It was a quiet afternoon, but little Koy’s world felt anything but peaceful. She sat on the floor near the wooden door, her tiny shoulders slumped, her eyes filled with tears. Beside her sat her mother—still and silent—but the warmth between them felt distant.
Koy had tried to follow her mom around earlier, wanting to play, to cuddle, to be held. But her mom seemed tired, maybe stressed, and kept pushing her away gently. Koy didn’t understand. Her heart, so small and sensitive, had shattered with each rejection.
So she sat… right by the door. Her safe spot. The place where she often waited for kind humans to come visit. But today, even they hadn’t arrived yet.
Her soft whimpering turned into weeping. The kind that came from deep inside—a little monkey’s way of saying, “Please don’t ignore me.”
Her mother watched her but stayed still. Maybe she needed a moment. Maybe she didn’t know how to show comfort. Wild mothers sometimes express love in silence—but little Koy didn’t know that.
She scooted a bit closer to her mom, resting her head gently on her arm. For a moment, neither moved. Then, slowly, Koy’s mom turned to her, gave her a small sniff, and placed a calming hand on Koy’s back.
It wasn’t a hug. It wasn’t loud love.
But for Koy, it was enough to stop crying.
Sometimes, even a quiet touch means everything.
