The morning sun rose gently over the trees, painting the forest floor in soft gold. Among the rustling leaves, a tiny baby monkey named Milo clung tightly to his mother, Lina. He was small, with wide, innocent eyes and a curious little face that always seemed to glow with wonder. But today was not a day of joy. Today, something in the air felt heavy — a tension that little Milo couldn’t understand.
Lina had been restless since dawn. Food was scarce, and the other monkeys had been aggressive toward her. She was exhausted, and frustration clouded her gentle heart. Milo, not knowing any of this, only wanted to play. He tugged on her tail, climbed over her shoulders, and squealed happily — trying to make his mother laugh the way she used to.
But instead of smiling, Lina turned sharply. Her patience had worn thin.
“Milo! Stop that!” she snapped, grabbing his small ears and pulling him down to her side.
Milo squealed in surprise, his little hands shaking. “Don’t pull my ears, Mom… please,” his cry seemed to say — not in words, but in the trembling of his body and the tears that filled his eyes.
Lina’s anger faded as quickly as it had come. She saw her baby’s frightened face and froze. The forest around her went silent. The reality of what she’d done hit her like a stone. She released him gently, her hands trembling now, too. Milo backed away, rubbing his sore ears, his lips quivering. He didn’t run — he just looked at her, confused and hurt, wondering why the mother who always protected him had suddenly caused him pain.
For a moment, Lina didn’t move. The weight of guilt pressed deep into her heart. She had let her exhaustion turn into anger — and her precious child had paid the price. Slowly, she reached for him again, this time with trembling gentleness.
“Milo…” she murmured softly, her eyes wet. She stroked his fur, and after a long pause, he crawled back into her arms, still sniffling but no longer afraid.
The bond between a mother and her child is unbreakable, even when tested by hardship. Lina knew she must do better — that her little one didn’t understand hunger or stress. All he knew was love. And in his tiny heart, he still trusted her.
Later that day, as the sun began to set, Lina found a few ripe fruits hidden in the branches. She broke one open and shared it with Milo. He nibbled quietly beside her, leaning against her chest. The air was calm again, filled with the gentle sounds of the forest and the soft rhythm of his breathing.
When night fell, Lina wrapped her arms around her baby and whispered silently her promise — never to let her struggles turn to anger again. And as Milo drifted into sleep, his little hands still gripping her fur, she realized how precious that small, fragile life truly was.
No matter how harsh the world became, she would hold him close — gently, this time — and remember forever the tiny voice that pleaded in innocence:
“Don’t pull my ears, Mom, please.”
