In the warm courtyard of the little village home, the family of monkeys played happily as the sun poured golden light over the banana trees. The baby monkey, still very young and delicate, clung tightly to its mother’s chest, occasionally peeking out with wide, curious eyes. The air was filled with chatter, rustling leaves, and the squeaks of little ones running about.
Among them was Bibi, an older sister monkey, full of energy and mischief. Bibi was known for her lively personality—sometimes she was sweet and protective, other times she was jealous or too playful. She loved her family dearly, but she sometimes struggled to share attention, especially when the baby was around.
That morning, the baby monkey had been the center of everyone’s focus. The mother cradled it tenderly, the father kept watch from a tree branch, and even the other siblings gathered around to coo and giggle at the baby’s tiny expressions. Bibi watched all this from the corner of the yard, a pout forming on her lips.
“Why does everyone always look at the baby?” she thought, her tail twitching. “I can jump higher, run faster, and climb trees better. But they only say how cute the baby is.”
Her little heart bubbled with jealousy, though she didn’t fully understand it. She just wanted to be noticed too.
The Accident
Later in the day, the mother laid the baby down on a soft mat of leaves so it could stretch and wiggle. The baby squealed happily, kicking its tiny feet. Bibi, who had been swinging from a low branch, saw this moment as an opportunity. She hurried over, curiosity pushing her closer.
She crouched down and peered at her sibling. The baby’s round eyes blinked up at her, and it reached out a tiny hand as if inviting her to play. For a brief moment, Bibi felt proud—here was the baby choosing her.
But then, as babies do, it made a little gurgling noise and stuck its hand in its mouth. Bibi frowned. She thought the baby was mocking her somehow, laughing without words.
Wanting to show she was still the strong one, Bibi tapped at the baby’s mouth with her hand—not too hard, but firm enough to startle. The baby squeaked in shock, its little lips quivering as tears welled up in its eyes.
The cry rang out across the courtyard.
Mother rushed over instantly, scooping the baby into her arms. She soothed it, rocking back and forth, checking its mouth to make sure nothing was hurt. Father climbed down from the tree with concern, while the other siblings watched in silence.
And there stood Bibi, frozen, her hand still half-raised. She hadn’t meant to truly hurt the baby. She just wanted attention. But now all eyes were on her—for the wrong reason.
The Lesson
The mother monkey looked at Bibi sternly but not unkindly. She could see the jealousy in her daughter’s eyes, and she understood. After all, when a new baby comes, older siblings often feel left behind.
Gently, she placed the baby back in a safe spot and pulled Bibi close. The mother’s warm hands stroked Bibi’s fur, but her voice was calm and serious.
“Bibi,” she said softly, “the baby is small and fragile. You are older, stronger. You must protect, not hurt.”
Bibi lowered her head, ashamed. “I… I just wanted you to look at me,” she admitted in a small voice.
The father joined them, placing a firm hand on Bibi’s shoulder. “We always see you,” he said. “You are part of this family, just like the baby. But when you are kind, when you help, that’s when we are proudest.”
The baby, still sniffling, peeked out from mother’s arms and reached again toward Bibi. The gesture melted her heart. Even after being frightened, the baby still wanted to be close to her.
Bibi’s eyes watered. She touched the baby’s hand gently this time, a soft caress instead of a hit. The baby cooed, calming down, and the family relaxed again.
Making Amends
From that day, Bibi tried harder to show love instead of jealousy. It wasn’t easy. Sometimes she still felt a pang when the baby got all the attention, but she remembered her mother’s words.
She found small ways to help: bringing leaves to make bedding softer, picking fruit and handing tiny pieces to her sibling, and watching over the baby while the mother rested. Every time she did something kind, she noticed the smiles on her parents’ faces, and the warmth of being appreciated filled her heart.
One afternoon, while the baby napped, Bibi sat quietly beside it. She traced gentle circles in the dirt with her finger and thought, “Maybe I don’t need to be the center all the time. Maybe being a good sister is better.”
When the baby woke and saw her, it didn’t cry or fuss. It reached out both arms and made a happy squeal, showing that it trusted her. That simple moment made Bibi’s chest swell with pride.
She leaned down and whispered, “I’ll be your best sister. I’ll never hurt you again.”
The Transformation
The family noticed the change. Bibi’s mischief softened into playful care. Of course, she was still energetic and full of life—she was Bibi, after all—but now her energy had purpose. She chased away curious crabs that came too close to the baby’s food, she made silly faces to make it giggle, and sometimes she even gave up her favorite spot in the tree so her mother could sit comfortably with the little one.
Her siblings also praised her. “Bibi, you’re really good with the baby now,” they said, and her cheeks warmed with pride.
The father often smiled as he watched, thinking, “This is what family is: learning, forgiving, growing together.”
And the mother, whenever she saw Bibi tenderly patting the baby instead of hitting, felt relief. She knew her daughter had learned one of the most important lessons—love always shines brighter than jealousy.
The Memory
As time went by, the incident of “Bibi hit the baby’s mouth” became a story the family told—not as a shameful memory, but as a lesson. Whenever one of the younger monkeys felt jealous, the parents would remind them:
“Remember what happened with Bibi? She learned that love is stronger than jealousy.”
Bibi would laugh a little at the memory, but she never forgot the way she felt when the baby cried because of her. That moment stayed in her heart, shaping the sister she became.
And the baby, who grew up surrounded by Bibi’s care, never held the accident against her. To the baby, Bibi was not the sister who once caused tears, but the sister who brought laughter, warmth, and protection every day.
Conclusion
The courtyard, once a place of tension, became full of harmony again. The monkeys lived, played, and thrived together, their bonds stronger than before.
Bibi still sometimes craved attention, but now she knew the best way to shine was through kindness. When she hugged the baby and it squealed in joy, everyone looked at her—not because she demanded it, but because she earned it.
And so, from one small mistake, a greater love grew.
Because in the end, family isn’t about being perfect. It’s about learning, forgiving, and always choosing love.
