Oh my God… Weakness, the tiny newborn baby monkey, is looking at me with the saddest eyes I have ever seen. His fragile little body lies still on a soft cloth, barely able to move. His fur is thin, damp from tears and the cold air around him. He looks so helpless, so lost—like a soul who doesn’t understand why the world is already so cruel.
His eyes speak louder than any scream. They are large, dark, and filled with pain and confusion. It’s as if he’s asking, Where is my mother? Why am I alone? Those eyes hold a thousand questions that no one can answer. They stare into mine, searching for comfort, for safety, for the warmth of someone who cares.
Weakness was likely born too early or was separated from his mother in a tragic way. His tiny hands tremble when he tries to lift them, but he doesn’t have the strength. His chest rises and falls weakly, and each breath feels like a fight. He hasn’t eaten properly. He hasn’t felt warmth. He hasn’t known love—until now.
Looking into his eyes, I feel my heart breaking. I gently pick him up and hold him close to my chest. He lets out a soft whimper, barely audible, then slowly closes his eyes, trusting me with his life. In this moment, I know I must protect him. His sad gaze was a plea—and I heard it.
From now on, he won’t be alone. Weakness may have started life in pain, but I promise he will know love, care, and kindness. I will fight for him, just as he is fighting to live.
