Baby Monkey Falling Down the High Tree — A Real Story of Pain, Hope, and Survival (1969 words)
The forest was quiet that afternoon, the sunlight streaming through the tall green canopy like threads of gold. The air was heavy with the smell of wet leaves and the distant hum of cicadas. In the middle of the forest stood one of the tallest trees — a great fig tree that had been there for hundreds of years. Birds built nests on its branches, squirrels ran across it, and monkeys often climbed it for fruits and safety.
Among the monkeys who called this place home was a young mother named Lina and her baby, Koma. Koma was only a few months old — tiny, soft, and full of life. He clung to his mother’s belly whenever she moved, his little hands gripping her fur tightly as they leapt from branch to branch. Lina was a careful mother; she never let her baby wander too far. But that day, something unexpected happened — something that would change their lives forever.
A Curious Baby’s Adventure
That morning, Lina and Koma climbed to the top of the fig tree to eat ripe fruits. The tree was tall — almost touching the sky — and the view from above was breathtaking. The wind blew softly, making the leaves dance and whisper. Lina sat on a thick branch, eating the sweet figs, while Koma watched butterflies fluttering around.
Koma’s eyes were wide with curiosity. Every movement, every sound fascinated him. He saw a colorful beetle crawling on a nearby branch. Its shell glimmered in the sunlight like a tiny jewel. Mesmerized, Koma slowly released one of his hands from his mother’s fur and reached out to touch it.
Lina didn’t notice. She was busy peeling a fig and feeding her baby small pieces. Koma took the fruit happily but his attention soon returned to the beetle, which had now moved further away. He wanted to follow it.
He made a small chirping sound, as baby monkeys do when they’re excited. The beetle crawled higher, and Koma, forgetting all caution, moved toward it. He stood up, trying to balance himself on the thin branch.
The Tragic Fall
In that moment, a strong gust of wind passed through the treetops. The leaves rustled, the branches swayed, and Koma lost his balance. Lina turned her head quickly — too late.
She saw her baby slipping from the branch, his tiny hands flailing helplessly in the air. Her heart froze.
“Kee-kee-kee!” she screamed, leaping forward, trying to grab him — but he had already fallen.
Koma tumbled through the air, his small body hitting twigs and branches on the way down. The sound of breaking leaves and cracking sticks echoed through the forest. He finally hit the ground with a dull thud.
Lina shrieked and rushed down the tree as fast as she could, her claws scraping the bark. Other monkeys nearby began chattering in alarm, sensing the danger and distress.
When Lina reached the ground, she found her baby lying still among fallen leaves. His small arm was twisted strangely, and a patch of fur near his shoulder was soaked in blood. His chest rose and fell faintly — he was alive, but hurt badly.
A Mother’s Desperate Cry
Lina lifted Koma gently, holding him close against her chest. She could feel his heartbeat — weak and irregular. She started grooming his fur, cleaning the blood, hoping it would stop. She made soft, trembling sounds, her eyes wide and wet with tears.
Other monkeys gathered around, watching quietly. Some older females came closer, sniffing the baby to see if he was still breathing. A few young males kept a distance, their faces showing both curiosity and sadness.
Lina didn’t care about anyone else. She kept holding Koma tightly, rocking him back and forth. His little fingers twitched once, and he made a faint whimper.
The forest, usually full of noise, seemed silent now. Even the birds had stopped singing.
After a while, Koma’s breathing grew shallow. Lina panicked and began to lick his wounds more frantically, cleaning the blood from his arm and face. She tried to lift his head, whispering soft grunts as if begging him to stay awake.
Her instincts told her to move him to a safer place — somewhere soft, away from the hard ground. So she picked him up carefully and carried him to a patch of grass near the roots of the big fig tree.
Night Falls Over the Forest
As the sun began to set, the forest turned golden, then dark. Lina stayed beside her injured baby, refusing to eat or rest. She wrapped her body around him to keep him warm. Occasionally she would nudge him gently, hoping for a response.
But Koma was very weak. His little eyes barely opened, and his breath came in short, painful gasps. Every time he moved, he whimpered softly — a sound that broke Lina’s heart each time.
The other monkeys had already climbed up the trees to sleep. Only Lina stayed on the ground. She didn’t care about the danger of predators. Her only thought was her baby.
As the night deepened, the sounds of the forest changed — crickets chirping, owls hooting, the rustle of small creatures in the dark. But Lina stayed awake, grooming Koma’s fur again and again, as if that act could heal him.
The Morning After
When dawn came, the forest was bathed in soft mist. Dewdrops sparkled on the leaves. Lina was still sitting in the same spot, eyes red and tired. Koma was breathing, but barely. His arm was swollen, and he couldn’t move his legs.
