The sun had barely risen over the misty hills when CUTIS, a kind-hearted young farmer, spotted something unusual by the edge of the rice fields. There, under the shadow of a banyan tree, was a tiny baby monkey, curled up and shivering. Its soft brown fur was damp with dew, and its wide eyes were filled with confusion and fear.
CUTIS looked around, hoping to see the babyâs mother nearby. But the fields were empty. The usual chatter of monkeys swinging in the trees was missing. The silence was heavy.
He gently approached and knelt beside the trembling creature. âWhereâs your mama, little one?â he whispered.
The baby monkey looked up and let out a soft cryâa sound so full of longing and pain that it tightened something deep in CUTISâs chest.
CUTIS picked the monkey up, cradling it close to his chest. âDonât worry, Iâll help you find your family,â he said. And so began their journeyâone that would lead them across forests, rivers, and villages, a journey filled with heartbreak, hope, and unexpected friendship.
CUTIS named the baby monkey “Milo.” From that moment on, they became inseparable. CUTIS fashioned a small cloth sling to carry Milo safely on his back or chest. Wherever CUTIS went, Milo clung to him, sometimes sleeping peacefully, sometimes crying softly for the mother he couldnât find.
Every day, CUTIS asked around. He visited nearby farms and forests, talking to villagers, travelers, and even monks at temples. âHave you seen any monkeys in distress? Any signs of a lost group? A mother searching for her baby?â
Most people shook their heads. Some offered food or water for the monkey. Others simply watched in silence as the young man and the tiny creature walked on, bonded by sorrow.
The journey wasnât easy.
On the third day, heavy rain poured from the sky, soaking them both. CUTIS sheltered under a thick canopy of banana trees, using his jacket to cover Milo. The monkey whimpered, clinging tighter to him.
âShh, shh, Iâm here,â CUTIS whispered, wiping Miloâs little face with the edge of his sleeve. âWeâll keep trying. We wonât give up.â
The road grew harder. Thick mud sucked at CUTISâs boots, and thorny branches scratched his arms. But he never slowed down. With Milo clutching his shirt, CUTIS pushed forward, led by a promise he had made in silenceâto reunite a family, no matter how far it took him.
One evening, in a village near the base of a mountain, an old woman called out to him. âYoung man! That monkey on your backâthere was a troop seen here just last week. A mother was crying out, circling a small area like she was searching for something.â
CUTISâs heart skipped. âWhere did they go? Can you show me?â
She nodded. âThey went up toward the old forest temple. Itâs abandoned now, but animals go there often. Follow the stream; it will take you there.â
Without hesitation, CUTIS bowed deeply. âThank you.â
He followed the stream under moonlight, moving quickly, carefully. Milo stirred on his back, sensing something was changing.
CUTIS stood quietly as the mother looked at him. For a moment, their eyes met, and in that gaze, something passed between themâgratitude, understanding, and respect.
As the monkeys disappeared into the trees, CUTIS felt a tear roll down his cheek. His arms felt empty.
He turned and began to walk back, the road now feeling lonelier than ever.
For days after, he couldnât stop thinking of Milo. He missed the tiny hands gripping his shirt, the soft sounds in the night, the weight on his back. But he knew he had done the right thing.
One morning, while tending to his field, he heard a rustle in the nearby trees. He turnedâand there was Milo, sitting on a branch, watching him.
Behind him stood the mother, waiting patiently.
CUTIS froze, unsure what to do.
Milo climbed down and ran into CUTISâs arms, chittering with excitement. CUTIS hugged him tightly, tears welling up again.
The mother came closer, and CUTIS knelt, letting Milo go. But instead of taking him away, the mother simply sat beside CUTIS, watching him work for a few moments. Then she gently nudged Milo, who climbed onto her back.
Before they left, she reached out, placing a hand on CUTISâs shoulderâa silent thank-you.
Then, just like that, they vanished into the trees.
CUTIS stood there for a long time, the breeze rustling the leaves around him. The journey had changed him. He had started it with a mission to help, but somewhere along the way, his heart had been touched in ways he hadnât expected.
The bond he shared with Milo, though brief, would never be forgotten.
And though the forest now echoed with distance instead of footsteps, CUTIS knew that somewhere out there, a little monkey was safeâbecause someone had chosen to care.
And that made every tear, every mile, every moment⌠worth it.
