The forest was quiet that morning, except for the occasional rustle of leaves and the distant calls of birds. Deep among the trees, hidden beneath a fallen branch, a small monkey lay injured. Its leg was twisted unnaturally, and patches of blood stained its fur. The monkey whimpered softly, too weak to move, eyes filled with fear.
Not far from the scene, Raj, a kind-hearted man who often walked the forest trails, was out gathering herbs. He paused when he heard the soft cries, unsure at first what it was. Following the sound, he soon discovered the injured monkey lying helplessly among the ferns.
Raj’s heart ached at the sight. He approached slowly, careful not to scare the animal. “It’s okay,” he whispered, kneeling beside the monkey. It tried to crawl away but collapsed in pain. Without hesitation, Raj took off his scarf, gently wrapping the monkey and cradling it in his arms.
He carried the animal back to his small home on the edge of the forest, where he cleaned the wounds, splinted the leg, and fed it bits of fruit and warm water. Days passed, and the monkey slowly began to heal. At first, it watched Raj with caution, but over time, trust began to grow in its eyes.
By the second week, the monkey was able to move around. It followed Raj around the garden, swinging on low branches and playing with fallen leaves. Though he could have kept it, Raj knew the forest was its true home.
One morning, he opened the gate and watched the monkey climb a tree and look back at him one last time. In that moment, no words were needed.
The monkey was free, and Raj stood smiling, knowing he had done something truly good.
