In the quiet corner of the house, right near the wooden door, sat two tiny baby monkeys—PiPi and PoPo—a pair of inseparable twins. Their soft fur was still ruffled from nap time, and their wide eyes shimmered with sadness.
Mom had stepped out just moments earlier to grab their milk bottles from the kitchen. But to PiPi and PoPo, it felt like she had disappeared forever.
PiPi let out the first sob—low, whimpering, confused.
PoPo followed right behind with a louder, broken cry.
Then the two leaned against each other, calling together, their voices echoing through the hallway.
Their little hands scratched at the door gently. Not to escape—but to reach her.
The one who held them every day.
The one who fed them, bathed them, loved them.
Their cries weren’t loud. They were soft, but so full of emotion it could melt anyone’s heart.
Inside the kitchen, Mom heard them and rushed back. But for that one minute, PiPi and PoPo believed they’d been forgotten.
When the door opened, both twins jumped up in their wobbly way.
Mom gasped, “Oh no, my babies! Don’t cry!”
She scooped them up together into her arms. Tears still clung to their cheeks, but their cries began to fade the moment they felt her warmth.
They nuzzled into her chest, clinging tightly like little vines.
“Mommy’s right here,” she whispered, kissing their heads. “Always here.”
As the three cuddled near the doorway, peace slowly returned. The house was silent again—but this time, filled with love.
For PiPi and PoPo, it didn’t matter where they were, as long as Mom was close.
Because her love was their whole world.
