A Tong sat quietly on the cold ground, his tiny body curled into itself, his sad eyes searching every passing shadow. Each sound made his head lift with hope, but every time, his shoulders sank again. His mommy was gone. The place that once smelled like her warmth now felt empty and frightening.
His little hands reached out again and again, touching the dirt where she once rested. He remembered her heartbeat, steady and comforting, and the way she wrapped her tail around him when he was scared. Now there was only silence. The wind moved the leaves, but it did not answer him.
A Tong let out a soft cry, not loud enough to call the world, but deep enough to hold all his fear. His eyes, wide and shining, scanned the path leading home. Maybe she would return. Maybe she was just late. Hope stayed, even when hunger and cold crept closer.
Hours passed. The sun climbed and then began to fall. A Tong grew tired, but he refused to sleep. What if his mommy came back and he missed her? He stayed awake, watching, waiting, believing.
When footsteps finally approached, his heart raced. He lifted his head, eyes full of longing. It was not his mommy. Still, the person stopped, noticing the trembling baby and the sadness written across his face. Gentle hands picked him up, warm and careful.
A Tong cried again, but this time someone held him close. Though it wasn’t the home he searched for, it was safety. Wrapped in kindness, his eyes slowly closed.
Somewhere deep inside, A Tong kept his mommy’s love alive. And in that fragile hope, a new chapter quietly began, built from patience, memory, and the promise that love never truly disappears.
