In the quiet countryside, where rice paddies shimmered in the golden sunlight and dragonflies danced over lily ponds, lived a sweet little monkey named Lala. She had lived with Thuy, a gentle young woman with kind eyes and a soothing voice, ever since she was rescued as a baby. Lala adored Thuy. She followed her everywhere — from the morning garden walks to the quiet evenings on the porch, where Thuy would sing soft lullabies as she stroked Lala’s fur.
Lala wasn’t just a pet. She was family.
So, when Lu arrived, everything changed.
Lu was another baby monkey — tiny, clumsy, and with fur as soft as a cloud. He had been found alone near the river by some farmers and brought to Thuy, who never turned away a creature in need. Without hesitation, Thuy bundled Lu in a warm cloth and held him close. She whispered comfort to him and gave him warm milk from a bottle. Lu clung to her finger, and Thuy’s heart melted.
Lala watched all this from a distance, her round eyes full of curiosity — and something else. At first, she didn’t quite understand what she was feeling. Thuy was still kind to her. She still gave her fruit and let her sit on her shoulder during their garden walks. But now, Lu was always there too. Sometimes, Lu took Lala’s spot on Thuy’s lap. Other times, Thuy would forget to give Lala her favorite banana in the morning because she was busy feeding Lu.
The first time it happened, Lala just blinked in confusion.
The second time, she frowned.
By the third day, Lala felt something bubbling inside her chest — something tight and uncomfortable. Jealousy.
She didn’t mean to feel it. Lala wasn’t mean or selfish. She just missed having Thuy all to herself. She missed being the center of her world.
So, Lala began to act out. At first, it was little things. She would knock over Lu’s milk bottle when no one was looking. Or she’d hide the soft blanket Lu loved. When Thuy scolded her gently, Lala would turn her back and sulk, her tail flicking in frustration.
Thuy noticed the change. One afternoon, while holding Lu close, she looked over at Lala, who sat alone on a tree branch, hugging her knees.
“Oh, Lala,” she said softly. “I still love you, my sweet girl.”
But Lala didn’t move.
That night, Lala refused to sleep beside Thuy like she used to. Instead, she curled up in the corner of the room, facing the wall. Thuy sighed and placed Lu gently in his little blanket bed. Then she knelt beside Lala and stroked her back.
“You’re not being replaced,” she whispered. “You’re being asked to share your love.”
Lala didn’t answer, but her heart heard the words.
The next day, Thuy tried something different. She gave Lala a small bottle of milk and showed her how to help feed Lu. At first, Lala refused. But when Lu reached out and clung to her tiny finger the way he did with Thuy, something shifted in her heart. Lu looked up with big, trusting eyes and made a tiny squeaking sound.
Lala blinked. Then, slowly, she offered him the bottle.
Thuy smiled, watching quietly from the side.
From that moment on, things began to change. Lala still had moments of jealousy — like when Thuy carried Lu for too long or when Lu got a new toy — but now, she was also a big sister.
She helped clean Lu’s fur. She brought him little leaves to play with. Sometimes, she even wrapped her arms around him while they napped together in the sun.
And Thuy? She was happier than ever. She still gave Lala her special banana each morning. She still let her sit on her shoulder during garden walks. But now, their little family had grown. And somehow, there was even more love than before.
One afternoon, as the sky turned pink with sunset, Thuy sat on the porch with Lu in one arm and Lala in the other. A breeze rustled the leaves, and birds chirped in the trees. Thuy sang a soft song, her voice floating in the warm air.
Lala looked at Lu, now asleep with his thumb in his mouth, then up at Thuy. She leaned against her chest and sighed — not with sadness or jealousy this time, but with peace.
Because she had learned something important: love isn’t a limited thing. The more you share it, the more it grows.
And that was so lovely.
