Baby monkey Ronaldo had just woken from his afternoon nap, still warm and sleepy from resting. His tiny belly felt empty, and he knew exactly what he wanted—his precious milk bottle. When he didn’t see Mom holding it, panic filled his little heart.
Mom had stepped away to prepare the milk in the kitchen, but Ronaldo didn’t understand. To him, she was walking away and leaving him hungry. His eyes grew watery, and with a determined little wobble, he pushed himself up on his shaky legs and began to follow her.
Ronaldo’s walk was slow and unsteady, but his emotion was strong. He cried loudly as he walked, tiny hands reaching toward Mom, as if begging her not to go too far. His voice echoed in the house—soft at first, then louder as his hunger and worry grew.
“Wait! I need you!” his little cries seemed to say.
Mom heard him, but she knew the milk needed to be warm and perfect, so she continued preparing it carefully. Ronaldo didn’t know that. All he knew was that he needed comfort and food right now.
He followed her through the hallway, his small feet tapping against the floor. Every few steps, he stopped to cry again, looking up with pleading eyes. His tail twitched behind him as if helping him balance through his heartbreak.
Finally, Mom turned around and saw her little boy, teary-eyed and walking after her with all his courage. She crouched down instantly and scooped him into her arms. Ronaldo immediately buried his head against her, crying into her shoulder.
A moment later, Mom brought out the warm milk bottle. Ronaldo grabbed it with both hands, drinking greedily, his cries turning into soft satisfied hums.
In that moment, he wasn’t just fed—he was safe, loved, and exactly where he wanted to be.
