham Lincoln’s son brought honor. It also brought sorrow. On April 14, 1865, when John Wilkes Booth shot President Lincoln at Ford’s Theatre, Robert was in Washington. He rushed to the Petersen House and sat through the night near his dying father. He watched the president become a martyr. He watched his father become memory. Years later, tragedy found him again. In 1881, Robert was serving as Secretary of War when President James Garfield was shot at a Washington railroad station. Robert was there, close enough to rush toward the wounded president as panic spread around him. Garfield lingered for weeks before dying. Then, in 1901, Robert arrived in Buffalo as President William McKinley was shot at the Pan-American Exposition. He was nearby when the news broke. McKinley survived for several days, then died from infection. Three presidents. Three assassinations. Robert had been present or nearby for all of them. The coincidence haunted him. He once remarked that there seemed to be a certain fatality about presidential occasions when he was present. His life held another strange thread. As a young man, he once slipped between a moving train and the platform at a station in New Jersey. A stranger grabbed him by the collar and pulled him to safety. The man who saved him was Edwin Booth, one of the most famous actors of his time. He was also the brother of John Wilkes Booth. History seemed to circle Robert Lincoln in ways almost too strange to believe. Yet he was more than a witness to sorrow. He served on General Ulysses S. Grant’s staff near the end of the Civil War. He became a respected attorney in Chicago. As Secretary of War, he helped oversee the army during a period of change. Later, as minister to Great Britain, he represented the United States abroad with steadiness and restraint. In business, he led the Pullman Palace Car Company through difficult years and remained one of the most prominent figures of his generation. Still, he preferred privacy. Perhaps he had seen too much of what public life could cost. By the time he stood at the Lincoln Memorial in 1922, Robert was the last living child of Abraham and Mary Lincoln. His brothers had all died long before. His mother was gone. The world of the Civil War had faded into textbooks, monuments, and old men’s memories. He alone still carried the family line back to the house in Springfield. To the White House during war. To the room where his father died. Four years later, in 1926, Robert Todd Lincoln died in Vermont, just before his eighty-third birthday. He had lived a life of privilege, service, grief, and restraint. He had never sought to become a symbol. But history made him one anyway. In the photograph from the memorial dedication, he looks tired but composed, leaning on those beside him as he climbs. Behind him is the seated figure of Abraham Lincoln carved in stone. In front of him is a nation still trying to understand what that life had meant. Robert Todd Lincoln was the last living link to the president who held the Union together. And until the end, he carried that link quietly.

The cancer had eaten so much of his hip that there was barely a joint left to hold him together.😳 Vittorio Micheli was a young Italian soldier, twenty-three years old, when the pain began in his left hip in the spring of 1962. The biopsy gave it a name no one wants: a sarcoma. A malignant tumor. It grew with terrible speed. On the X-rays the doctors watched it dissolve the bone itself — the cancer destroyed part of his pelvis and chewed into the head of the femur, the very ball of the hip joint. They offered him no chemotherapy. No radiation. They did not think it would help. They encased his ruined hip in a plaster cast and, in his own words, the tumor had already destroyed part of his pelvis and was attacking the femoral head. He was told he had very little time. In May 1963, racked with pain and unable to walk, the dying soldier was carried to Lourdes. He was bathed in the waters of the shrine. He felt no lightning. No sudden jolt. But something quiet had begun. Back at the military hospital, the appetite he had lost returned. The pain that had ruled him eased. A sense of calm settled over him. And then he started getting out of bed — first in his cast, on crutches, then more. The doctors paid little attention. Until they took the next set of X-rays. The tumor was gone. And this is the part medicine could not hold in its hands: the bone had grown back. The hip that the cancer had eaten away rebuilt itself. The joint reformed. A man whose pelvis had been partly destroyed walked on a hip that, by every law the doctors knew, should never have existed again. Most cancers, in remission, leave the body scarred and the bone gone for good. Bone does not simply return to a socket it has lost. His did. The Lourdes Medical Bureau took the case and held it for years. The international committee of physicians examined it in 1969 and again in 1971, poring over the films from before and after. Their agreement was unanimous: a cure that medical science could not explain. The Church gave its formal recognition in 1976 — thirteen years after the baths. With that, Vittorio Micheli became the sixty-third cure officially recognized at Lourdes. He lived on for decades, returning to the grotto year after year as an old man, walking on the leg they had cast in plaster and given up for lost. The cancer took the bone. The waters gave it back. - Messenger of Lourdes Co.

