Little Abun sat quietly in the corner, his tiny orphaned body shaking each time a wave of pain swept across his face. His left eye, swollen and red, throbbed with every blink. He tried to keep it open, but the sharp sting forced him to squeeze it shut again. Even breathing seemed to hurt him.
Abun wasn’t a loud baby. He didn’t scream or throw tantrums like other little monkeys. Instead, he whimpered softly—tiny sounds filled with deep discomfort. His head tilted to one side as he pressed his small fingers against his hurting eye, hoping the touch would ease the pain, but it only made it worse. He quickly pulled his hand back, shivering from the sting.
Being an orphan made everything harder. There was no mother to tuck him close, no warm chest to hide in, no soft hands to clean his wounds. Abun didn’t understand why his eye hurt so much… he only knew he was alone, frightened, and desperate for comfort.
When his caregiver saw him, their heart shattered. Abun looked up with that painful, watery eye, silently begging for help. The caregiver gently lifted him, holding his trembling body close, whispering soothing words to calm him. Abun clung tightly, burying his face into the warm chest—finally feeling a moment of safety.
They slowly examined his eye, careful not to cause more pain. Abun winced, letting out a tiny cry, but he didn’t pull away. He trusted the gentle hands trying to save him.
A warm cloth was pressed lightly around his swollen eyelid, cleaning away the crusts. Medicine was prepared, and though Abun trembled in fear, he stayed still, knowing help had finally arrived. With each touch, his breathing softened, the hurt settling into something a little more bearable.
For the first time that day, Abun closed both eyes—not from pain, but from relief.
He wasn’t alone anymore.
He wasn’t suffering in silence.
He was finally in caring hands… and hope began to return to his tiny, hurting heart.
