The tiny baby monkey sat in the corner of her new room, eyes wide, body trembling, unsure of everything around her. Just yesterday, she was rescued — weak, dirty, and frightened — and today she found herself in a place she had never seen before. Soft blankets replaced rough ground, warm light instead of cold night, but still… she didn’t understand. It felt too quiet, too safe, too different. Her little heart beat fast, not knowing if she should trust this new world or run from it.
Mom moved slowly, kneeling down so she didn’t frighten her. She offered milk, the bottle shaking slightly in her hand as the baby stared. The smell was warm and familiar, but the baby hesitated. She sniffed, stepped back, then forward again with confusion written across her tiny face. She wanted comfort, but fear held her like a shadow. When Mom reached out a hand, the baby flinched, unsure if touch meant safety or harm. She didn’t know yet — but she wanted to believe.
Minutes passed quietly. The baby finally crawled closer, tiny fingers curling around Mom’s finger like it was a lifeline. Her eyes softened, though still filled with questions. She took the bottle gently, drinking slowly, eyes never leaving Mom’s face as if searching for answers. Was this home? Was she safe? Could she trust this human who smelled like kindness?
After milk, Mom wrapped her in a soft cloth, rocking her gently. The baby’s breathing slowed. Her fear didn’t disappear, but it softened — just a little. She pressed her tiny head against Mom’s chest, listening to the steady heartbeat that promised she was not alone anymore.
The world was new and strange, but hope flickered. A new life was beginning — one slow heartbeat at a time.
