I have now sprinkled the story with “gigantic gulps” to help the wonder go down more easily.

Who knows? Perhaps, on another day, the baker’s shop was closed that morning; the little pig set up his shop too late; the little porklet, once exhumed, was cold and stiff and half digested!

There was a funeral; with proper care and ceremony, a dear departed piglet laid to rest.

We must join our hands and bow our heads in thanks that such was not this day; The piglet lives; his brother lives; and every week, O Happy Wednesday!

Of course, when we tell small children stories, we must spur them to action and not inaction. It would be a cold, hard tale where bravery when unrewarded and trial bore no fruit but inevitable sorrow.