The newborn baby monkey lay helpless in the flooded field, his tiny body barely strong enough to lift his head. Muddy water surrounded him, soaking his thin fur as he struggled to breathe. Each small movement caused him to slip deeper, water rushing into his mouth and nose. His weak cries were swallowed by the open field, where no mother came running.
He kicked softly, instinct fighting fear, but his strength faded fast. The water was cold, heavy, and unforgiving. His chest heaved as he choked, coughing desperately, eyes wide with panic. Every second felt like his last. Alone in the field, the newborn had no idea how close he was to losing his fragile life.
By chance, a passerby heard a faint sound mixed with splashing. Following the noise, they spotted the tiny body sinking and rising weakly in the water. Without hesitation, they rushed forward, lifting the baby monkey out of the flooded ground. Water poured from his mouth as his body trembled violently in shock.
The rescuer wrapped him in dry cloth, rubbing his chest gently, encouraging breath to return. The baby coughed again, stronger this time, expelling water from his lungs. Slowly, painfully, his breathing steadied. His cries returned—not of panic now, but of life. Weak, but alive.
Held close against warmth, the newborn calmed. His tiny fingers curled around the cloth as if holding onto survival itself. He had faced drowning alone, without a mother, without protection. Yet kindness reached him in time. That day, the water field almost became his grave—but instead, it became the place where his life was given back. Hope survived with him.
