The newborn baby monkey lay shivering inside the soft basket, barely strong enough to lift her fragile head. Her tiny body was weak, skin wrinkled, fur thin like mist, but her eyes—oh, her eyes were bright, wide, and full of longing. Every time she blinked, small tears gathered, trembling at the corner like rain waiting to fall. She wasn’t crying loudly, but her silence spoke louder than screams. She kept staring toward the doorway, as if believing her mother would walk in any moment. As if love could appear just by wishing hard enough.
The caregiver sat close, moving slowly so she wouldn’t scare the newborn further. “It’s okay, baby,” she whispered, wiping the tears with a soft cloth. But the little one didn’t understand words. She only understood loss. Her heartbeat raced whenever she heard footsteps, thinking it was mom. Each time it wasn’t, her little face fell again. The pain of separation hung heavy in the room.
Mom used to warm her, groom her, guide her—but now she was gone. And this tiny life was learning the world without her. The caregiver placed warm milk to her lips. At first, she refused, trembling, eyes fixed outward. Then hunger won the battle. She suckled slowly, weak but trying. The caregiver smiled, relieved to see hope spark.
After feeding, she curled in a towel, still watching the door. Her small hand reached out, as if grabbing memories. The caregiver gently held her fingers, replacing absence with comfort. Slowly, the baby monkey relaxed, eyelids heavy but still searching for mom in dreams.
She might never understand why she was left alone—but she had someone now. A new start, new hands to hold her, new love to grow her. And with time, those teary eyes would shine with trust instead of heartbreak.
