At 6:13 A.M., I saw the miracle of birth once again, but this time it was my daughter. She did not come out crying. Rather, she was silent, limp, and not breathing. But she had a heartbeat. The pediatrician immediately intubated her and began to give her life-sustaining oxygen. As the medical staff prepared a ventilator for our daughter, I took over the responsibility of squeezing the bag that delivered oxygen into her tiny lungs. As I was doing this, I got a call from some of our missionary friends. They asked if I wanted them to come in their airplane to provide rapid transport to the city where more help was available. They were soon on their way.