Tiny little Tourtour sat quietly outside the house, his arms wrapped tightly around his knees and his head bowed low. His eyes, big and full of sadness, scanned the space in front of him again and again, hoping—just hoping—to catch a glimpse of his beloved mom.
The wind rustled through the trees, and little insects buzzed by, but Tourtour didn’t move. He wasn’t in the mood to play or explore like usual. His heart felt heavy. Mom had stepped away just for a short while, maybe to clean or prepare his bottle, but to Tourtour it felt like she had been gone forever.
He didn’t understand time the way grown-ups did. Every minute apart felt like an hour. His tummy growled softly, but more than milk or food, he craved the warm safety of Mom’s hug.
Neighbors passed by and glanced at the poor little monkey sitting alone, looking so small and lost. A kind lady offered him a banana, but Tourtour shook his head. He didn’t want snacks. He wanted Mom.
Every time he heard footsteps or a distant voice, his ears perked up and his head turned quickly with hope—but then lowered again in disappointment.
Finally, just when his little heart couldn’t hold any more sadness, he heard the familiar gentle sound of Mom calling his name. Tourtour jumped up, eyes wide, and squealed with joy. He ran with his tiny legs wobbling straight into her arms.
Mom scooped him up, hugging him tightly. “Oh, my sweet boy,” she whispered, “I was right here.”
Tourtour clung to her, heart full again. Sometimes, even the smallest moments of waiting feel like forever—but in Mom’s arms, all the sadness melted away.
