The golden morning light filtered softly through the canopy of trees in the little forest sanctuary. The air was fresh, filled with birdsong and the distant giggles of playful monkeys. It was a peaceful day—until something unexpected happened that would leave one little monkey heartbroken.
Lala, the sweet and curious young monkey, sat under her favorite tree that morning. She had a big smile on her face and a colorful storybook resting in her lap. It wasn’t just any book—it was her favorite one. The caretaker had given it to her a few days ago, a beautiful book full of bright pictures of animals, fruits, and flowers. Lala couldn’t read the words, but she loved flipping through the pages, staring at the drawings, and imagining her own stories about them.
“Look, Mom!” she squeaked happily as she turned a page showing a big, fluffy lion. “Rawr! The king of the jungle!”
Mama Monkey smiled warmly. “That’s wonderful, my little one. You love that book, don’t you?”
Lala nodded eagerly. “Yes! I love it so much! I want to take care of it forever!”
She carefully hugged the storybook to her chest, as if it were her most precious treasure. Then she sat down under the shade of the big mango tree and began pretending to “read” to her stuffed toy—a small piece of cloth she treated like her baby doll. “Once upon a time,” she whispered, “there was a happy lion who lived with his monkey friends…”
Everything was perfect—until Bon appeared.
Bon was Lala’s older brother, playful but a little too mischievous at times. He loved teasing Lala, especially when she was too focused on something. That day, he swung down from a branch, landed beside her with a grin, and said, “What are you doing, Lala? Talking to a piece of paper again?”
Lala frowned but kept her cool. “It’s not just paper! It’s my storybook!” she said proudly. “It’s full of pictures and adventures!”
Bon leaned closer, pretending to squint at it. “Hmm, looks boring to me. Where are the bananas? Where are the games?”
“It’s not boring!” Lala insisted, hugging it protectively. “It’s beautiful!”
Bon smirked and reached for it. “Let me see it, then.”
“No!” Lala squeaked, pulling it away. “You’ll ruin it!”
“Come on, I just want to look!” Bon said, pretending to be innocent.
But when Lala didn’t let go, Bon grew impatient. He tugged harder. “Let me see!”
“Stop it, Bon!” Lala cried, clutching her book tightly.
Then, in that single terrible moment, the sound that broke her heart echoed in the air—rrrrrip!
One of the pages tore right down the middle.
Lala froze. Her wide eyes filled with tears as she stared at the torn page fluttering to the ground. It was the picture of the lion—her favorite one. Half of the lion’s face was gone.
Bon blinked, realizing what he had done. “Oh… uh-oh,” he murmured, holding part of the torn page in his hand.
Lala’s little lips trembled. “You… you broke it!” she cried, voice shaking. “You broke my storybook!”
Bon took a step back, guilt creeping over his face. “I didn’t mean to! I just wanted to see—”
But Lala couldn’t hear him anymore. She was too upset. Her tiny chest rose and fell rapidly as tears streamed down her cheeks. She hugged the book to her chest tightly, as if she could hold it together by sheer love. “You’re so mean, Bon!” she shouted between sobs. “You ruined my favorite thing!”
Mama Monkey came rushing over, hearing the commotion. “What’s going on here?” she asked, looking at both of them.
Bon tried to speak first. “I was just playing and—”
Lala interrupted, holding up the torn book. “He tore it, Mom! He tore my storybook!” she cried, her voice full of hurt.
Mama Monkey sighed softly as she saw the damage. The pages were ripped, the edges wrinkled, and Lala’s little heart clearly broken.
“Oh, my dear,” Mama said gently, kneeling beside her. “I know how much you loved this book.”
Lala buried her face in her mom’s arms, still crying. “It was mine, Mom… I was so careful with it.”
Bon looked down, guilt heavy in his eyes. He hadn’t meant to make her cry. Seeing Lala so sad made his own heart ache. “I’m sorry, Lala,” he said softly. “I didn’t mean to tear it. I was just playing.”
But Lala didn’t answer. She turned away, sniffling, clutching her damaged book tightly. For the first time, she didn’t want to play with Bon.
The rest of the day felt quiet. Lala sat alone under the tree, trying to tape the torn pages together using a leaf stem and a sticky sap she found on the tree bark. It wasn’t perfect—the paper still looked wrinkled—but she tried anyway, carefully smoothing it down. She whispered to her book, “Don’t worry, I’ll fix you.”
Watching from a distance, Bon’s chest tightened. He hadn’t seen her this sad before. Usually, Lala was full of laughter and light, always sharing her snacks and hugging everyone. But now she wouldn’t even look at him. He knew he had to make it right.
Later that afternoon, Bon quietly climbed to the caretaker’s hut, where some art supplies were kept for enrichment activities. He found a few sheets of paper, some colored pencils, and glue.
He spent the next hour sitting on a big rock, drawing carefully. His tongue stuck out as he focused on every line, every color. He drew the lion again—the same one from Lala’s storybook—but this time with a big, happy smile and two little monkeys beside him. On the top of the page, he wrote (in his clumsy handwriting): “For Lala – Sorry, from Bon.”
When he was done, he gently folded the paper and carried it back to where Lala sat. She was still holding her storybook, eyes red from crying.
“Lala…” Bon said softly, kneeling beside her. She didn’t answer.
He placed the new drawing in front of her. “I made this for you.”
Lala looked down at the picture. Her eyes widened. It was the lion again—but even happier than before. And there she was, drawn beside him, smiling.
“You drew this?” she asked quietly.
Bon nodded shyly. “Yeah. I’m really sorry, Lala. I didn’t mean to tear your book. I was just being dumb. I know you love it.”
Lala touched the drawing gently. Her little heart softened. She could see that Bon really meant it.
Mama Monkey, watching nearby, smiled softly. “Sometimes saying sorry with love means even more than words,” she said gently.
Lala sniffled and finally smiled a little. “It’s okay, Bon. But don’t touch my book again without asking!” she warned, half-serious, half-smiling.
Bon laughed nervously. “I promise I won’t! Pinky promise!”
Lala giggled and held out her tiny pinky finger. They hooked fingers together, sealing the truce.
Together, they glued Bon’s new drawing into the back of the storybook, making it part of her special collection. Now the book had a new page — one that told a real story about love, forgiveness, and family.
That evening, under the fading light, Lala sat between Mama and Bon, flipping through her mended storybook. The torn pages were taped, the colors a little messy—but to her, it was still the most beautiful thing she owned.
When they reached the last page, the one Bon had made, she smiled and said, “This one’s my favorite now.”
Bon grinned proudly, and Mama Monkey hugged them both. “You two make a beautiful story together,” she said softly.
And from that day on, whenever Lala read her storybook, she always remembered that mistakes could be fixed, hearts could heal, and even tears could lead to something beautiful.
Because that day, Lala was angry and sad when Bon tore her storybook—but it also became the day she learned the meaning of forgiveness, love, and the strength of family. ❤️📖🐒
