Under the soft shade of the afternoon sun, the little blue-eyed baby monkey sat quietly, her tiny hands resting in her lap. Normally, her eyes sparkled like pieces of the sky — full of life, curiosity, and mischief. But today, they were red and watery, blinking slowly as if each movement hurt.
Her caregivers noticed the change right away. Just days ago, she had been climbing, jumping, and giggling nonstop. Now she could barely keep her eyes open. Every blink seemed heavy, and every soft breeze made her flinch. The sight was heartbreaking — such a tiny creature, once so full of energy, now struggling in silence.
Mom crouched beside her, gently brushing the fur away from her little face. “My poor baby,” she whispered, voice trembling with worry. The baby leaned closer, seeking comfort, pressing her head against Mom’s hand.
A small sigh escaped her lips — almost like a whimper. She wasn’t crying loudly, but her eyes told the whole story: pain, confusion, and longing for relief. Her body stayed still, too weak to play or climb, her tail curling loosely around her legs.
Mom gently cleaned her eyes with warm water, careful not to hurt her. Each touch made the baby twitch a little, but she trusted Mom completely. She blinked slowly afterward, her breathing softening as she began to relax.
Around them, the other monkeys played and chattered, unaware of her pain. But Mom stayed close, refusing to move. She hummed softly, her fingers stroking the baby’s tiny hands — letting her know she wasn’t alone.
As the day passed, the light began to fade. The baby monkey nestled against her mother’s chest, eyelids fluttering as she drifted toward sleep.
Her eyes still hurt, but the warmth of Mom’s love made her feel safe. Maybe tomorrow would be better. Maybe those beautiful blue eyes — once bright with joy — would shine again soon.
For now, she rested quietly, trusting that healing and love would come with the morning.
