In a cozy little home filled with soft blankets and warm sunlight, two inseparable monkeys, Lala and Bibi, lived together like sisters. They played, napped, and ate every meal side by side. Lala was the more curious of the two, always climbing shelves and sneaking extra fruit, while Bibi was calm and gentle, always looking out for her friend.
But today, something was different. Bibi lay curled in a corner of their bed, her eyes half-closed, her breathing shallow. She didn’t get up to greet the morning sun or reach for her favorite snack. She was sick—too weak to move, too tired to respond.
Lala noticed right away. She sat beside Bibi, gently touching her friend’s hand. No playful tug, no cheeky grin. Just silence.
Their caregiver brought breakfast—fresh bananas, mango slices, and warm oats—but Lala didn’t move. The food sat untouched as Lala stayed close to Bibi, watching over her with worried eyes.
“Come on, Lala,” the caregiver said kindly. “You need to eat.”
But Lala turned her face away. How could she eat when Bibi couldn’t even lift her head? Her stomach grumbled, but her heart ached more. She missed Bibi’s chatter, her gentle cuddles, and the way they always shared every bite.
As hours passed, Lala didn’t leave Bibi’s side. She rested her head next to hers, offering comfort in the only way she knew—by being there.
Later that evening, the vet arrived. He examined Bibi carefully and gave her medicine with a soft voice and gentle hands. “She’ll be okay,” he said. “She just needs rest.”
Lala listened, her eyes still full of worry, but maybe—just maybe—a little hope too.
The next morning, Bibi blinked open her eyes and let out a soft sound. She nuzzled close to Lala, and for the first time in two days, Lala smiled.
When the breakfast tray came again, Lala finally took a bite—but only after Bibi did too.
Because love, sometimes, is more powerful than hunger.