Lina decided to climb the tree again — not high, just enough to find some food. She needed strength, and Koma needed milk. She placed him on a patch of soft moss near the tree’s roots, covering him with fallen leaves to keep him warm. Then she quickly climbed up to pluck a few figs.
But as she returned, she heard a sound — a faint cry. Koma was awake, trying to move. His tiny face twisted in pain. Lina dropped the fruit and ran to him. She held him, pressing him to her chest.
He looked at her weakly, eyes filled with confusion and fear. He didn’t understand why everything hurt so much. Lina made a low comforting sound, kissing his head, trying to calm him.
A Mother’s Fight to Save Her Baby
Days passed like this. Lina stayed near the bottom of the tree, refusing to join the troop that moved deeper into the forest. She built a small resting place made of branches and leaves. Every day, she searched for soft fruits, chewed them, and gently fed Koma.
Koma’s wounds began to scab, but he still couldn’t use one of his arms. When he tried to cling to his mother, his grip was weak. Sometimes he cried out when she moved too fast.
Still, Lina never gave up. She carried him everywhere — when searching for food, when hiding from rain, when crossing small creeks. She kept licking his wounds clean, kept grooming him to comfort his pain.
Other monkeys sometimes came to check on her. Some females brought her fruit; others only watched silently. In the world of wild monkeys, help is rare, but Lina’s pain was clear to everyone.
At night, Lina would curl around Koma like a shield. The cold air didn’t matter, nor the insects biting her skin. She just wanted to protect her baby from everything that could hurt him again.
The Struggle to Heal
After about a week, Koma began to show small signs of recovery. He could sit up with his mother’s help. He tried to touch her face with his good hand, and sometimes even made little playful squeaks.
Lina’s heart filled with hope. She smiled — the kind of silent, gentle smile that only a mother monkey can show. She encouraged him to move more each day. She helped him climb low branches, supported him when he tried to jump.
But his broken arm remained weak. It hung stiffly by his side, and his movements were slow. Sometimes when he tried to reach for food, he would lose balance and cry again. Lina always caught him, pulling him close, licking his tears away.
Her love was endless. She never got angry, never left him behind. Even when she was hungry or tired, she always chose to take care of him first.
Storm and Fear
One evening, a sudden storm hit the forest. The wind howled, and rain poured heavily. Trees bent and swayed. Lina hurried to find shelter with her baby. She hid under a large rock ledge, pressing Koma close to her chest.
The thunder roared above, scaring Koma. He screamed and tried to hide his face in his mother’s fur. Lina covered him with her arms and body, shielding him from the cold rain.
The storm lasted all night. By morning, the ground was covered in mud and fallen leaves. Koma was shivering, weak from the cold. Lina groomed him again, her fur soaked, her body trembling — but she didn’t care. She just wanted him safe.
That day, she didn’t move far. She stayed under the ledge, letting the sun warm them both. She looked into Koma’s eyes, and for a moment, she saw something — a spark of strength, a sign that he was still fighting.
Hope Returns
Weeks passed, and slowly Koma began to heal. His fur grew back where the wound had been, leaving only a faint scar. His arm was still stiff, but he learned to use it again in small ways.
He could now climb a short tree, always with his mother right behind him, ready to catch him if he slipped. Sometimes he even played with leaves and bugs again, just like before — though Lina never let him climb too high.
Her eyes always followed him with a mix of pride and fear. She knew how fragile life could be. Every time Koma jumped from one branch to another, her heart pounded — but she also smiled, seeing her little one grow strong again.
One afternoon, as they sat together on a branch watching the sunset, Lina groomed her son gently. Koma leaned against her, closing his eyes. The warm orange light covered them both like a blanket.
Lina pressed her head against his and let out a soft, content sound. For the first time since that terrible fall, she felt peace.
Epilogue — The Strength of a Mother’s Love
Months later, Koma grew into a young, playful monkey again. Though one of his arms remained a little weak, he learned to live with it. He ran, played, climbed, and even joined other young monkeys in the trees.
Lina watched from a distance, always ready to help but proud to see him moving freely again. The memory of that fall never left her, but it made her stronger — more cautious, more loving.
In the forest, where danger is everywhere and survival is never guaranteed, the bond between mother and baby is sacred. Lina proved that love can fight even against pain and fear.
Every scar on Koma’s body was a reminder — not just of the fall, but of how deeply his mother loved him, how fiercely she fought to keep him alive.
And as the sun set over the forest once more, the two of them sat together high in the branches of the old fig tree — the same tree that once brought tragedy, now a symbol of survival and hope.
Lina looked at her son, her eyes filled with warmth.
Koma reached out with his small, healed hand and touched her face.
The forest whispered softly around them, the leaves swaying as if blessing their bond.
Life had been cruel, but love had endured.
