Tiny, skinny little Heidi sat quietly in the corner, barely moving. Her soft fur looked dull, and her tiny frame trembled with weakness. But the saddest part was her left eye—swollen and heavy, nearly closed. She couldn’t see well from it, and each time a shadow moved nearby, she flinched in fear.
Heidi had been through a lot. No one knew exactly how she got injured—perhaps a fall or a scratch from another monkey—but the pain was clear on her little face. Her other eye looked around nervously, searching for comfort, for safety.
Her caregiver noticed immediately that something was wrong. “Oh Heidi,” they whispered gently, crouching beside her with a warm cloth and medicine. As they approached slowly, Heidi didn’t run. She just lowered her head slightly, as if too tired to resist but still afraid of being hurt again.
Very carefully, the caregiver dabbed around her swollen eye, wiping away dried tears and dirt. Heidi winced but didn’t cry. She was brave, even in pain. After a moment, she leaned into the soft touch, as if she finally felt a little bit safe.
They wrapped her in a cozy cloth, gave her a few drops of warm milk, and cradled her in their arms. Slowly, her breathing calmed, and the tension in her little body eased.
Although her injury would take time to heal, what mattered now was that Heidi was no longer alone. She was in safe hands, and each day would bring a little more comfort, a little more strength.
She might be tiny, fragile, and hurt—but she was a fighter. And with love and care, little Heidi had a chance to heal, to grow, and to one day open both eyes wide to the world again
