In the deep quiet of the forest, a soft sound echoed through the trees — a tiny, broken cry, fragile like a whisper in the wind.
It was the cry of life… and of abandonment.
A newborn baby monkey, barely minutes old, lay on the damp ground beneath a tall tree. Her umbilical cord still attached, her skin wrinkled and damp, she cried out — not knowing what she needed, only that she was alone.
Her mother had walked away just after birth — perhaps confused, scared, or too young to understand what to do.
That cry… it reached someone.
A rescue team nearby, responding to another call, stopped in their tracks. One volunteer turned her head. “Did you hear that?” she asked.
They followed the sound through thick brush — and there she was. A tiny body curled like a fallen leaf, gasping out soft cries with eyes still shut.
“Oh no…” the rescuer whispered, rushing to kneel beside her. “She’s just been born.”
They wrapped her carefully in a warm cloth, shielding her from ants and cold wind. “You’re safe now, little one,” she murmured, pressing the baby gently to her chest.
At the rescue center, the baby — later named Lulu — was placed in an incubator. Her breathing was shallow. Her heartbeat faint. But she was alive.
And that one heartbreaking cry had saved her.
In the days that followed, Lulu grew stronger. Her skin turned pinker, her cries louder, her tiny fingers gripped tighter. The sadness in her beginning was slowly replaced by comfort, warmth, and love.
She didn’t have her mother’s arms…
But she had a second chance.
