The forest was quiet this morning, except for the trembling cries of little macaque baby MoMo. His tiny body shivered as he clung to a low branch, his tearful eyes searching for comfort. For hours, MoMo had been sobbing nonstop, his thin wails echoing through the leafy canopy. His mother, Malika, sat nearby, watching him with furrowed brows. At first, she tried to soothe him, grooming his soft fur and pulling him close to her chest. But nothing helped; MoMo kept squirming and crying, as if the whole world had abandoned him.
Malika’s patience slowly wore thin. Other troop members began glancing over, disturbed by the relentless noise. MoMo’s cries grew louder, shaking his small frame. Malika finally stood up, her tail flicking sharply. She lifted MoMo with firm hands and gave him a stern shake, her face suddenly hard and serious. The gentle mother had turned strict. She let out a warning bark, a sound MoMo had rarely heard from her. The sudden chastisement startled him into silence, his watery eyes widening in shock.
MoMo whimpered softly, now pressing his face into Malika’s fur, seeking forgiveness. Malika sighed, pulling him back into her arms, holding him close yet firm. She licked the top of his tiny head, her touch gentler now but still steady, showing him that discipline also came from love. The forest seemed to exhale with them, settling into calm once again.
It was pitiful to see such a small soul endure that moment, but Malika knew she had to teach him. She could not let endless crying rule their lives. Today, she hoped, MoMo would learn to be just a little stronger, even while wrapped in the warmth of her love.
