EXCERPT As the three sat down at the table, Pippi took her place under it. Zahra inquired about the menu. ‘We always have the same thing for Easter,’ Mrs. Peterson said with pride. ‘Frank, will you get the ham?’ Mr. Peterson pulled his armed chair back from the head of the table and headed to the kitchen. ‘We have a Southern Glazed Ham. It’s a specialty here in Virginia.’ Zahra didn’t want to have to tell her Hosts that she didn’t eat pork…