It was still early when I arrived at the riverside path of Angkor Wat — the kind of morning when the forest is so peaceful you can hear every drop of water sliding over the rocks. Mist drifted slowly above the river, wrapping the ancient trees like a blanket. I often walk there to observe the monkeys, but that day… felt different from the moment I arrived.
That’s when I saw Jonna.
A small baby monkey — no more than a few months old — carefully walking along the riverside stones. His steps were slow but determined, like a human child trying to balance after taking his first steps. Everyone in the forest knows him. He is famous for being smart, brave, and curious. He studies everything — leaves, water, even footprints on the ground. The forest seems to be his classroom.
But this morning…
There was no playful energy in his walk.
No sparkle in his eyes.
There was only worry.
The Moment Hunger Took Over
I watched silently from a distance. Jonna paused near the edge of the river. He looked around, almost calling with his eyes. His mother was nowhere to be seen. Maybe she went searching for food. Maybe she simply got too far from him. But to a baby… even five minutes alone can feel like forever.
Suddenly, Jonna lowered himself onto the wet stones. His breathing changed. His tiny hands squeezed the mud. His head tilted back…
And then—
the cry began.
It wasn’t a normal cry. It was loud, trembling, and full of desperation. His body shook as he wailed and kicked the ground. It wasn’t just sadness — it was hunger. Real hunger. The kind that hurts. The kind children cannot hide.
He was not spoiled.
He was not being difficult.
He was hungry… and scared.
The forest fell silent. Even the birds paused. It felt like the trees themselves were listening.
A Cry for Milk — A Cry for Love
He tried to stand again. He walked a few more steps toward the water. But then he froze. His legs trembled. He tried to hold his tears… but hunger was stronger than his courage.
He threw a tantrum.
His body shook again.
His cry echoed across the river.
I wanted to help so badly. I wanted to pick him up, wrap him in a blanket, give him warm milk like we would give a human child. But this is the wild — and nature does not always give comfort when we want it.
Still… I know what I saw in his eyes.
He was not crying just for food.
He was crying for comfort… safety… love.
And that is something every mother understands. That is something every human feels — no matter where we come from.
A Small Sign of Hope
After several minutes of crying, Jonna finally grew tired. His eyes softened. His cries became smaller, like whispers. He curled into himself, like a tiny seed seeking warmth.
And then… a butterfly landed near him.
It sounds like something from a movie — but I saw it with my own eyes. The butterfly rested beside him as if the forest was trying to tell him:
“You are not alone.”
That moment touched me more than words can describe. Because sometimes… comfort doesn’t come in the form of food or shelter. Sometimes it arrives quietly — as a reminder that life still cares.
Intelligence and Emotion in One Small Heart
Even while hungry, Jonna showed signs of intelligence that amazed me. He didn’t randomly search — he followed the river like he understood it might lead him somewhere safer. He inspected the water, checked the stones for tracks — like a child solving a puzzle without words.
It reminded me that animals — especially monkeys — feel more than we often give them credit for. They know fear. They know comfort. They know loneliness. And when a baby monkey cries for milk… he is not just fighting hunger.
He is fighting the fear of being forgotten.
And deep down, isn’t that something we all understand?
The Walk Back — And A Quiet Prayer
As the sun began to set behind the tall trees, Jonna stopped crying. He rested his head on his arms and closed his eyes. Exhaustion had finally taken over.
I placed a large leaf beside him — not because it would feed him… but because I wanted him to know someone cared. I whispered softly:
“Stay strong, little one. Your mother will return. You are loved.”
And in that moment, I truly believed it.
Because in the heart of Angkor Wat — even when sadness fills the air —
hope still lives in every corner of the forest.
