As I ran down a dirt road in the village of Nandarola, Nicaragua, I could hear the bus approaching behind me, its air horn tauntingly blowing. With four-year-old Miguel on my shoulders, the two of us were racing the bus back to his small house. It was the last day of my visit to this remote community. It was a poignant moment, waving goodbye to the mothers and children — Miguel included — as we left, and one of many fulfilling and joyful experiences I had in Nicaragua.