Floor Statements

Mr. President, I rise today to recognize and honor Natalie Kaddas and Kaddas Enterprises on this 60th anniversary celebration.

Natalie Kaddas, the company's second-generation owner and chief executive officer. When John and Carol Kaddas were ready to retire, they turned the company over to their son Jay and his wife Natalie. Natalie's own story is a distinctly Utah one. She attended Salt Lake Community College's Travel and Tourism program, stepped away to raise a family, and returned to the classroom again and again over the years, training in employment law, accounting, sales, and electrical technology as the business demanded new skills of her. In 2019, SLCC recognized her with its Distinguished Alumni Award. She is also a graduate of the Goldman Sachs 10,000 Small Businesses program, and Utah Business named her one of its 30 Women to Watch in 2025.

Under Natalie's leadership, Kaddas Enterprises has grown from a regional manufacturer into a company whose products protect wildlife and power infrastructure on multiple continents. She has taken her father-in-law's original mission--protecting raptors from electrocution--and expanded it dramatically. Just this year, Kaddas Enterprises and the Kenya Power and Lighting Company launched a 5-year partnership to bring the BirdguarD line to East Africa, a region where wildlife contact with power infrastructure causes roughly 30 percent of outages. The agreement will help protect species such as the Augur Buzzard and Martial Eagle in habitats like the Soysambu Conservancy, while reducing the animal-caused electrical faults that can spark wildfires and endanger nearby communities and critical energy systems. It is Utah innovation, quite literally, saving raptors, protecting the grid, and preventing wildfires around the world.

Natalie's leadership extends well beyond her own company. She serves as chair of the U.S. Chamber of Commerce's Small Business Council, sits on the Chamber's board of directors and executive committee as the West Region's vice chair, and serves on the Utah District Export Council and the Goldman Sachs 10,000 Small Business Voices National Leadership Council. In every one of these roles, she carries Utah's small business perspective to a national stage.

Sixty years ago, John and Carol Kaddas built a company in their kitchen. Today, under Natalie Kaddas' leadership, that company protects eagles in Utah, buzzards in Kenya, employs dozens of Utahns, and stands as a model of what a family business can become.

I ask that my colleagues join me in congratulating Natalie Kaddas and the Kaddas Enterprises team on 60 remarkable years; may their work continue to benefit future generations of Utahns and have lasting impact on here and abroad.

I yield the floor.

Mr. President, tomorrow, Utahns will celebrate Pioneer Day, which commemorates the arrival of the first company of Latter-day Saint pioneers into the Salt Lake Valley on July 24, 1847.

For many outside Utah, Pioneer Day may seem a little unique and a strange local observance, but the values it commemorates are profoundly American and can resonate with all of us. We recognize not only a historic journey but the enduring pioneer spirit that helped shape the American West and continues to shape our country today.

The early members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints sought to actualize our first freedom and something every American should cherish: religious liberty. Instead, they were driven from their homes, stripped of their property, and forced to flee into an uncertain wilderness. Thousands traveled more than 1,300 miles across plains, deserts, and mountains.

I recently walked 250 miles in remembrance of that journey, and it is true that it challenged me, but I had every modern advantage, including seven pairs of shoes, a support team, and an RV to sleep in. Their sacrifice was of an entirely different magnitude: parents buried children, children buried parents, spouses buried their soulmates. Yet they sang a song that will be sung in many church buildings across Utah on Sunday: ``Come, Come, Ye Saints.'' In that song, they sing ``All is well,'' for they had a vision of a land, as the song goes, ``far away in the West, where none shall come to hurt or make afraid; there the Saints will be blessed.''

When they finally reached that place, the Salt Lake Valley, they didn't dwell on all they had lost; they focused on what they could build. Within days, they were planting crops, digging irrigation canals, laying out streets, and creating communities where none had existed before. Over the decades that followed, they established hundreds of settlements across the Mountain West, built roads and bridges, and helped countless other immigrants travel west.

That is the pioneer spirit. That is the American spirit. It is resilience in the face of hardship. It is self-reliance married with cooperation. It is choosing to build instead of surrender.

