The evening air was quiet, filled with the soft chirps of crickets and the gentle hum of a fan. In the corner of the room, little Nino, a baby monkey just a few weeks old, lay on a soft blanket—his eyes heavy, his breath slow.
But earlier, he hadn’t been so calm.
He had spent the afternoon scratching, wiggling, and fussing, clearly uncomfortable. A rash had appeared on his bottom, red and tender. No matter how many cuddles or lullabies Mom gave him, he couldn’t settle down.
Now, under the soft lamp glow, Mom gently applied a thin layer of Desitin cream to his irritated skin.
Nino didn’t cry.
He didn’t flinch.
He just sighed.
The coolness of the cream, the softness of her touch, the quiet whisper of her voice… it was everything he needed. His tiny arms stretched out, his fingers curled, and slowly, the tension left his body.
He let out a tiny squeak—one last sound before sleep took over.
Mom smiled, rubbing in the last bit of cream with care. “There you go, my sweet boy. All better now.”
His breathing deepened. His chest rose and fell, slow and peaceful. The pain was fading, the comfort was growing, and his trust in her hands was total.
She pulled the blanket gently over him and gave him one last kiss on the forehead.
In the safety of her love, with the rash soothed and the night quiet, Nino drifted off—content, safe, and deeply loved.
