A-Tong, the tiniest baby monkey in the whole nursery, sat curled up on a warm blanket, his little body trembling with quiet sobs. His mom had stepped away for a short while, but to A-Tong, even a minute felt like an eternity. He was so small, so fragile, and so deeply attached that every moment without her felt like his heart was cracking open.
He let out a soft, shaky cry—one of those delicate newborn sounds filled with longing. His tiny hands reached out toward the empty air, his fingers stretching helplessly as if trying to pull his mother back with nothing but hope. His eyes glistened, overflowing with sadness too big for such a tiny creature.
The caregiver scooped him gently, holding him close in hopes of calming him. But A-Tong’s heart wanted only one thing: Mom’s affection. He buried his face into the caregiver’s chest, whimpering softly, trying to pretend it was her. His little tail wrapped tightly around their arm, clinging with desperate need.
Still, he continued to call.
Every few seconds he lifted his head, releasing a tiny cry—so small, yet filled with so much emotion. His voice shook, breaking at the end of each sound. He wasn’t angry. He wasn’t throwing a tantrum. He was simply missing the warmth, scent, and safety of his mother’s love.
Finally, soft footsteps approached.
A-Tong froze, his breath catching. His ears twitched. Then he recognized her—the familiar sound, the familiar shadow. His mom!
He reached out with both arms, letting out a heartbreaking cry of relief. She scooped him up instantly, pressing him to her chest. A-Tong melted into her fur, his sobs fading into tiny hiccups as he wrapped himself around her tightly.
In her arms, his world felt whole again.
All he ever wanted was her love.