As our Nation celebrates its 250th anniversary, I believe those values are as relevant today as they were nearly 180 years ago. Every generation faces its own frontier. Ours may not be crossing the plains, but we are still called to solve difficult problems, to contribute meaningfully to our communities, and to leave a better nation for those who inherit it.

Americans still want to build something meaningful. They still want to provide for their families. They still want their children to inherit greater opportunities than they themselves received. Those aspirations haven't changed. What has changed is that sometimes we forget the virtues and the sacrifices that are required to achieve them.

May we all this Pioneer Day recommit ourselves to remembering that heritage and channeling that spirit in our own hearts because the American story has never belonged to just one generation. It is written by each generation willing to work, sacrifice, and build for the next.

That is why the resolution I am introducing with my colleagues today is about more than honoring the past. It is about carrying forward the virtues that made those pioneers successful: faith, sacrifice, community, industry, and perseverance. May we honor their legacy by living those same values and by continuing to move our Nation forward one faithful step at a time.

Mr. President, almost 250 years ago, 56 delegates to the Second Continental Congress affixed their signature to the most influential document in the history of human rights: the American Declaration of Independence.

Over succeeding generations, more than 100 other nations would model their own declaration of independence with statements that followed the American pattern of 1776. It proclaimed liberty as an unalienable right in what Walter Isaacson has called ``the greatest sentence ever written.''

Among our unalienable rights, the document declared, are ``Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.'' Defining liberty and giving definition, substance, and legal guarantees of that right has been one of America's greatest ongoing commitments to the betterment of humanity. And at the forefront of that pantheon of liberties the Declaration affirms has been the right to believe and practice religion according to the dictates of our own conscience.

Four decades ago, 160 of 170 international constitutions were modeled, in whole or in part, on the American model. Freedom of religion is guaranteed in principle, if not in fact, in 97 percent of those constitutions.

When the first colonists arrived in the New World, religious freedom existed in theory, like that of John Locke, but not in political practice. Roger Williams founded Rhode Island on the principle of sole conscience in 1636, and 150 years later, in 1786, Thomas Jefferson authored the pioneering Virginia Statute for Religious Freedom:

Almighty God hath created the mind free and manifested his

Supreme will that free it shall remain.

The State legislation he proposed therefore decreed that no person shall ``suffer, on account of his religious opinions or belief; but that all [persons] shall be free to profess . . . their opinions in matters of religion.''

It was a long journey from Jamestown to Plymouth Rock, to that Virginia statute, the U.S. Constitution, and the Bill of Rights.

America has made great progress, but the road has been, at times, harrowing for those people at the margins of our mainstream.

Quakers were hanged in Massachusetts in 1659. Baptists were imprisoned in Virginia in the 1770s. Catholic convents and schools were burned in 1834. My own people, the Latter Day Saints, were mobbed and murdered in Missouri and Illinois in the decade to follow. And Jewish people have been the victims of discrimination and violence from the founding to the present.

One of the lessons to be learned from this history is that you can legislate religious protections but you cannot legislate respect or compassion or bonds of charity. Yet religious freedom hinges on these virtues.

Our public discourse, however, has never tipped so precariously into what Arthur Brooks has called a ``culture of contempt.'' If you think you sense something alarming in the air, the statistics say you are right. A March 2026 Pew survey reveals the distressing fact that Americans view their fellow Americans with more hostility and suspicion than is the case in any democracy surveyed.

The United States is the only place surveyed where more adults describe the morality and ethics of others living in the country as bad, 53 percent, than as good, 47 percent. We can do better. We have to do better.

Yes, as members of this national community, we have the right to espouse our values--religious, moral, or political--without hindrance or constraint. That also means we must accord to others the right to espouse their values without hindrance or constraint.

Religious freedom is distinctly intertwined with pluralism because the free exercise of religion presupposes a mosaic of differing values and other life orientations.

The words ``kindness,'' ``civility,'' and ``charity'' nowhere appear in our Constitution or our Declaration of Independence, whose anniversary we will commemorate next week. That is because those values were presupposed by the Founders.

This grand experiment in democracy required for its organization and requires for its continuation a willingness to build bridges of understanding, as well as defend principles to which we are committed.

