The afternoon sun shone softly through the trees, painting the ground with dancing golden patches. Birds chirped gently, and the breeze carried the sweet scent of ripened fruit. Everything looked peaceful — except for one small baby monkey named Cici, who sat alone on the wooden porch, clutching her tiny blanket tightly to her chest.
Her big round eyes shimmered with sadness, scanning the path that led to the garden. Every few seconds, she turned her head, ears twitching, hoping to hear familiar footsteps — the soft, loving steps of her human mom. But the path remained silent.

Cici’s chest began to tighten with a feeling she thought she had forgotten: fear of being left again.
It had been months since Cici was rescued after losing her real mother in the forest. Her new mom — a kind woman named Mai — had given her a safe home filled with warmth, food, and affection. Cici learned to smile again. She played, she cuddled, she laughed. But deep in her tiny heart, the scar of losing her first mother never truly healed.
And today, that scar reopened.
Mai had gone out early to buy fruit and medicine for the monkeys. Normally, she would return within an hour. But the rain last night had damaged the road, and the trip was taking longer. For little Cici, every minute felt like an hour, and every hour felt like a day.
She began to whimper softly, her small voice trembling. “Eee… eee…” It started as a weak sound — half cry, half question — as if she was calling, “Mom? Are you there?”
No one answered.

Nearby, her monkey friends played happily in the yard. Lala and Bin were chasing each other, tumbling on the grass, giggling with joy. They didn’t notice Cici’s growing panic. She watched them with wide, wet eyes, her heart aching. Why could they still play when she felt so broken inside?
After a few minutes, her cries grew louder. She crawled toward the gate, clutching the bars, peering down the road. Her tail wrapped around one pole, her little hands gripping tightly as tears began to fall. “Eeee-eee!” she cried again, voice cracking with desperation.
It was the same sound she had made the day her real mom disappeared — the same trembling cry that echoed through the forest back then. That sound had once made rescuers stop in their tracks. It was a cry that spoke of confusion, longing, and heartbreak all at once.

Inside the house, an older monkey named Cutis noticed Cici’s cries. He was wise and calm, like an older brother to everyone in the troop. Slowly, he climbed down from his perch and came over to her.
He touched her arm gently. “Cici, what’s wrong?”
She sniffled, looking up at him with tear-filled eyes. “Mom… Mom’s gone…”
Cutis smiled softly. “She just went to the market, Cici. She’ll be back soon.”
But Cici shook her head and pressed her face into her blanket. “She said that last time too,” she whispered, her tiny voice shaking. “And my first mom never came back…”
Cutis’s heart broke a little. He sat beside her, wrapping his long arm around her shoulders. “That was a long time ago,” he said softly. “Mai isn’t gone. You know she loves you. Look — she left your favorite milk bottle here.”
But no words could quiet Cici’s fear. The ache of abandonment was deep and old, buried in her heart like a shadow that returned whenever she felt alone.

Minutes passed, and then hours. The sunlight slowly dimmed. Cici refused to eat, refused to play. She curled into a ball in the corner of the porch, crying softly as the world around her faded into the orange glow of evening.
Then — a sound.
The faint hum of a motorbike.
Cici’s ears perked up instantly. Her head snapped toward the gate. Could it be?
The motorbike grew louder. Then she saw it — the familiar basket tied to the back, the red scarf flapping in the wind. And sitting on it — Mai, smiling, waving as she approached the house.
Cici gasped, her tears suddenly changing from sorrow to relief. She leapt to her feet and ran, tail flying behind her. “Eeee! Eeee!” she cried — this time not in sadness, but in pure joy.
When Mai stopped the bike and opened her arms, Cici jumped straight into her chest, clinging tightly. Her small hands gripped Mai’s shirt as if she would never let go again. She buried her face against Mai’s neck, sobbing softly.
Mai felt the trembling in Cici’s body and understood immediately. “Oh, baby…” she whispered, kissing her soft head. “I’m so sorry I took so long. I would never leave you, my sweetheart.”
Cici didn’t answer. She just clung tighter, her heart still racing. But as Mai rocked her gently, humming a soft lullaby, Cici’s breathing began to slow. The fear inside her slowly melted away.
Cutis watched from the porch with a tender smile. He knew Cici’s pain — the kind that takes time to heal. “See?” he whispered. “She always comes back.”
Mai sat down on the steps with Cici in her lap. “Do you want your milk?” she asked softly.
Cici nodded, eyes half-closed. As she drank, her little hand never let go of Mai’s finger. The sun dipped below the horizon, and the world became calm again.
Later that night, as the crickets began to sing, Mai tucked Cici into her small bed. The baby monkey’s eyes were heavy, but before she drifted to sleep, she whispered, “Mom… you won’t leave me, right?”
Mai smiled, brushing a stray hair from her forehead. “Never, Cici. Even when I’m not here, my love is always with you.”
Cici sighed softly and snuggled into her blanket. “Okay…”
Her breathing slowed, and soon she was asleep — peaceful at last, her tiny fingers still curled around the edge of Mai’s sleeve.
Mai watched her for a long time, her heart aching with love. She knew the pain of losing a mother never truly disappears — it just becomes quieter when surrounded by care and consistency. Every day she spent with Cici was a step toward healing that invisible wound.
Outside, the moon rose high above the quiet house. Lala and Bin had stopped playing, Cutis was already dozing in his hammock, and the night air was filled with soft sounds of rest. But inside that little room, something deeper stirred — a fragile heart learning to trust again.
Cici’s dream that night was gentle. In it, she was holding her real mother’s hand — and Mai’s hand too. Both mothers smiled at her, standing side by side, showing her that love never truly leaves. It only changes form.
And when she woke the next morning to the smell of bananas and the sound of Mai’s humming, she smiled sleepily, her fears fading into the warmth of a new day.
Cici might always carry a trace of that old fear, but now she had something stronger: a home filled with love, laughter, and safety. Her story reminded everyone who saw her that even the smallest heart can hold the biggest feelings — and that a single act of love can heal the deepest pain.
Because sometimes, a baby monkey’s cry isn’t just a sound.
It’s a reminder — that love, once lost, can be found again. ❤️🐒