The little monkey, named Kito, did not understand the word “abandon.” He only understood that one moment he was clinging to his mother’s back, and the next, he was alone on the smooth, sun-warmed rock by the lake’s edge. The troop had moved on in a sudden, noisy fright, and in the confusion, he had been left behind.
Now, he did the only thing his instinct told him to do. He sat. He curled his tiny body into a small, still ball and fixed his gaze across the water. He would look at lake, watching the distant shore where the rustling trees might part to reveal her familiar shape. Every ripple, every bird taking flight, made his heart jump with a hope that quickly faded. He was waiting. He was waiting for his mom to come back, to swoop down from a tree, to scoop him up and scold him gently for lagging behind.
Hours passed. The sun shifted, and the shadows grew long. His empty stomach growled, but he did not move to forage. He was paralyzed by hope and protocol. A good baby stays where he is left; his mother will return. He sat and continued to look at lake, his eyes wide and unblinking, his ears straining for her specific call. Other animals came to drink—deer, birds—but none were her. As dusk painted the water orange, a deep, cold loneliness began to seep in, colder than the evening air. His vigilant waiting started to feel hollow.
Just as the first stars appeared and his hope was about to shatter into despair, a different sound caught his ear. Not his mother’s call, but the soft, careful footsteps of a human. A ranger, on her evening patrol, saw the small, solitary silhouette on the rock. She approached slowly, her heart breaking for the infant who was so clearly waiting for his mom.
“She’s not coming, little one,” she whispered with infinite gentleness. “But I am.”
She offered a piece of soft mango. Hunger finally overcame his fixed vigil. As he took the food, she gently lifted him. He did not struggle. Exhausted from his long wait, he nestled into the warmth of her jacket. He was carried away from the lake, his watch finally over. He had waited for his mom, but in her absence, he found a new kind of safety, ending his lonely vigil with the beginning of a second chance.