Dr. Matthew Holland has written of how civic charity is deeply embedded in our thoughts; John Winthrop, leader of the Massachusetts Bay Colony, of Thomas Jefferson, America's apostle of religious liberty, and of Abraham Lincoln, who so powerfully invoked the better angels of our nature at a time of national crisis.

We will never achieve consensus on the particulars of our religious commitments or our lack of religious commitments, nor should we. Our pluralism is a source of our strength and should be a source of pride.

However, we can honor our founding principles by returning to the particular kind of faith they did have in common: faith in the essential goodness of each other and one another.

The psychologist Jamil Zaki has written: Cynicism is a lack of faith in people. Skepticism is a lack of faith in our assumptions. Charity is the only way whereby we flourish in our differences, even as we work together for a more perfect Union.

I ask for the yeas and nays.

Mr. President, I have six requests for committees to meet during today's session of the Senate. They have the approval of the Majority and Minority Leaders.

Pursuant to rule XXVI, paragraph 5(a), of the Standing Rules of the Senate, the following committees are authorized to meet during today's session of the Senate:

Mr. President, I ask unanimous consent to waive the mandatory quorum call with respect to the cloture motion on the motion to proceed to Calendar No. 311, H.R. 7147.

Mr. President, I call up my amendment No. 3697 and ask that it be reported by number.

Mr. President, I ask unanimous consent that there be up to 2 minutes, equally divided.

Mr. President, I rise today in support of my amendment to create a pilot program to address the shortcomings in the locality pay system that are impacting Utah and likely impacting all of you in your military installations and all of your Federal employees around this country.

The outdated locality pay formula has several flaws in its metrics. In my State, it doesn't take into account blue-collar workers. It doesn't even take into account cost of living.

My amendment creates a pilot program for OPM to use Utah's situation as a case study on these pay disparities to improve the formulas for all of us. It is a top priority for Hill Air Force Base and a top priority for me. I suspect, in many of your cases, it is a priority as well.

I urge my colleagues to vote for my amendment.

Mr. President, my thanks to my colleague from Michigan. I think it is clear that we share the objective together.

I also want to point out that I do share your concerns and am anxious to work with you. In my perfect world, we would do this in conference because every day this is not figured out is a day that our troops are not getting the

appropriate pay. If that doesn't happen, let's work together; let's find that common ground between the objective we are trying to accomplish here and the safeguards that you are worried about.

I yield back my time.

Vote on Amendment No. 3697

I ask for the yeas and nays.

Mr. President, Tremonton UT, is a quiet town in the Bear River Valley, known for, among other things, the Box Elder County Fair, now celebrating its 100th year. It is the kind of place where folks wave as they walk past, where neighbors look out for each other, and where life feels far from the noise and the chaos of other parts of the country.

But on Sunday, August 17, that peace was shattered. Sergeant Lee Sorensen and Officer Eric Estrada, two devoted public servants, responded to a domestic disturbance call. In the line of duty, both were shot and killed while protecting their community. Their loss has left a hole not just in the families but in Tremonton and across Utah.

Earlier today, we laid a wreath at the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier in their honor. It was a humble reminder that sacrifice, whether on foreign battlefields or the quiet streets of our towns, is what preserves our freedom.

We all know policing is never easy. Officers step into the unknown often with seconds or less to decide between life and death. Domestic calls are among the most dangerous. That night in Tremonton, Lee and Eric faced lethal fire. Yet their courage saved lives. A deputy and his K-9 were injured but survived. Others made it home because Lee and Eric did not.

Sergeant Sorensen, a 16-year veteran, was known as steady and kind. He checked on grieving neighbors, looked out for late-night grocery store employees, and every year rode his bike in the county fair parade, tossing candy with a smile.

Officer Estrada, just 31, was a husband and a father, known for his humor and compassion and for putting people at ease.

Together, these men embodied the best of Utah law enforcement: service rooted in responsibility.

To give you perspective, the Tremonton-Garland Police Department has just 17 people, officers and staff together. They didn't get to stop and grieve. They had to carry on, leaning on each other and on a community that has shown incredible kindness.

At their funeral, thousands lined the streets in the rain. Blue ribbons appeared on homes and storefronts, and money was raised for their families. That is Utah at its best: neighbors locking arms and lifting one another.

