Baby Monkey Minea cried painfully, her voice thin and trembling as she curled her feet close to her chest. Her tiny toes had turned black, frightening to see, and every touch made her cry harder. Confusion mixed with pain, leaving her shaking and helpless.
She tried to stand, then collapsed, screaming in panic. The world suddenly felt unsafe. Minea did not understand what was happening to her body, only that something was terribly wrong. Her eyes searched wildly for comfort, shining with fear and tears.
Mom rushed to her side, heart pounding at the sight of those darkened toes. She lifted Minea carefully, avoiding pressure, holding her as gently as fragile glass. Minea screamed again, clutching mom’s shirt, burying her face for safety. The pain was sharp, but the fear was sharper.
Mom examined the toes closely, worry tightening her breath. She cleaned them softly, whispering reassurance with every movement. Minea cried through it, voice cracking, body trembling, but she did not pull away. She trusted the hands that had always protected her.
After cleaning, mom wrapped the tiny toes to keep them warm and safe. She held Minea against her chest, rocking slowly, letting the cries drain away. Gradually, the screams softened into sobs. Minea’s breathing slowed, though pain still lingered.
Warmth, closeness, and gentle words became her medicine. Mom stayed alert, watching every breath, knowing this needed careful attention and time. There would be no rushing today.
Minea rested weakly in mom’s arms, eyes half closed, still whimpering now and then. The blackened toes frightened everyone, but love surrounded her completely.
Pain had taken her voice, but care answered it. In that quiet moment, Minea learned something powerful. Even when her body hurt and fear felt unbearable, she would never face it alone. Mom stayed until hope again.
