In the quiet shade of the forest canopy, a miracle had just happened—a fragile newborn baby monkey was born high in the trees. His tiny cries filled the morning air as his exhausted old mother held him close, still recovering from the strain of birth.
But then—tragedy struck.
The branch beneath them wobbled. The mother, weak and trembling, struggled to hold on to both the tree and her slippery, newborn baby. Her instincts were sharp, but her strength was fading fast.
And in a blink—the baby slipped.
He tumbled helplessly from the high tree, too new to scream, too small to fight the fall.
Thud.
The baby hit the soft forest floor, curled and still.
Nearby monkeys shrieked. One female darted forward, alerting others. The old mother slowly began climbing down, crying out in panic, calling to her baby.
A human caretaker, who had been watching from a distance, ran to the scene. With careful hands, he lifted the tiny newborn, limp but breathing. The baby’s eyes were shut tight. His body was fragile, reddish, and bruised.
For a moment, everyone held their breath.
Then, a tiny twitch.
Then—a faint cry.
The newborn was alive.
The mother reached the ground just in time to see him stir. She grabbed him, hugging him close with tears in her eyes. It was a terrifying welcome to the world—but it ended in love.
