The forest echoed with heartbreaking cries that pierced the silence of the afternoon. A tiny baby monkey clung helplessly to a rough tree branch, shaking from both fear and loneliness. Its eyes were wide, wet with tears that reflected the golden sunlight. The poor baby had been left alone—abandoned high above the ground where no comfort could reach.
Mom had climbed down long ago, her patience broken after a quarrel with others in the troop. In her frustration, she ignored the desperate squeaks from her little one. The baby’s tiny hands tried to reach for her, but she was gone. Minutes turned into hours, and the cries grew louder, angrier, and more sorrowful. Each wail carried the pain of confusion—why had Mom left? What had the baby done wrong?
Leaves trembled as the baby’s body shook with exhaustion. He stomped his small hands on the bark, letting out a tantrum of pure heartbreak. “ANGRY!” his cries seemed to say, “Come back, Mom!” His voice faded into whimpers, echoing through the trees.
Other monkeys watched from a distance but did nothing. The little one’s tears dried slowly on his fur as the wind grew cooler. The once bright eyes dulled with sadness, and his tiny frame curled up on the branch.
When the sun began to set, the baby still waited—hoping that any sound below might be his mother returning. But the forest only whispered softly in the dusk. The anger turned to silence, the tantrum to sorrow. The baby monkey, all alone on the tree, drifted into a trembling sleep, still waiting for love that never came.
