John Bartel was a healthy, athletic, twenty-year-old young man who was gradually taking full charge of the family dairy farm with all its multiple duties.

It was a beautiful spring day in the lusciously green Fraser Valley, British Columbia. The grass was just right for filling the huge silos for winter feed. John was busily unloading the heavy fodder into the silage cutter and blower when a large bunch momentarily stopped the conveyer belt. By sheer habit, John stepped on the guilty bunch to get it moving again while his eyes selected the next place to insert his pitchfork, when he felt a tug on his right leg and he watched in horror as his foot and then his leg were shredded and sent up into the silo.

When he finally extracted himself, all he had left was a three-inch stub. Praying ear…