Utah has always honored sacrifice. My pioneer ancestors climbed Ensign Peak in 1847. They looked out over a barren desert and imagined what could be: a thriving home built on faith, family, and community. They didn't have much, but they had courage. They knew the future would demand hardship and unity.

Sergeant Sorensen and Officer Estrada carried that same pioneer spirit. They stood watch so others could rest. They chose duty over comfort. They walked into danger so others could walk in peace.

President Kennedy famously said:

Ask not what your country can do for you--ask what you can

do for your country.

Lee and Eric lived that creed. And as President Ronald Reagan reminded us, freedom is never more than one generation away from extinction. On that quiet street in Tremonton, they stood against that extinction.

Deputy Allred, who was shot and survived, said while recovering:

If I could ask one thing to come from this senseless

tragedy, don't forget how much love and support is being

handed out right now. Communities are coming together.

Kindness and love are being shared. Keep this moving forward,

and don't stop ever.

That is the charge before us. Our mission is to ensure Lee and Eric are remembered not as headlines but as symbols of Utah values and American courage. And our commitment should be to work for solutions to better support our law enforcement, strengthen protections for families and individuals, and bring peace of mind to our hard-working citizens. So let us pledge today: Sergeant Sorensen and Officer Estrada will not be forgotten. Their service, their laughter, their sacrifice live on in us. May we honor them not only with our words but with action worthy of their examples.

I ask for the yeas and nays.

I know of no further debate on the Brown nomination.

I understand the Senate received H.J. Res. 89 from the House.

I move to proceed to H.J. Res. 89.

Mr. President, I ask for the yeas and nays.

Madam President, I ask unanimous consent to waive the mandatory quorum call with respect to the Kushner nomination.

Mr. President, having been a U.S. Senator for exactly 131 days, I am attempting to follow the advice of my great-grandmother. We are very proud of her. She was the first woman school board president of the Salt Lake City School District. Grandma Genevieve. We called her Nana. She said:

Listen first, speak when it matters, and let your actions

carry the weight.

That may sound like it is radical in our social media-driven world here in DC, but I am committed to following her advice.

As I begin my service in the Senate, it matters to me that both what is said and what is done in this body will not just make noise but will actually make a difference for the citizens of the Nation.

Ten days ago, I invited the citizens of Utah and the Nation to join me in my preparation for this maiden floor speech today. I invited them and all of you to join me virtually and go places that speak to the heart and the soul of this Nation.

I visited four places where our bedrock strength and enduring principles are found and where I believe our bold future will begin. I have called it my ``Think Before You Speak: A Pilgrimage to American Principles'' tour.

I began my journey with a hike to Ensign Peak. It is a small hill just above the Salt Lake Valley. It is where my pioneer ancestors went to talk about pioneer values and visions. Just after arriving in the Salt Lake Valley, my pioneer ancestors climbed that very peak. What they saw there wasn't what was but what would be.

They looked out over a barren desert--and I am talking not hardly a tree--in the Salt Lake Valley. They envisioned a home for faith and family and a crossroads not just for the West but for the world. President Gordon B. Hinckley, who is a pioneer descendant and a leader of the church, once reflected on that moment atop Ensign Peak. He said if a reporter had been there that July morning of 1847, they would have scoffed at the idea.

Imagine this: a ragtag group of exiles driven from their homes, standing in worn-out boots that they had walked 1,000 miles in, nearly 1,000 miles away from the nearest settlement. They were in an untried climate. They had never raised a crop there. They had not built a structure of any kind.

What were they thinking? Well, they didn't just dream. They came down from that peak and went to work.

As I stood at that summit, I had a strong wind against my face, and I couldn't help but think of my pioneer ancestors, who faced those same winds with much heavier burdens. I saw them pushing forward with courage and faith, laying the foundation for the life we now enjoy.

From that hike, up there on the hill, I couldn't see beneath the green canopy. That same place where there was hardly a tree now had a green canopy. But even though I couldn't see it all, I knew the secret to Utah's success. And if you have been there, you know it too. It is the people--people known for their kindness, for their hard work, for their resilience, for their independence, and for their deep, abiding faith in God. The spirit that built this place is still alive, and it calls us all to be what our pioneer ancestors need us to be for the generations they saw.

