Every morning, long before the sun fully rose above the trees, Cutis was already awake. While most monkeys were still curled up in sleep, wrapped in warmth and dreams, Cutis listened carefully to the soft sounds of the park—the rustle of leaves, the distant calls of birds, and, most importantly, the tiny cries of newborn monkeys. For Cutis, morning was not just the start of a new day; it was the beginning of his most important routine.
As the sky slowly turned from dark blue to pale gold, Cutis climbed down from his sleeping branch. He moved quietly, knowing that newborns were sensitive to sudden sounds. His first task every morning was observation. He walked slowly through the park, checking each mother and baby. He looked for signs of hunger, cold, or discomfort. A newborn’s whimper, a restless movement, or a tired mother told Cutis exactly where he was needed most.
Cutis had learned through experience that newborn monkeys needed warmth above all else. Dew from the night often left the ground cold and damp. So each morning, Cutis collected fresh banana leaves and soft grass. He arranged them carefully in sheltered spots where the morning breeze could not reach. These natural beds were simple, but they made a world of difference. When mothers placed their babies on the warm leaves, the little ones relaxed instantly.
After preparing the resting areas, Cutis focused on feeding time. Newborn monkeys often struggled in the early days, especially when their mothers were weak or stressed. Cutis never forced himself into the process. Instead, he assisted gently—bringing soft fruits rich in juice, helping mothers settle comfortably, and, when necessary, offering milk he had carefully saved from previous market trips. His movements were slow and respectful, always watching the mother’s reaction before taking another step.
One of the most special parts of Cutis’s morning routine was cleaning and grooming. Newborn monkeys could not groom themselves, and tired mothers sometimes needed help. Cutis used his fingers with incredible care, removing dirt, dried leaves, or tiny insects from the babies’ fur. He paid close attention to their faces, hands, and tails, ensuring they were clean and comfortable. The babies often responded by gripping his fingers or making tiny, content sounds.
As the sun climbed higher, Cutis turned his attention to health and safety. He checked sleeping spots for sharp sticks, ants, or anything that could harm a baby. If he noticed a weak branch or an unsafe area, he guided the mother and baby to a safer place. Other monkeys watched and learned from him, slowly copying his habits. Without realizing it, Cutis was teaching the entire community how to care better for their youngest members.
Despite his serious responsibilities, Cutis always made time for emotional care. He understood that newborns needed more than food and warmth—they needed comfort. Every morning, he sat near the babies and made soft humming sounds, low and steady. The sound was calming, and many babies fell asleep listening to it. Mothers, too, seemed to relax, their shoulders lowering as tension faded away.
There were mornings when things did not go smoothly. A baby might cry endlessly, refusing to feed. A mother might panic, afraid something was wrong. During these moments, Cutis remained calm. He stayed close, offering reassurance through touch and gentle sounds. His calmness often spread to others, turning chaos into quiet understanding.
As days passed, Cutis noticed changes. Babies he had cared for grew stronger, their cries louder and their movements more confident. Mothers smiled more, rested better, and trusted him deeply. Some even waited for Cutis every morning, knowing his routine would bring relief and support.
The elders of the park began waking earlier to observe him. They saw how Cutis balanced intelligence with compassion, how he never placed himself above others, and how his actions strengthened the entire community. In their eyes, Cutis was not just a helper—he was a guardian of the future.
By mid-morning, when the park became lively and playful, Cutis’s routine slowly came to an end. The babies were fed, warm, clean, and safe. Mothers were calmer and stronger. Only then did Cutis allow himself to rest. He climbed back to his branch, watching the newborns one last time before closing his eyes.
But even as he rested, Cutis remained alert. He knew that tomorrow morning, before the sun rose again, his routine would begin once more. Because for Cutis, taking special care of newborn monkeys was not a duty—it was a promise.
A promise to protect life, nurture hope, and ensure that every new beginning in the park was met with kindness, patience, and love.
