Baby monkey Yaya sat alone on the small cart outdoors, her tiny body curled inward as if trying to protect her fragile heart. The open air felt too wide, too empty. Sounds of birds, wind, and distant footsteps filled the space, but none of them were the sound she wanted. She looked forward again and again, eyes fixed on the path ahead, searching for one familiar figure—daddy.
Her cries were soft at first, then slowly grew louder. Not angry cries, but sad ones. Each sound carried hope mixed with fear. Yaya didn’t understand why she was waiting or how long it would take. She only knew that daddy always came before. And now he wasn’t there.
The cart felt cold beneath her. She hugged her knees, tail wrapped tightly around herself. Every time movement passed by, her head lifted quickly. Was that him? Her eyes widened, then dimmed again when it wasn’t. Disappointment settled deeper into her chest with every false hope.
People walked nearby, but Yaya didn’t reach for them. Her gaze stayed forward, loyal and patient. She believed. That belief kept her sitting there, crying toward the distance, trusting that daddy would hear her voice somehow.
A breeze brushed her fur, making her shiver. Her cries turned shaky. She rubbed her eyes with tiny hands, exhausted from waiting. Still, she did not lie down. She stayed upright, alert, refusing to miss the moment daddy might appear.
Time passed slowly.
Then footsteps grew closer. Yaya froze. Her ears perked. She leaned forward, heart racing. When she finally saw him, her cries changed instantly—louder, brighter, full of relief. Her whole body reached out, arms stretching as far as they could go.
Daddy lifted her from the cart, holding her close. Yaya clung tightly, burying her face into him. The crying stopped, replaced by quiet sniffles and deep breaths. Outdoors no longer felt scary.
That moment taught one simple truth: even the bravest waiting hearts need reassurance. Yaya wasn’t weak. She was loyal. And her tears were just love calling out for the one she trusted most.
