Deep inside the peaceful green forest, the morning began with bright sunshine slipping through the leaves. Birds chirped softly, the breeze carried the sweet smell of flowers, and everything felt calm — except for one small corner of the forest, where a tiny monkey named Nino sat with his arms crossed, cheeks puffed out, and eyes narrowed in annoyance.
Nino was sulking.
And the reason?
His mother, Mela, had refused to let him climb the tallest tree in the forest that morning.
It wasn’t because she didn’t want him to have fun — it was because Nino was still small, his arms not yet quite strong enough, his tail not yet steady enough to balance on the highest branches. But try telling that to a little monkey with big dreams. In Nino’s mind, he felt perfectly ready to become the best climber in the whole jungle.
So now he sat on a smooth rock near a banana tree, facing away from his mother, making sure she saw how upset he was.
Mela watched him with gentle eyes. She knew her child well. Nino wasn’t angry — he was just disappointed and trying very hard to look tough.
She approached slowly, her steps soft on the forest floor. “Nino,” she said in her soothing mother’s voice, “come here, my little one.”
Nino didn’t move.
He didn’t look.
He didn’t blink.
He puffed his cheeks even more.
Mela hid a small smile. “You know,” she said, sitting beside him, “sulking doesn’t make trees shorter.”
Still, Nino looked straight ahead, not giving her even one glance.
Mela reached out and touched his back gently. “I said no because I’m protecting you. One day, when you’re stronger, I’ll climb with you to the very top.”
Nino stayed silent. He kicked a little pebble with his toe, but he still didn’t speak.
Mela leaned closer. “Are you ignoring me, my son?”
Nino let out a tiny “hmph” noise. It wasn’t a word — just a sound of stubborn monkey feelings.
The forest animals passing by couldn’t help but notice the scene.
A parrot flying overhead laughed softly. “Little Nino is sulking again?”
A squirrel carrying nuts whispered, “He must really want to climb that tree.”
Even a baby deer peeked from behind a bush and giggled at Nino’s dramatic pose.
But Mela didn’t mind the attention. She knew her child’s heart — strong, curious, eager — and she also knew how to help soften it.
She reached into her fur pouch and pulled out a ripe, sweet banana. The smell floated gently through the air. Nino’s stomach made a tiny growl, but he refused to show it.
Mela placed the banana beside him. “I’ll leave this here. Eat it if you want.”
She moved a little farther away and sat under a tree, pretending to clean her fur while secretly watching Nino.
At first, he didn’t move.
Then he looked to the side.
Then he sniffed.
And finally… he reached out slowly and grabbed the banana.
But he didn’t eat it yet. He turned his back a little more, as if saying, “Fine, I’ll eat it, but I’m still mad.”
Mela laughed softly. She loved her son more than the whole forest. His stubbornness was just part of his growing heart.
After a few minutes, Nino finally took a bite. The moment the sweet banana touched his tongue, he melted a little inside. He didn’t want to, but he did. His tail twitched, his shoulders relaxed, and his cheeks softened.
He kept eating until only a tiny piece remained. Then he looked at his mother for the very first time since his sulking began.
She caught him looking.
He quickly turned away again.
Mela smiled. “Thank you for eating. You must feel better now.”
Nino pressed his lips together to stop a smile from escaping.
Mela stood and walked over to him. This time, Nino didn’t move away.
She sat beside him again. “You know, Nino… one day you will climb every tree in this forest. Even that tall one. But not yet. Not today.”
Nino turned slowly and finally spoke, in his tiny upset voice, “But I can do it.”
“I know you want to,” Mela said softly. “But good things come when the time is right.”
Nino looked down at his feet. “But other monkeys climb it.”
Mela gently lifted his chin. “You have your own journey. And I’m here to help you take every step safely.”
Nino’s eyes filled with small tears — not of sadness, but from the frustration of wanting to be big already.
Mela wrapped her arms around him, pulling him into a warm, soft monkey hug. Nino didn’t resist. He sank into her fur, letting the comforting warmth replace his anger.
“You’re my brave boy,” Mela whispered. “And I’m proud of you for trying.”
Nino sniffled. “Mama… I’m not mad anymore.”
Mela kissed the top of his head. “I know.”
Later that afternoon, Mela decided to show Nino something special.
She brought him to a medium-sized tree — not too tall, not too short. Perfect for his size.
“Come,” she said. “Climb with me.”
Nino’s eyes sparkled. “Really?”
“Really.”
She climbed beside him, showing him where to hold, where to place his feet, when to balance, and when to rest. Nino followed carefully, step by step.
He slipped once, but Mela caught him instantly.
“You see?” she said gently. “I’m always here.”
With her encouragement, Nino reached a high branch, higher than he had ever climbed before. The forest looked different from up there — brighter, bigger, full of possibilities.
Nino smiled proudly. “Mama! I did it!”
Mela nodded with pride in her eyes. “Yes, my little one. You did.”
They sat together on the branch, the wind brushing their fur, the forest glowing beneath them. Nino leaned against his mother, no longer sulking, no longer angry. He felt safe, loved, and understood.
And in that moment, he realized something important:
Mama wasn’t stopping him from doing things — she was helping him grow.
As the sun began to set, Mela carried Nino back to their nest. The sky turned pink and gold, and the forest sang its nighttime song. Nino curled up in his mother’s arms, his earlier frustration forgotten completely.
“Mama?” he whispered sleepily.
“Yes, my love?”
“When I get bigger… will you climb the big tree with me?”
Mela smiled and hugged him closer. “Always.”
Nino closed his eyes, feeling warm and safe.
No more sulking.
Just love.
