Not long ago, my little girl got a new book. Little Pig Biddle Pig Little pig, biddle pig, pretty and clean, sweet as alfalfa and grand as a queen. Little pig, biddle pig, not far away, those pigglily piglets squeal, "Won't you come play." Little pig, biddle pig, snout

I can still see him, choking back strong emotions as he told the story of the night he nearly died. This grown man had been a baby at the time, living in Nicaragua while my grandfather was a surveyor for the Trans-Continental Highway. Their home was in a small village, far from civilization.