¿Cuándo alguien diga que rescatar un perro "no sirve de nada"... Muéstrale este video. Este es Tsunami. Antes: Un rescatado más. Flaco, asustado, sin nombre, enfermo, triste. Hoy: Binomio canino en Venezuela. Entra a escombros, a zonas de riesgo por los sismos del 24 de junio pasado. Busca personas. Salva vidas humanas. Rescatar un perro no es "juntar animales". Es rescatar un futuro. Es convertir miedo en valor. Es convertir abandono en héroe. Tsunami no solo fue salvado. Tsunami ahora salva. Así que la próxima vez que te digan "¿para qué rescatan perros?", enséñales a Tsunami. Ellos no vienen a ocupar espacio. Vienen a cambiar el mundo. Uno de nosotros a la vez 🫶🏼💜🐶🐾 #TsunamiBinomio #RescatarSirve #AdoptaNoCompres #FamiliaOceanican #PerrosQueSalvan

FAMILIA OCEANICAN: ALINEACIÓN CONFIRMADA 🇲🇽⚽ Titular en la delantera: MUÑEQUITO Posición: Goleador oficial de la casa Playera: Lista. Actitud: Lista. Corazón: Tricolor 💚 Nos mandaron esta foto sus adoptantes! 🥰 En 1 hr 11 min arranca México vs Ecuador y Muñequito ya está en la banca... digo, en el sillón. De calle solito → a gritar el "¡Sí se puede!" desde casa con familia. Adoptar también es esto: tener con quién sufrir, gritar y festejar cada gol 😅🫶🏼💜🐶🐾 ¡VAMOS MÉXICO! Y tú Muñequito, portate bien o te sacan tarjeta amarilla 🟡😂 #Muñequito #MéxicoVsEcuador #AdoptaUnCampeón #FamiliaOceanican #MundialDeAdoptados

Los pueblos tienen los gobiernos que se merecen.

Roy Torres @royfid

a week ago

¿Y si sí tuviéramos el @MetroCDMX que merecemos?

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La intensa lluvia que se registró esta tarde en la CDMX y la Zona Metropolitana dejaron inundada la terminal de Pantitlán en el Metro, afectando principalmente la Línea A #Video : Luis Camacho - EL UNIVERSAL

In early 1900s, one of the most important trees in the eastern U.S., the American chestnut, was wiped out almost completely. It was everywhere across Appalachia. People built homes and barns from it, ate its nuts, and relied on it like no other tree. But by the time this photo of the Shelton family was taken around 1920, they were standing next to a dead giant, one of the last of its kind. The killer? A foreign fungus called Cryphonectria parasitica that showed up in New York in 1904. The chestnut had no natural defense against it, and the fungus spread fast, 50 miles a year, until it had infected nearly every tree. By the 1950s, about 4 billion American chestnuts were gone. Even before that, another disease had already been hurting chestnuts in southern areas. The tree was being attacked from all sides. Today, oaks and hickories fill the gap, but none had the same impact. The chestnut’s death wasn’t just an environmental loss, it changed the entire culture and ecosystem of Appalachia. © Reddit #archaeohistories

@MetroViralMx Luego luego se distingue quien anda tranquilo tranquila,y quien anda de busca pleito,me ha tocado,y no queda de otra que bajarse,y dejar que se vaya.

@EniorJimenez Es un mundo en evolución,se espera que la humanidad no de pasos para atrás,como de hecho lo está haciendo,y la américa prehispánica no era ruda y salvaje como los celtas,no hay comparación.

@tan_meggie Sin chones

@itsnao_xo Kool O!

@MaysaDiye De Taiwan

Es que… Ahora sí fuimos testigos de lo que en la old school se conoce como “dar atole con el dedo” 😔😔😔 El gobierno dijo que lo regresaría a los Franciscanitos y lo único que sucedió fue que ganaron tiempo para otras “chicanas” y a 6 meses no tenemos certeza ni siquiera de que estén vivos. 😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔

La Razón de México @LaRazon_mx

2 weeks ago

🐶🏠 El Refugio Franciscano aseguró haber cumplido con todos los requisitos exigidos por las autoridades y exigió la devolución inmediata de más de 800 animales retirados de su albergue en Cuajimalpa. Hasta ahora, no existe una fecha oficial para el regreso de los ejemplares. 🐾

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@LolitaVibeDaily C