Little Ronaldo was only a few days old, a tiny baby monkey with soft fur, bright eyes, and a constant hunger that made him squeak every few minutes. All he wanted was his mother’s warm milk and the comfort of being held close. But his mother, Chichi, had become strangely possessive and impatient. Instead of gently feeding him, she often pulled his mouth away whenever he tried to drink.
On this particular morning, Ronaldo crawled toward her belly, his tiny hands trembling with hunger. He opened his mouth to latch on, but just as he began to suckle, Chichi suddenly pushed his face away. Ronaldo stumbled backward, letting out a sharp cry. His little body shook from both hunger and confusion. He didn’t understand why the milk he needed so badly was being denied.
Chichi sat there, grooming herself as if nothing was wrong. When Ronaldo tried again, she pulled him away once more, almost out of irritation. The little baby whimpered, his tiny hands reaching out toward her. He rubbed his face against her arm, begging silently for the one thing he needed most. But each time, Chichi kept pushing him back, too greedy and too distracted to care.
Nearby, other monkeys watched with concern. Mothers with their own babies could sense something was wrong. Ronaldo’s cries grew louder—thin, weak, heartbreaking. He curled into a small ball, exhausted from trying over and over again. Hunger gnawed at him, and his tiny chest rose and fell with rapid breaths.
Finally, one older female monkey approached cautiously. She nudged Chichi aside and picked up Ronaldo gently, guiding him to her own belly. Without hesitation, the baby latched on and drank desperately. His little body relaxed as warm milk filled his stomach.
As Ronaldo suckled peacefully, the forest grew quiet. Though his mother had failed him, the kindness of another ensured he wouldn’t starve. And in that moment, the tiny baby monkey found the comfort and care he had been crying for all along.
