Early in the morning, baby monkey Vicky sat unusually still in her corner, her tiny arms wrapped around her belly. She didn’t jump, didn’t play, and didn’t even respond when her favorite toy rolled beside her. Something wasn’t right. Her normally sparkling eyes looked dull, and a soft whimper escaped her lips.
In another room, her mother, sensing something was wrong, rushed over in a panic. The moment she saw Vicky curled up, her mother’s heart dropped. She jumped down quickly, landing beside her little one, gently touching Vicky’s head and sniffing her body, searching for signs of pain or injury.
Vicky leaned into her mom, weak and tired, letting out a tiny cry. It wasn’t loud, but it was filled with discomfort and longing. Her mother instantly began grooming her gently, using her hands and lips to soothe her—an instinctive action that brought a bit of comfort to the frightened baby.
Mom then scooped Vicky up into her arms and sat down in the warmest spot by the window. She wrapped her arms around Vicky, holding her close, rocking her slowly while humming soft monkey sounds of reassurance. The touch of her mother, the warmth, the scent—everything made Vicky feel safer.
The caretaker, noticing the situation, brought some warm milk and medicine. Mom watched carefully, making sure Vicky took it slowly. Bit by bit, Vicky sipped, her body relaxing with every drop.
By the end of the day, she was no longer trembling. Though still quiet, Vicky’s breathing had steadied, and she clung gently to her mom’s fur, not letting go.
No matter how small or sick she felt, Vicky knew one thing was true—her mother’s love would always find her, even in her weakest moment.
