Deep in the green heart of the jungle, a tiny baby monkey sat alone on a branch. His soft brown fur shimmered in the afternoon sun, but his eyes were filled with sadness. The wind rustled through the trees, carrying the sounds of other monkeys playing and laughing in the distance. Yet this little one did not join them. He waited, clutching a leaf in his tiny hands, hoping to see his mother again.
She had gone off to find food that morning, but the hours had stretched endlessly. Every crack of a twig made him turn his head, expecting her familiar face. But she never came. A bird flew down and chirped nearby, as if trying to comfort him, but the baby monkey only hugged his tail tighter and whimpered softly.
As night approached, the jungle grew quieter, and the air turned cool. Fireflies began to dance around him, tiny stars floating in the dark. The baby monkey finally curled into a ball, his little heart heavy with fear and loneliness.
But somewhere in the distance, another call echoed—a familiar voice. His ears perked up. He knew that sound. It was his mother’s cry! With sudden energy, he leapt from the branch and rushed toward it, tears still glistening on his cheeks.
And when she appeared from the shadows, he ran into her arms, clinging tightly. The sadness melted away. The jungle, once so lonely, was filled again with love.
