Early one misty morning, a soft cry echoed near the edge of a quiet village. A local woman stopped in her tracks, ears alert. There, hidden under dry leaves and clinging to a root, was a newborn baby monkey—Aba.
He was tiny, barely the size of a hand, with closed eyes and a trembling body. His fur was still damp, and his breaths came in weak, shallow puffs. He had been abandoned shortly after birth, left alone and helpless.
The woman gently wrapped him in her scarf and rushed home, her heart aching at the sight.
Once home, she placed little Aba in a box lined with soft cloth and began warming him with gentle hands. His cries were faint, more like whimpers. His belly was empty, and his body showed signs of chill.
Soon, the rescue team was contacted. They arrived with formula milk, heating pads, and gentle care. Aba latched onto the milk bottle weakly, his tiny fingers gripping as if afraid to let go.
As the hours passed, he stopped shivering. He blinked slowly and curled into the warmth of a soft teddy beside him. A small sigh escaped his lips.
Though still fragile, Aba was safe now.
The rescuers promised to give him 24/7 care, bottle-feedings every few hours, and warmth like a mother’s hug. His journey wouldn’t be easy, but he’d never be alone again.
The woman who found him watched silently, tears in her eyes. “You were meant to be saved,” she whispered.
And Aba, with his tiny hand resting against her finger, seemed to agree.
