The forest was calm that afternoon, filled with the soft rustle of leaves and the warm glow of sunlight filtering through the branches. A gentle breeze carried the scent of ripe fruit and blooming flowers, making the whole place feel peaceful—at least until a sudden cry broke through the stillness.
It was the tiny baby monkey, Lino.
Curious and energetic as always, Lino had climbed a small tree near the family’s favorite resting spot. He loved to hang from branches, copy his dad, and explore everything he could reach. But being so little, his feet were still unsure. One wrong step was enough.
He slipped.
The fall wasn’t from very high, but it was enough to make him cry loudly, holding onto his side in fear. His soft whimpers echoed through the forest.
His father, Ranu, reacted in an instant. With one swift leap, he rushed to his baby’s side, scooping him gently into his arms. His heart sank when he saw the scared expression on Lino’s face. Even though the baby didn’t seem badly hurt, seeing him frightened made Ranu’s chest tighten painfully.
“Shhh, my little one… Daddy’s here,” Ranu whispered softly, brushing leaves from Lino’s fur.
Lino clung to him tightly, trembling.
Even though there was no serious injury, Ranu knew he couldn’t ignore the fall. In the forest, the elders had taught him that small injuries could turn worse if they weren’t taken care of. And for Ranu, taking care of his only baby was the most important duty of all.
He placed Lino on his lap and inspected him gently. No bleeding, no serious wounds. Just a tender spot on his side and the shock from the fall. Still, it hurt Ranu’s heart deeply. He felt guilty—he should have been closer, should have watched him more carefully.
“It breaks my heart to see you like this,” he murmured, hugging Lino close.
Then he knew what to do.
There was a special herb that forest monkeys had used for generations. A green, soft plant with a minty smell that helped soothe pain and calm swelling. Their family always kept some nearby. Ranu stood slowly, holding Lino securely as he made his way to a shaded area under a large rock where he stored helpful forest herbs.
He took the leaves and crushed them gently between his palms. The comforting aroma filled the air.
Lino watched with big, watery eyes, still sniffling. Ranu gave him a warm smile.
“It’s okay, little one. This will make you feel better.”
He applied the herb paste softly onto Lino’s tender spot. Lino flinched a little at first—it was cool and unfamiliar—but then relaxed when the soothing effect began to work. His tiny fingers clutched his dad’s fur tightly, trusting him completely.
Next, Ranu took a long, smooth leaf and wrapped it carefully around Lino’s side to keep the herb in place. It wasn’t tight, just snug enough to hold everything together. Every movement he made was full of gentleness, as if he were handling the most fragile treasure in the world.
Seeing his baby injured—even just a little—made Ranu emotional. He blinked rapidly as he worked, keeping himself steady. The forest had taught him many things, but nothing prepared him for the ache he felt when his child was hurt.
When he finished, he lifted Lino into his arms again.
“See? All better,” he whispered, giving the baby a soft kiss on the head.
Lino’s trembling had calmed down. He leaned into his father’s chest, letting out a tiny sigh. His big eyes blinked slowly, a sign that he felt safe again. Ranu held him close and rocked him gently, humming a low, calming sound.
The forest animals nearby watched quietly. A mother deer, a pair of birds, even a family of squirrels paused as they saw the tender scene. This forest had seen storms, hunger, and danger, but nothing was as powerful or touching as the love between a parent and their child.
As the sun lowered in the sky, painting the forest warm gold, Ranu carried Lino to their favorite resting branch—low, safe, and comfortable. He stayed beside Lino, never letting go of his hand. He stroked his little arm softly until the baby’s breathing became slow and steady.
Lino soon drifted into a peaceful sleep.
But Ranu didn’t sleep right away. He watched over his child, making sure he was okay. Every rise and fall of Lino’s tiny chest made his heart feel lighter. The guilt slowly faded, replaced with gratitude—gratitude that Lino was safe, gratitude that he could help him, gratitude that the fall had not been serious.
Ranu promised himself that he would teach Lino to climb safely, slowly, and patiently. And he would stay close, always ready to catch him.
Night settled gently around them. The stars shone softly through the branches. The forest was peaceful again, but this time, the peace carried a deeper warmth. A reminder that love—pure, honest love—was stronger than fear or worry.
Lino shifted in his sleep and nuzzled closer to his dad. Ranu wrapped his tail protectively around his baby and finally closed his eyes, resting with a full heart.
And although the day had started with fear, it ended with love—a father’s unshakable devotion and a baby’s trust, wrapped together in the quiet comfort of the forest.
