Tiny baby monkey Moka once danced through the trees like a feather in the wind. But after a sudden accident left him injured, his cheerful energy faded into quiet pain. He now lay still, his fragile body weak, legs barely able to move. The sparkle in his eyes was dimmed, but not gone—because hope still lived in his heart.
Today was special. Mom came with gentle hands, warm medicine, and soft words.
She sat beside Moka on a soft blanket, gently cradling his small body. His legs were thin, sore, and stiff, but Mom knew the touch of love could do wonders. She rubbed a healing balm between her palms and began massaging Moka’s little legs. Slowly. Carefully. Tenderly.
Moka winced at first, but Mom whispered, “You’re going to walk again, my brave boy.”
Each stroke was a promise. Each soft circle of her fingers carried comfort. Moka’s breathing slowed as the pain eased just a little. When the time came for his medicine, he didn’t fuss. He trusted her. The bitter drops were followed by a sweet fruit treat, and Moka gave a tiny smile—his first in days.
Outside, the trees swayed as if cheering him on. The other monkeys peeked in, hoping to see Moka get better soon.
“Step by step,” Mom said. “We’ll get there.”
Though he couldn’t stand yet, Moka lifted his head, his eyes shining with determination. The massages, the medicine, the love—they were helping. Slowly but surely, his body was remembering how to be strong.
One day soon, he would walk again.
One day soon, he’d climb, jump, and play.
But for today, he rested in Mom’s arms—safe, loved, and healing.
