In the corner of the rescue yard, two tiny baby monkeys—PoPo and PiPi—sat side by side. Their small stomachs growled, and their little hands clutched the empty feeding bowl in front of them. The sun had just begun to rise, casting soft light on their tired, pleading eyes.
PoPo let out the first loud cry. It was sharp, filled with desperation. PiPi followed, her voice trembling and high-pitched. The two babies, barely old enough to walk steadily, were crying in harmony—calling out for someone, anyone, to come feed them.
These two siblings had already faced more pain than most could imagine. Abandoned and malnourished when found, they had been brought into the rescue just days earlier. They were slowly gaining strength, but hunger was still their biggest battle.
This morning, the caregiver was late. And for hungry bellies like theirs, every second felt like forever.
PiPi climbed onto a wooden stool, peering over the edge of the fence, her mouth open in protest. PoPo stayed behind, stomping his feet and tugging at a torn leaf. Both were too young to understand why the food wasn’t there yet—they only knew the ache in their stomachs.
Then came the sound they had been waiting for—the soft rustle of a food basket.
Their cries turned to excited squeaks. The caregiver appeared, smiling gently, and knelt beside them with a bowl of mashed bananas and warm milk. Instantly, both babies rushed forward, stuffing their little mouths and making joyful sounds as they ate.
In those moments, the pain was gone. Just the comfort of warm food, the feeling of being cared for, and the safety of each other’s company.
PoPo and PiPi would be okay. Because even in sadness, they had each other—and now, they had hope. 🐒💛
