The soft afternoon sunlight poured gently through the open window, casting golden patches on the wooden floor. In the middle of the quiet house stood a tiny baby monkey, barely strong enough to balance on his shaky little legs. Everyone had gone out — Mom, Dad, and his playful siblings. The house was silent except for the faint rustle of the curtain and the soft chirping from outside.
The baby monkey blinked around, looking for someone to hold him. His round eyes glimmered with both fear and determination. He let out a small squeak — no answer. For a moment, he hesitated, his tail twitching nervously. Then, taking a deep breath, he tried to stand. His tiny hands pressed against the floor, his legs trembled under his light body.
Step by step, he began to move. One foot forward, then the other. His body wobbled, and for a moment, it seemed he might fall — but he caught himself, gripping a corner of the rug for balance. A proud, curious sparkle filled his eyes.
“Eee… eee…” he chirped softly, as if calling for applause that wasn’t there. He looked toward the door, hoping Mom would walk in, scoop him up, and cheer. But only the wind replied.
Still, he didn’t stop. The brave little monkey took another step, his tiny fingers brushing the leg of a chair. His face lit up — he was walking! Alone, without help, without anyone watching. Each wobble made him stronger, each fall taught him balance.
When he finally reached the middle of the room, he paused, breathing fast but smiling in his own monkey way. He looked around again, his eyes full of longing.
Then he sat down softly, curling his tail around himself and whispering a small, tired cry — not of sadness this time, but of accomplishment.
Mom would come home soon. And when she did, she’d find her little one sitting proudly, waiting to show her what he had learned — a brave first step in a world that suddenly felt a little less lonely.
