Near the steps of the temple, under a tree, a tiny newborn monkey lay curled on the ground. Her fur was messy, her body full of scratches and bruises. She didn’t move much—only gave a soft, weak cry.
A kind forest ranger passing by saw her and stopped right away. “Oh no… poor little one,” he whispered.
He gently wrapped the baby monkey in a soft cloth and held her close. She was hurt, thin, and far too quiet. Her little body shook.
The ranger brought her to the nearby rescue center in the national park. The staff there worked quickly. They cleaned her wounds, gave her warm milk, and checked her breathing.
“She has many injuries,” the vet said. “But she’s strong. We’ll take good care of her.”
They placed the baby monkey in a cozy box lined with blankets. A heat lamp kept her warm, like a mother’s hug. She couldn’t sit up yet, but she slowly opened her eyes and looked around.
Day by day, the team cleaned her wounds and gave her soft food. One helper always stayed near, speaking softly and gently touching her back.
“She needs rest, love, and time,” the helper said.
The baby monkey didn’t have her mother—but now she had people who cared.
A week later, the red cuts had faded, and her eyes looked brighter. She sat up a little, her tiny fingers wrapping around a branch.
“She’s getting better,” the vet smiled.
The rescue team cheered quietly. The baby monkey was healing.
She had a long way to go, but she was safe now.
