Vaccine injuries are NOT rare.
While officials call it “normal,” the numbers tell a different story:
• Autism now affects 1 in 31 eight-year-old children (CDC 2025 data) — skyrocketing in recent decades.
• Autoimmune diseases are surging at epidemic levels worldwide.
• Nearly 1 in 3 children now lives with a chronic condition or functional limitation — up sharply from previous generations.
• Childhood cancer diagnoses continue to climb, with ~15,000 new cases every year in the U.S. alone.
• Hundreds of thousands of children suffer from seizures and epilepsy disorders.
• Thousands of infants still die annually from SIDS and sudden unexpected infant death.
These explosions in childhood illness coincide with the ever-expanding vaccine schedule.
Toxic ingredients raising serious concerns include:
• Aluminum (neurotoxin used as an adjuvant)
• PEG (polyethylene glycol — linked to severe allergic reactions)
• Polysorbate 80 (emulsifier associated with immune disruption)
• mRNA (novel technology with unknown long-term effects)
• SV40 promoter sequences (cancer-linked DNA elements)
• Residual animal and human DNA fragments (risk of genetic interference)
This is not normal.
Connect the dots.
Question the schedule.
Protect our children.
According to Dr. Mike Yeadon, former vice president and chief scientific officer at Pfizer, the Covid mRNA injections "were intentionally designed to injure, kill, and reduce fertility in survivors".
Yeadon warns that the lipid nanoparticles used in Pfizer and Moderna's mRNA so-called "vaccines" were designed to target ovaries, had never been authorised for human use, and violate established safety protocols.
Life has thrown me some curveballs, and things have been challenging at times, but thanks to God’s grace and mercy I’m still standing.
I am joyful because I know this life is not the end. One day, I will be in a place where there is no pain or suffering or sorrow. Just joyfully worshipping my Lord and Savior for all of eternity.
What a glorious day that will be.
When I asked my 11-year-old son to help me unload the soil from our truck into his mom's new planters, his response was pretty typical.
"Ummmm... I'm busy right now," he said.
He was playing Roblox on the family laptop, wearing sweatpants and an old t-shirt, lying on the couch with his feet up on the coffee table.
"No, you're not," I said.
There were some complaints, complaints and excuses, as usual.
A few minutes later, we were standing next to a wheelbarrow, moving dirt. He looked at me blankly, his hood up and his shoulders slumped, and asked, "Why do we have to do this?"
I thought about it for a second, and I admit it was a good question. Neither of us is much into gardening. But my wife, Mel, loves it.
I thought for a moment, and then I said, “When you love someone, you serve them.”
I explained to him that I wanted him to grow up to be the kind of man who helps his family, his friends, and his community.
“This,” I said, pointing to the dirt, the planters I had built, the wheelbarrow and shovel, “is what love looks like.”
He didn't like my answer very much. I could tell by the way he slowly picked up the shovel again.
We finished unloading the dirt, and the next day, while I was at work, Mel sent me a photo. She'd picked up another load of dirt, and before she could even start unloading, Tristan started working on his own. When she asked him, "Why?" he shrugged and said, "Because I love you."
I was very proud of my son.
Credit: Linda Wilcox"
@moveon_9910 Yep.
That's how the day started too back then. I remember turning on the TV for Saturday morning cartoons early early, and just the snow static, then colour bars followed by the national anthem.