We don't get everything right in Utah, but we built something remarkable: a strong economy, a fiscally responsible government, educational opportunities, and real upward mobility. Those aren't accidents. Washington could use a little more Ensign Peak thinking and a lot more pioneer doing.

My listening tour next took me to hallowed ground. When I visited Arlington National Cemetery, I found myself drawn to reading the names and the words on those white stones--Korea, World War I, World War II, Vietnam--and where names should have been: unknown, unknown, unknown; and occasionally, strangely, on the back of the markers, names like Ruth, Ethel, Alta, and the words ``His Wife.''

I paused, and I tried to hear the voices of those who rest in that sacred ground. What would they say to me, to us U.S. Senators, charged with safeguarding the Constitution and the freedom they gave their lives to defend?

Sometimes, those voices whispered gently, but sometimes they speak with striking clarity, and never, ever do they ask my political party. Those honored dead don't care if future generations have the latest gadgets or a life of ease, but they do care deeply that those generations have souls--souls with the strength forged by doing hard things; souls that cherish freedom, pursue peace, and carry the moral courage to stand for what is right.

They remind me that the Constitution was not just a clever document; it was and remains divinely inspired. President Ronald Reagan said:

Freedom is one of the deepest and noblest aspirations of

the human spirit.

Those who rest beneath the white stones at Arlington didn't die just so Americans could live free. They died so that freedom could take root wherever the human spirit longs for it. Their legacy isn't just national; it is universal. Their sacrifice calls us to something higher.

Two headstones right next to each other caught my attention: William W. Kirby and William W. Kirby, Jr. The father had fought in World War I and lived 85 years. The son fought in World War II and died in combat, earning the Purple Heart, at age 20.

Then it hit me: family. I recognized that families fight for freedom. As Americans, we should all stand at Arlington as if we lost our son, our daughter, our wife, our friend--because we have. Our honored dead are indeed our brothers and sisters. So let's remember that we honor best those who have gone before by standing for freedom today.

I walked into the Holocaust Museum alone, but if you have been there, you know I wasn't alone; I was surrounded by thousands of young Americans. And I found myself wondering: Do they see what I see, or do they see without seeing and hear without understanding?

This place forces us to confront the darkest chapters of human history and ask whether we have really learned the lessons. As I walked the halls, I was struck by how easily a human life can be devalued. And I kept asking: How? How did so many participate? How did others stand by? How did some serve to enable? And how have so many already forgotten?

The late Rabbi Lord Jonathan Sacks once identified both the problem and the solution when he warned:

When morality is outsourced to either the market or the

state, society has no substance, only systems. And systems

are not enough.

Today, we are outsourcing more than just governance. We are outsourcing responsibility. Congress outsources lawmaking to the executive branch. Communities outsource compassion to agencies. Parents outsource teaching values to institutions. Citizens outsource critical thinking to curated social media. And far too often, we outsource the truth itself to voices that might be loud but not always wise.

Rabbi Sacks also said:

Morality cannot be outsourced because it depends on each of

us.

The Holocaust Museum reminds us that truth, like morality, must be studied, not streamed; learned, not assigned; and understood with the weight of history, not just the opinions of the moment.

The values our Nation needs--moral clarity, historical understanding, a commitment to peace--can't be manufactured by government or mass- produced by culture. They must be grown, like they always have been, in the cottage industries of family and communities.

For my fourth visit, I went to the National Museum of African American History and Culture, because I believe unity starts with understanding. Like many Americans, I wasn't raised with firsthand experiences of the injustices faced by Black Americans, Native Americans, and others who have endured the heavy burden of prejudice, but I have come to understand that listening and learning are not one- time acts. They require humility, honesty, and a lifetime commitment.

As I walked through the museum, I found myself thinking of and hearing

the voices of my dear friend and former colleague Congresswoman Mia Love. Mia broke barriers as the first Black Republican woman elected to Congress. She used her voice to lift and to call us all to be our better angel. And now she is one.

