The sun peeked gently over the hilltops, casting warm golden light on the peaceful little farm nestled in the valley. Birds chirped cheerfully, roosters crowed, and the scent of fresh hay and blooming flowers filled the air. But inside the small, cozy animal barn, the usual morning joy was missing. Lala, the sweet little monkey with a soft golden-brown coat and big round eyes, sat quietly in the corner, her favorite banana untouched in front of her.
Farmer Cutis, the kind-hearted man who took care of all the animals, had noticed Lala’s strange behavior. She usually leaped up happily at breakfast time, especially when bananas or ripe mangoes were on the menu. But today, she looked pale, her shoulders drooped, and her eyes stared off toward the straw-filled nest where her best friend, Bibi, lay curled up.
Bibi was a tiny baby monkey with a bright, curious face. She had only come to the farm a few weeks ago, rescued after being separated from her family in the wild. Lala had taken to Bibi immediately, as if she were her own little sister. She helped Bibi climb, cuddled with her at nap time, and made silly faces that made Bibi giggle until she hiccupped.
But yesterday, Bibi began to feel unwell. She didn’t climb or play. She just lay in her straw bed, shivering slightly and blinking slowly. Farmer Cutis had wrapped her in warm blankets, given her medicine, and stayed up through the night to watch her. Lala hadn’t left her side.
Now, morning had arrived, but Lala still refused to eat. Even when Farmer Cutis gently pushed a bowl of mashed mangoes toward her—her absolute favorite treat—Lala just turned her face away.
“Come on, Lala,” Cutis said softly, crouching beside her. “You have to eat, little one. Bibi’s going to need you strong.”
Lala looked up at him with eyes full of worry, then glanced back at Bibi. The tiny monkey was still curled up, her breathing slow but steady. Lala tiptoed over, sat beside her, and gently brushed Bibi’s head with her little hand. She let out a quiet, sad coo.
Cutis sighed and sat beside the two monkeys. “I know how much you love her,” he said. “She’s going to be okay, Lala. She just needs rest, warmth, and time.”
But Lala wouldn’t eat. She stayed there the entire morning, watching over Bibi. Occasionally, she’d softly hum to her, rocking side to side the way a mother might soothe a baby.
The other animals on the farm began to notice something was wrong. Coco the parrot flew down from his perch and squawked, “Lala sad! Lala sad!” The goats stopped munching their grass and peeked into the barn. Even the normally grumpy cat, Whiskers, curled up nearby as if to offer comfort.
In the afternoon, Cutis came in again with another small bowl, this time filled with warm oatmeal and chopped apples. “Just try a little, Lala,” he pleaded. “Bibi would want you to eat.”
But Lala just shook her head, her eyes still locked on her little friend.
Then something small and surprising happened. Bibi stirred. It was the tiniest movement—a twitch of her ear and a soft squeak—but Lala noticed right away. She leaned closer. “Bibi?” she whispered.
Bibi opened her eyes, just a crack, and let out a soft sound that only Lala seemed to understand. Lala squeaked back, a bit louder this time, and gently touched Bibi’s tiny hand.
Farmer Cutis smiled. “That’s a good sign.”
Bibi looked weak, but she was awake. Lala’s heart leapt with hope. She stayed close, now humming even more softly, and curled her tail gently around Bibi’s. Cutis brought a small spoon of water, and Bibi sipped just a bit. That tiny sip was enough to bring a small sparkle to Lala’s eyes.
That evening, the sky turned a rosy pink. The other animals gathered around the barn, curious and hopeful. Farmer Cutis brought dinner again. This time, when he placed a banana and a few berries in front of Lala, she looked at them. Then she looked at Bibi, who was now breathing more comfortably and blinking slowly up at her.
Bibi made a quiet squeak and looked toward the food. Lala tilted her head. It was almost as if Bibi was saying, “You need to eat, too.”
Lala slowly reached out and took a bite of the banana.
Farmer Cutis clapped softly. “That’s it, Lala. Good girl.”
The animals cheered in their own way—Coco flapped his wings and squawked joyfully, the goats bleated happily, and even Whiskers gave a tiny approving meow.
From that moment, Lala began to eat little bits at a time. She still stayed close to Bibi, always keeping one hand or tail near her, but now she understood that staying strong was important—for both of them.
Each day, Bibi improved. She began sitting up, then nibbling tiny pieces of fruit that Lala lovingly offered. Soon, she was strong enough to wrap her tiny arms around Lala in a hug. Lala squealed with joy and leapt in circles, thrilled to have her friend back.
On the fifth morning, Bibi climbed onto Lala’s back, just like she used to, and they both went outside for the first time in a week. The sun felt warm and comforting. The wind was gentle. The birds sang sweetly.
Farmer Cutis watched them play, his heart full of love. “That’s what friendship looks like,” he said. “Caring, patient, and strong.”
From that day on, everyone on the farm knew that Lala and Bibi shared a bond unlike any other. And whenever someone was feeling sick or down, Lala was the first to sit beside them, just like she had for Bibi—quiet, loving, and full of hope.
Because love isn’t just about playtime and fun. It’s also about staying by someone’s side, even when things get tough. And sometimes, just being there is the most powerful thing of all.
