Deep in the outskirts of a shrinking jungle, a tiny baby monkey named Janet sat alone beneath a dying tree. Her fur was matted with dirt, and her small, delicate hands were swollen and scraped — evidence of a recent injury likely caused by a fall or an attack. Her fingers trembled each time she tried to grasp something. For a monkey, hands are life — the tools used to swing, climb, forage, and survive. But for Janet, even holding onto a small fruit had become painful and nearly impossible.
Her troop had moved on days ago, unaware or unable to wait. The injury had left her behind, limping through the underbrush, crying out weakly in the hopes of being found. Every attempt to gather food ended in frustration. Her tiny hands, once quick and agile, could barely curl around a twig, let alone peel a banana or open a nut.
Each passing day grew harder. Hunger gnawed at her belly, and flies circled the open cuts on her palms. She tried to mimic the actions she once saw her mother perform — tapping trees for insects, picking berries, digging at roots — but without strength, the forest offered nothing.
Luckily, a team of wildlife volunteers conducting a rescue mission in the area noticed the faint rustling near the trail. When they found her, Janet didn’t run. She simply looked up with tired eyes, her hands held limply in front of her, as if offering a silent plea.
Now in the care of a rehabilitation center, Janet faces a slow road to healing. But with care, food, and gentle treatment, there is hope. Her hands may be damaged, but her spirit still holds on.
And sometimes, that’s enough to survive.