At her funeral, her children read a final message she had written to the Nation, words that deserve to be remembered. Mia wrote:

Some have forgotten the math of America. Whenever you

divide, you diminish. The goodness and compassion of the

American people is a multiplier that simply cannot be

measured.

She reminded us that America's greatness doesn't come from uniformity; it comes from unity. At a time when division too often drives out decency, Mia's words offer a roadmap back to our shared purpose--not based on race, status, or party, but on the simple truth that we are all Americans.

My visit to the African American Museum also reaffirmed something I deeply believe: that as long as bigotry, discrimination, and unfair treatment still exist, we cannot claim to be united. To fully heal, somehow, America must learn the delicate dance of leaving things behind and, at the same time, never forgetting them. Easy to say, hard to do, and together we must do it.

For her courage and conviction, her voice, her vision for America, Mia absolutely belongs in the African American Museum and even more in the hearts of every American.

Well, thank you for joining me on that journey. We could spend days discussing the principles of each of these locations. If we did, I am afraid I would be on this floor longer than my good friend Cory Booker.

I do want to thank my Senate colleagues and so many citizens who have shared their lessons from these sacred places, and I want you to know your insight will guide my service.

Now, in the very short time I have had to travel my State since becoming a Senator, I have felt something clear and consistent: Citizens want President Trump to be successful. Citizens also want Congress to work, not just show up, not just argue. They want us to succeed.

I have said many times, I want both the President and this institution, the Senate, to be wildly successful. Sometimes that desire requires us to be wildly honest, something that I think we will all agree we could use a little more of in Washington, DC.

The way I see it, the odds of Congress delivering real results for the American people go up dramatically when we start telling each other the truth, not just behind closed doors but out in the open where the public can see it, what I believe is their right to know. Honest policy conversations on issues that are vital to the fundamental of our future matter more than ever.

I have spent most of my time in Congress focused on four major priorities that I believe deserve a fresh and honest look from all of us in the Senate.

The first, energy. So let's be honest, it is time we talk more openly about the importance of clean energy. Consumers are asking for cleaner, more responsible energy choices. At the same time, we need to be realistic about the demands of powering a modern nation. Affordability matters. Reliability matters. And we must protect, not surrender, our energy independence.

President Trump has put America back on the right path when it comes to energy. I am also convinced that a healthy economy and a healthier environment are not mutually exclusive. I actually believe they are compatible and inseparable. The simple truth is, Americans want energy that is more affordable, reliable, and cleaner. They deserve honest, commonsense policies that deliver all three.

No. 2, our local communities. All right. My colleagues from the East, bear with me. It may be hard to grasp just how deeply Federal overreach affects daily life in Utah. Think about this. In some counties, over 90 percent of the land is owned and controlled not by local leaders in communities but by a distant Federal Government. That is not theoretical. It is daily life for most of us in the West.

I often say that the best environmentalists in the world are Utah's farmers and ranchers. By the way, they hate when I say that, but we live closest to the land. We know it; we care for it; and we depend on it. We don't want to be managed. We want to be trusted. We want stewardship, not control. I look forward to working with President Trump to restore local control and stewardship over the land we love.

No. 3, China. For decades, we have operated under the hope that bringing China to the economic table--even as they stole our intellectual property, cheated on labor practices, and manipulated trade--would somehow lead them toward democracy. Let's be honest. It hasn't. In fact, they have moved further away from our values.

This isn't just about trade or technology. It is about national security, economic freedom, and a commitment to the rule of law. We need fact-based policies with meaningful and measurable consequences. It is time to protect the American dream, not subsidize the Chinese one.

No. 4, debt and deficit. OK. Here is some wildly honest, equal- opportunity offender talk. We, and I mean we, Democrats and Republicans in this body, are not being honest with the American people when we pretend that Social Security, Medicaid, and Medicare don't need reform. And we are equally dishonest when we weaponize fear, telling seniors and the most vulnerable that reform means abandonment. It doesn't. It never has.

If we act now, we can protect those most in need, preserve programs for future generations, and avoid the harsher consequences of doing nothing. It is time to deliver sensible solutions and real results rather than just blame politics. Utahns understand thrift, accountability, and the value of doing hard things. It is time Congress caught up with that wisdom.

