On a wide, rough branch of a huge old tree near the house, a tiny newborn monkey clung weakly to the bark. His fur was still thin, and the sunlight filtering through the leaves made his little body look even more fragile. The wind gently swayed the branches, but to him, it felt like an endless, lonely place.
He had been resting there since early morning, waiting for his mom to come feed him. His tiny fingers gripped the wood tightly, but his energy was fading. A soft moan escaped his mouth — the sound of hunger and longing. He turned his head slightly, scanning the yard with slow, uncertain movements, but there was no sign of her.
The air was filled with the smell of leaves and the distant sounds of the household, but the newborn only wanted the warm comfort of milk. His cries grew louder, echoing against the tree trunk. Birds nearby hopped from branch to branch, curious but keeping their distance.
Finally, movement appeared from the house. His mom rushed across the yard, her eyes locking on her baby. Without hesitation, she climbed the huge tree with quick, skilled movements. In seconds, she was beside him, pulling him close into her chest.
The moment her warmth surrounded him, the cries softened. When she began feeding him, he drank eagerly, his tiny hands holding onto her fur. The old tree that moments ago felt like a place of loneliness now became a shelter of love, swaying gently as mother and baby found peace together.
