The day was heavy with heat, and the troop moved slowly, resting in the shade of the tall trees. Among them, Melona, a weary mother monkey, faced a challenge that tested her strength and her heart. Her newborn clung to her tiny body, while her older child, Mino, stayed close, demanding her attention as well.
Melona’s body showed the toll of exhaustion. She moved with difficulty, her energy drained by the demands of two little ones—one still fragile from birth, the other large, restless, and unwilling to give up his mother’s warmth. At moments, her arms pulled between the two, one hugging Mino tightly, the other cradling the newborn who struggled to settle against her chest.
What made the scene even more heartbreaking was the way Melona seemed to falter in her care of the infant. At times, her hold on the newborn was clumsy, pulling the tiny body in awkward, painful ways as she tried to balance both children. Her older child Mino clung fiercely, pressing against her like glue, refusing to let go. The newborn, caught between, sometimes seemed almost bent backward in a “reverse” hold that looked uncomfortable, even painful. The cries of the infant carried through the air, sharp and desperate, reflecting not only physical discomfort but also the longing for a safe, gentle embrace.
Hopelessness lingered in Melona’s tired eyes. She did not appear cruel; rather, she looked overwhelmed, trapped between two conflicting duties. The older child, used to having his mother all to himself, could not understand why he should now share her care. The newborn, helpless and vulnerable, needed constant warmth and milk. And Melona—simply one mother—did not seem able to give enough to both.
For those who watched, the moment stirred deep sympathy. Many wondered why nature could be so harsh, why a mother should be pushed to her limits in this way. Yet this is the reality of life in the wild. Monkey mothers often face enormous challenges, balancing the needs of new infants with the demands of older children, troop hierarchies, and the constant search for food.
Still, the sight of the tiny newborn being pulled in such a rough, hopeless way was difficult to bear. It was as though the baby, so new to the world, was already battling against the odds. Each cry sounded like a plea: for comfort, for protection, for a gentler world.
Mino, meanwhile, only held on tighter, fearing the loss of his mother’s attention. In his young heart, he did not mean to harm his sibling—he only wanted the love he had always known. But his heavy grip and insistent cling made Melona’s task even harder, pulling her arms away from the fragile infant who needed her most.
The scene closed with Melona sitting still, both children pressed against her, the newborn’s cries softening into whimpers. It was a moment of struggle, exhaustion, and pain—but also a portrait of survival. Despite her weakness, Melona kept holding on. However hopeless it seemed, she was still there, still fighting to care for both her children, even when her strength was nearly gone.
