In the quiet shade of a thick jungle, where vines curled around ancient trees and the songs of birds echoed softly, a tiny baby monkey lay curled at the base of a tree, his small body trembling. His name was Lino, and he had been injured.
Earlier that morning, Lino had been playing with the other young monkeys, jumping from branch to branch with excitement and laughter. He was still new to climbing, his hands and feet small and unsteady. As he tried to keep up with the older babies, he leapt toward a branch—but it was too far. He missed it.
With a frightened cry, Lino tumbled through the leaves, hitting smaller branches before falling hard to the forest floor. His tiny body hit a stone hidden in the grass, and he let out a high-pitched scream that echoed through the jungle.
The troop above stopped. Mothers cried out. Young monkeys peered down in alarm. Lino lay still, his right leg twisted at an odd angle, his arms trembling. His breath came in short gasps, and tears leaked from his eyes. He tried to move, but pain shot through his leg, and he whimpered in fear.
His mother, Sana, rushed down from the trees, her heart pounding. When she saw her baby lying there, hurt and afraid, she let out a mournful cry. She scooped him gently into her arms, holding him close against her chest. Lino clung to her weakly, burying his face in her fur, still sobbing.
Other monkeys gathered around, watching with worried eyes. The older females whispered softly and tried to comfort Sana. One brought fresh leaves to wrap the leg. Another stayed close, just to offer quiet support.
Lino didn’t play anymore that day. He lay silently in his mother’s lap, blinking slowly, his face pale with pain. His leg throbbed with every heartbeat. Flies buzzed near his wound, and Sana brushed them away with her hand. She licked his head softly, again and again, whispering little grunts of comfort.
The jungle around them carried on with its rhythm—birds singing, leaves rustling—but for Lino, the world had changed. He was no longer the carefree baby who leapt through the trees. He was hurting, and scared.
But he wasn’t alone. His mother stayed beside him, protecting him, warming him, and slowly, with love and time, his pain would ease. One day, Lino would climb again. But for now, he rested in her arms—safe, loved, and healing.
