High in the branches of a tall, lonely tree, little baby monkey Carlo clung tightly to the rough bark. His tiny arms were trembling, and his eyes were wet with tears. He had been there since morning, waiting. Hoping. Calling.
But no one came.
Carlo had been abandoned. No mother to return with food. No soft arms to hold him. The jungle was full of sound—chirping birds, rustling leaves—but for Carlo, it was painfully silent. His soft cries echoed down the trunk, falling into the empty forest floor where no one answered.
Every now and then, a leaf would drift past him, as if the wind was trying to comfort him. But it wasn’t enough. His belly rumbled from hunger, and his heart ached from loneliness.
He called out again—one long, broken cry. “Ooo—aaa!” Still, nothing. No footsteps. No shadow. Just the buzzing of distant insects.
A passing monkey family paused nearby, curious. The mother glanced up, saw Carlo, then looked away, holding her own baby closer. They moved on.
Carlo curled up tighter on the branch. His fur was dirty, his face wet. He didn’t want to cry anymore, but the tears kept coming. He didn’t understand why he was alone, why his mommy didn’t come back.
But then, as the sun began to set, a sound broke through the forest—gentle footsteps, soft breathing. A kind human appeared beneath the tree, eyes full of concern. Carlo stopped crying and looked down.
He didn’t know who this person was, but their voice was calm, their hands open. A chance at hope.
Maybe, just maybe, he wouldn’t be alone anymore.
