The Story of Baby Sara
One quiet evening, my wife and I were sitting on our porch, enjoying the cool breeze and the chorus of crickets that filled the air. The sky was painted with shades of pink and orange as the sun dipped below the horizon. It was one of those rare moments when everything felt calm and peaceful. As we sipped our tea, our neighbor came by with some news. “Have you heard about the old man by the lake?” he asked. We shook our heads, curious about what he had to say.
“There’s an orphaned baby monkey living with him,” he continued. “The poor thing was found alone in the woods. The old man has been trying to take care of her, but he’s struggling. He doesn’t have much—just a broken-down hut and barely enough food for himself. The little monkey cries day and night, hungry and scared.”
Hearing this broke our hearts. We couldn’t imagine a tiny baby monkey, all alone in the world and dependent on someone who had so little to give. My wife and I exchanged a knowing look. Without saying a word, we knew we had to help. The next morning, we set out for the lake, guided by our neighbor’s directions. The path was winding and overgrown, but eventually, we reached a small clearing where we saw the old man’s hut. It was a humble shelter, made of old, weathered wood and patched with bits of cloth. Nearby, a couple of buffalo grazed lazily, watched over by the old man. As we approached, we heard the cries. They were faint at first, but as we got closer, the sound became clearer—tiny, desperate cries that pierced the quiet of the morning. My heart ached with every whimper. I knew we had found the baby monkey.
“Hello,” I called gently to the old man as we approached. He looked up, surprised to see us. His face was lined with age and weariness, but there was a kindness in his eye’s“Good morning,” he replied, his voice raspy and tired. “What brings you here?”
“We heard about the baby monkey,” my wife said softly, her eyes scanning the hut until she saw the source of the cries. There, inside a makeshift cage made from an old bamboo fish trap, was the tiniest monkey I’d ever seen. Her fur was messy, and her big eyes were filled with tears as she cried out in hunger. The old man sighed heavily and nodded. “Her name is Sara,” he said. “I found her alone in the woods. I tried my best to care for her, but I’m afraid I don’t have much. I can barely feed myself. ”Seeing Sara like this, so small and fragile, broke our hearts. We could see the old man cared for her deeply, but he was struggling. My wife stepped closer, her voice gentle and kind. “Would you let us take care of Sara?” she asked. “We can provide for her and make sure she gets the care she needs.”
The old man looked at us with a mixture of relief and sadness. He nodded slowly, understanding that this was the best thing for Sara. “Thank you,” he whispered, his voice choked with emotion. “Please, take her. Give her the life she deserves. “With great care, we lifted Sara from the bamboo fish trap. Her cries softened as my wife held her close, gently rocking her in her arms. It was as if Sara sensed she was safe now, that she had found a new home. We thanked the old man and promised to bring Sara back to visit him. As we made our way back home, Sara nestled in my wife’s arms, the sun began to rise higher in the sky, casting a warm glow over everything.
From that day on, Sara became a beloved part of our family. The old man remained a part of her life, too, often visiting to see how she was growing. Together, we made sure Sara was loved, cared for, and happy. She had found a home with us, and in return, she filled our lives with joy and laughter.
