The morning sun cast its warm light across the yard as little Tomo climbed onto a huge stone. His tiny legs dangled over the edge, and his big curious eyes scanned the area. At first, he looked playful, as though the stone was his throne. But within moments, his patience ran out, and his baby instincts took over.
He was hungry.
Tomo’s small mouth opened wide, and his shouts rang through the air—loud, desperate cries echoing against the walls. He didn’t care about anything else; all he wanted was mom and his milk. His little body wiggled restlessly on the stone, his arms reaching outward, as though calling for her to hurry.
The stone, though large and sturdy, seemed far too big for such a tiny baby. It made him look even smaller and more fragile, sitting there with tears in his eyes. His cries grew sharper, his voice trembling, a mix of hunger and fear that mom might take too long.
Mom appeared at last, carrying the bottle of milk. The moment Tomo saw her, his cries shifted from panic to relief. His little body leaned forward eagerly, nearly slipping from the stone in his excitement. She hurried closer, gently scooping him up before he could fall.
The second the bottle touched his lips, Tomo’s world changed. His cries silenced, replaced by the soft sucking sounds of a baby finally getting what he needed. He clung tightly to mom’s hand as he drank, comforted not only by the milk but also by her loving presence.
For Tomo, the stone was just a waiting place. What mattered most was knowing that when he shouted, mom would always come.
