In a quiet corner of the dense forest, a tiny baby monkey sat alone, its little arms wrapped tightly around its frail body. From the very beginning, life had not been kind to this poor creature. Born weaker than the rest of the troop, it struggled to keep up with the other monkeys. Instead of receiving care and protection, it became the target of constant bullying. The older juveniles would push it away from food, pull its tail, and even bite it when it tried to join in their play.
Its mother, unlike the nurturing mothers most baby monkeys are blessed with, showed little affection. She often ignored its cries, pushing it aside when it tried to nurse. Sometimes, she even joined the others in shoving the baby away, as if she too saw it as an unwanted burden. The little monkey’s eyes, wide and innocent, often filled with silent tears, but no one seemed to notice.
Every day was a struggle for survival. When the troop moved, it lagged behind, terrified of being left alone in the forest. At feeding time, it had to wait until the others were done, scavenging for leftover scraps. Its fur became dusty and unkempt, and its tiny body grew thinner with each passing day. Yet, even in such hardship, the baby monkey clung to the faint hope of finding warmth and acceptance.
Sometimes, it would sit under a tree, watching other babies cuddle in their mothers’ arms. It longed for a gentle touch, a comforting embrace, or even a playful companion. But such moments never came. The forest was full of life, yet for this baby monkey, it felt like a lonely and hostile place.
Though small and frail, there was still a quiet strength within it—a will to survive against all odds. Perhaps one day, a kind soul would notice its suffering and offer the care it so desperately needed. Until then, the little monkey continued to endure, dreaming of a life where it would finally be loved and safe.
