Baby Lizza’s tiny voice trembled as she clung to a low branch, her soft fur still ruffled from the chaos she had just escaped. The forest around her was alive with chatter, yet her world felt small and shaken. Tears shimmered in her wide eyes as she called out again, “Help… help me, Father!” Her cries carried through the warm afternoon air until her father, Leon, appeared from the upper canopy, rushing down with steady, powerful leaps.
Leon found his little daughter crouched near the roots of an old fig tree, her breath uneven, her hands trembling. He knelt beside her, gently touching her shoulder. “Lizza, I’m here. Tell me what happened.”
Through sobs, Lizza explained how two young monkeys from a neighboring troop had been playing too roughly. What began as harmless chasing quickly turned into pushing and grabbing that frightened her. They hadn’t meant to truly hurt her, but the sudden aggression overwhelmed her tiny heart, and she hadn’t known how to defend herself. All she could think to do was run—run fast, run far, and find her father.
Leon listened quietly, his presence warm and steady. He brushed away a tear from her cheek and pulled her close. “You did the right thing coming to me,” he said softly. “Sometimes others forget to be gentle. But you are safe now.”
Slowly, Lizza’s sobs softened as her father wrapped his strong arms around her. Together, they sat beneath the shade, letting the calm of the forest return.
In time, Leon would help her learn how to stand confidently, how to say “stop” when play became too rough, and how to trust her instincts. But for now, all Lizza needed was the comfort of knowing she was protected, loved, and never alone.
