Tobias Kramer

Die Top 10 Sparplan-ETFs! @takberlin und @CWRoehl präsentieren die meistbesparten ETFs im Scalable Broker – und nominieren jeweils drei Favoriten-Fonds für den langfristigen Vermögensaufbau!! 📌youtu.be/HrgJDqXqTfw

Zehn Jahre Kursstillstand, Nettomarge von 13 auf 5 % – trotzdem kauft ihr UPS kräftig. 📉 @takberlin erklärt, warum KGV unter 14 und Automatisierung für den Nachkauf sprechen – und verdoppelt seine Position. 💰🤖 YouTube-Link: 📌 youtu.be/aZL26R_rRgM

Beim PortfolioAward 2026 stehen die Gewinner fest. 🏆 In Teil 1 stellen @takberlin und @matschmitt2009 sieben davon vor – von Multi-Asset-ETFs bis Aktien Europa. Was hat die Community überzeugt? 📊 #PortfolioAward2026 #ETF #Geldanlage YouTube-Link: 📌 youtu.be/6ktkPvFkPz8

In 1998, in a classroom in Kemptville, Ontario, a teacher told her first-grade class about children in Africa who walked for hours every day just to find water — water that was often dirty enough to make them sick. Six-year-old Ryan Hreljac raised his hand. “How much does it cost to give them clean water?” His teacher mentioned that a well could cost around $70. It was just a rough estimate. Ryan heard something different — he heard a number he could actually reach. That afternoon, he went home and told his mother he needed $70. When she asked why, he explained kids were getting sick from dirty water. Susan could have just handed him the money. Instead, she told him: if he wanted it, he’d have to earn it. So he did. He vacuumed. Washed windows. Worked in the yard. Every dollar went into a jar. Four months later, he’d reached his goal. Then came the twist he hadn’t expected: $70 wasn’t nearly enough. It would only cover a hand pump — a full well system cost around $2,000. For most six-year-olds, that would’ve been the end of the story. For Ryan, it was just a bigger number. He looked at his mother and said, “Okay. Then I’ll just have to do more chores.” Something shifted after that. His brothers stopped teasing him and started helping. Neighbors offered him small jobs. His school organized fundraisers. Word spread about the little boy who wouldn’t let go of a promise he’d made to himself. By the end of 1998, Ryan had raised the full $2,000. In January 1999, a well was drilled at Angolo Primary School in northern Uganda. He was seven years old. Ryan began writing to children at the school, and one name kept appearing in the letters back: Jimmy Akana, a boy around his age, describing how life had changed — fewer illnesses, more time for school, no more long walks just to find water. In 2000, Ryan traveled to Uganda with his family to meet him. As their vehicle approached the village, people lined the road — children, parents, elders — calling his name. He was eight years old. Most people would’ve considered the story finished there. Ryan didn’t. At just ten, his family helped establish what became the Ryan’s Well Foundation, and he grew right alongside it — studying international development, returning to the communities he’d helped, becoming a genuine leader in the organization rather than just its origin story. Today, according to the foundation, Ryan’s Well has supported more than 1,700 water projects and 1,300 sanitation projects across 17 countries, reaching over 1.5 million people. There’s one more piece to this story. Jimmy eventually escaped violence in Uganda and came to Canada, where Ryan’s family adopted him. The two boys who first met because of a well became brothers. It started with a teacher mentioning $70 in passing. A six-year-old asked a question, earned the money, discovered he needed far more — and kept going anyway. He didn’t have wealth or influence or an organization behind him. He just believed something should be done, and decided he could be the one to do it. - Everyday Magic

He officially has more felonies (34) than approval ratings (33).

THIS Is What a Solar Eclipse Looks Like From Space 🌑