Tiny baby monkey Maxwell sat quietly under the tree, his eyes wide and his belly empty. The cool morning breeze ruffled his soft fur as he watched his mother walk away once again. He reached out with trembling hands, hoping she would turn back and give him the milk he so desperately needed—but she didn’t.
Maxwell’s mother had started rejecting him slowly, turning away when he tried to nurse. At first, it was gentle, but now it was firm. She pushed him aside with her arms, climbing higher into the tree while he sat below, confused and sad. Other baby monkeys nursed happily beside their mothers, but Maxwell was left alone—his cries soft but heartbreaking.
Despite being hungry, Maxwell tried to stay strong. He clung to a small branch, whimpering softly. His little stomach growled as he sniffed around the grass, searching for something to soothe the pain. A kind older female approached him, sniffed his head, but moved on. No one stopped to help.
As the sun rose higher, Maxwell’s energy faded. He lay down, curling up into a ball, his face pressed against his tiny hands. His mother finally came down later, but instead of holding him close, she simply looked at him from a distance. Maxwell stood up hopefully—but once again, she turned her back.
This painful rejection was more than just a struggle for milk—it was a fight for survival. Still, Maxwell’s spirit hadn’t broken. Deep inside, he hoped his mother would remember the bond they once shared and offer him comfort once more. Until then, baby Maxwell would keep waiting… holding on with quiet courage, and dreaming of warm arms and the sweet taste of milk once again.
