In a quiet corner of the forest, high on a narrow ledge near a crumbled tree trunk, a tiny orphan baby monkey sat alone. His fur was messy and thin, his ribs slightly visible through his tiny body, and his cries echoed through the trees like a desperate song of hunger and fear.
He had no name yet—no one to call him by one. Just days ago, his mother had fallen ill and passed away near the edge of the jungle. The baby had been clinging to her weak body, not understanding why she no longer moved. When she was gone, he wandered aimlessly, searching for comfort—until he ended up stuck on a small ridge above a steep slope.
Now, his tiny voice screamed into the open air. He was cold, hungry, and terrified. His belly ached from emptiness, and his throat was raw from crying. With no one around to help, he hugged his legs to his chest and rocked back and forth.
A bird flew overhead. Leaves rustled. But no mother came.
Luckily, a group of wildlife rescuers working nearby heard his distress. Following the sound, they spotted the trembling figure peeking over the edge of the slope, his little hands barely gripping the bark.
“He’s stuck,” one rescuer whispered. “And starving.”
They worked quickly but carefully, crawling toward him and calming him with gentle coos. The baby flinched at first—but when he saw the bottle of milk, his instincts took over. He reached out weakly.
Within minutes, he was safe in warm arms, wrapped in a towel and finally sipping milk with relief. Though the road ahead would be hard, his life had just begun again—with hope, care, and a new chance at family.
