God Help the Poorest Life

So small. So fragile. A baby monkey lies curled up, barely moving, his tiny body weak and thin — a life hanging on by the softest thread. His eyes, half-closed and dull, seem to ask the world: “Why am I alone?”

He looks pitiful — not because he is unloved, but because no one has been there to love him. No warmth. No mother’s arms. No milk to feed his hunger. Just the cold ground, silence, and the struggle to breathe through the pain.

His fingers twitch. His chest rises and falls with effort. He doesn’t cry anymore — he’s too tired. But his very presence is a silent plea: “Please, someone see me. Please, someone help.”

And in this heartbreaking moment, all we can say is:
God, please help him.