Little Jasmin, the baby monkey, was usually playful and full of charm. But today was far from ordinary. The morning had started with her tiny tummy growling for milk, and she was already restless. Her mother was busy preparing the warm bottle, but Jasmin didn’t understand patience. For her, every second felt like an eternity.
As the minutes stretched, Jasmin’s mood shifted quickly. She opened her big mouth wide, screaming so loudly that the whole yard seemed to echo with her cries. Her little fists clenched, her feet kicked against the chair, and her face turned into the funniest mix of anger and desperation. She was too young to know that milk was on the way, only old enough to feel the emptiness in her belly.
Her mother, though hurrying as much as she could, couldn’t help but smile softly at her daughter’s dramatic tantrum. Jasmin’s cries grew louder and louder, almost as if she was scolding her mom for being late. It was as though she was saying, “Why do you always make me wait? Don’t you know I’m starving?”
Finally, the warm milk was ready. The moment Jasmin saw the bottle, her anger vanished in an instant. She lunged forward with wide eyes, grabbing onto her mother’s hand tightly as if to make sure it wouldn’t be taken away. As soon as the bottle touched her lips, silence filled the room. Her cries turned into gentle slurps, her big eyes slowly closing as comfort returned to her little body.
Her tantrum might have seemed dramatic, but it was also a reminder of how deeply dependent and vulnerable baby monkeys are. For Jasmin, love wasn’t just in cuddles—it was in those warm moments when her hunger was eased, and she felt safe in her mother’s arms again.
