The late afternoon sun cast a gentle glow across the quiet yard. The air was still, except for the soft rustle of leaves. In the middle of it all lay a tiny baby monkey, weak and fragile, curled up on a thin blanket. His chest rose and fell slowly, and his little eyes blinked open only for a moment before closing again. He was waiting — waiting for his mommy who hadn’t come back yet.
The baby’s body trembled slightly from exhaustion. His fur looked messy and thin, a sign of his weakness after days of being unwell. He hadn’t eaten much; the bottle of milk beside him was still half full. Each time he woke up, he looked around softly, searching with hopeful eyes for the familiar sight of his mother’s gentle hands.
A soft whimper escaped his lips — faint, broken, almost like a whisper in the wind. He was lonely, but his small heart refused to give up hope. Even though his body felt heavy and weak, the thought of seeing his mommy again gave him tiny strength to keep waiting.
A few ants crawled near his blanket, and a butterfly fluttered close, landing briefly beside him before flying off again. The baby monkey’s eyes followed it weakly, then slowly shut again as he drifted into light sleep. His breathing was shallow, but peaceful, as if he dreamed of being hugged in his mother’s arms.
From a distance, Mom was hurrying back with a towel and a small bottle of warm milk. When she saw him lying there motionless, her heart broke. She rushed forward, gently lifting his fragile body into her arms.
“Mommy’s here,” she whispered softly, wiping the small tears on his face. The baby stirred, weakly wrapping his little fingers around her hand. A faint smile appeared on his lips — a moment of comfort after so much sadness.
As the sun began to set, the mother rocked her baby gently, promising never to leave him alone again. And though he was weak and tired, he knew deep inside that he was safe now — wrapped in love, warmth, and peace.