Here is our choice: We can have an honest conversation about these challenges now or we can be the ones who will have to deliver the devastating, draconian, harmful cuts that will inevitably come if we don't.

So, yes, I am convinced that honest conversations received with humility are what will make us truly successful in the U.S. Senate, and our success as a nation depends on each of us and all of us in this Chamber being unflinchingly honest and working together to make America wildly successful.

Now, hang in there. I am almost done. I have to point out one more thing. Fortunately, the Senate has provided each of us something to remind us of all the principles I have shared today. What is it? The tradition of awarding pins to the Members of the Senate began in 1965.

At first glance, these pins seem little more than a way for security to wave us through security. But as my colleague the senior Senator from Utah likes to joke, his pin is his ``Sorry, Senator'' pin.

When Senator Lee was first elected, he may have looked just a little bit more like a page than a Senator. Whenever security stopped him, he would simply point to his pin, and the guard would inevitably reply, ``Sorry, Senator. Come on in.''

Maybe it is my years in the jewelry business, but this little pin means much more. You know, it is crafted from 14-karat gold, the jeweler's favorite. Pure gold, though beautiful, is too soft. It bends under pressure, but 14-karat gold has the right balance: beauty with strength and practicality. It is a fitting symbol for our role here; strong, balanced, and practical.

Each morning as I fasten the pin to my jacket, the gold reminds me of the standard we should uphold. And the tiny diamond? In the industry, we call it a ``canardly'' diamond. Wait for it. That means you can hardly see it.

But even the smallest diamond reflects light. That sparkle reminds me daily of our responsibility to radiate the light of truth, to be guided not by partisan squabbles but by simple truth.

I encourage all of my colleagues to occasionally pause and examine your pin. At its heart, the official Senate seal, rich with symbolism-- peace and strength, freedom protected by law, authority tempered by responsibility--all guided by the light of truth and the words ``E Pluribus Unum'' to remind us of unity.

And that familiar image, sticks bound together, which, by the way, it was my great-grandmother Genevieve Curtis--Nana--who established that bundle of sticks as the Curtis family's pioneer symbol, a reminder that we are stronger when bound together in unity.

I hope that each of us as individual Senators, and all of us collectively as the U.S. Senate, will strive to uphold the values reflected in this tiny yet powerful symbol, principles that have made Utah strong and America extraordinary.

Mr. President, with lessons learned from the principles found in important locations and sacred sites, let us commit to the values that unite us as a nation. To my colleagues and friends, I hope you see these principles not just in historic places but in the spaces you walk and work every day.

Together, we can pursue a vision for America that continues to be as bold and audacious as our beginning while delivering dignity, freedom, and opportunity for all.

I yield the floor.

Mr. President, I rise today to recognize and honor Representative Ludmya ``Mia'' Love, who has been battling glioblastoma.

Mia and I were first elected as mayors together in 2010, and from the very beginning, I saw firsthand the energy,

passion, and optimism she brings to public service. I always say that there is an understanding amongst mayors, and we make some of the best legislators. Together in Utah, we worked on projects that shaped our communities, and I had the privilege of watching her take that same determination to a national stage when she ran for and won a seat in the U.S. House of Representatives, something I shared with her after I joined her in Washington in 2017.

Mia is young, vibrant, and full of life. She carries herself with an infectious energy, always greeting me in a way that lifts my spirits. No matter the challenges she has faced--whether in governance or as a trailblazer in politics--she meets them with grace and determination. Being a Black woman in the Republican Party comes with its own set of hurdles, but Mia has never let barriers define her. Instead, she breaks them. Her memoir was appropriately titled, ``Qualified.'' Mia was qualified to break barriers and inspire people to see great possibilities--not because of her heritage, gender, faith tradition, or political party--Mia was qualified because of the content of her character.

In Congress, she was deeply respected by her colleagues and admired by her constituents, not just for her policies, but for the way she made people feel: valued, heard, and empowered. Her decision to stop treatment and cherish the time she has left with her family is a reflection of the strength and clarity with which she has always lived her life.

I am grateful for the time I have known Mia, for the work we have done together, and for the example she continues to set for so many. My thoughts are with her, her family, and all who love her during this difficult time.