The morning light in the Angkor Wat forest always feels gentle, almost protective. The air hangs thick with warmth, and the sound of cicadas blends with rustling leaves overhead. That’s where I saw it happen—a tiny moment that felt much bigger than it should have.
Rosco, a baby macaque no bigger than a housecat, was wrapped tightly against his mother’s chest as she leapt between low branches. Like many babies his age, Rosco is still learning how to hold on. His fingers are small, his grip uncertain. His curiosity, though, is endless.
As his mother shifted her balance, Rosco adjusted too slowly. In one soft, sudden movement, he slipped.
It wasn’t dramatic. It wasn’t loud. It was just a small body dropping a short distance onto the forest floor, landing in a patch of dry leaves. For a split second, he looked stunned—more surprised than hurt.
Before the leaves had even settled, his mother was beside him.
She didn’t panic. She didn’t hesitate. She reached down with calm certainty, pulling him close, checking him in the way only a mother can. Rosco responded the way babies do everywhere—whether in Cambodia or in someone’s living room in Ohio. He clung tighter than before.
Watching them, I couldn’t help but think about how universal that instinct is. In the United States, parents know this moment well—the quick stumble on the playground, the bike tipping sideways, the toddler misjudging a step. The fall matters less than the embrace that follows.
Rosco’s mother carried him a little differently afterward. Her movements were slower, more deliberate. And Rosco? He seemed quieter, his small face pressed against her fur, as if memorizing the feeling of safety.
In the Angkor forest, life continues without pause. Other monkeys foraged. Birds called from above. But for a few minutes, that small clearing felt like the center of something tender and timeless.
It wasn’t about the fall.
It was about the return.
And in that return, Rosco reminded us that sometimes strength isn’t about never slipping—it’s about knowing someone will always be there to lift you back up.
