Monkey Lyly woke up from her afternoon nap and instantly knew something was wrong. The soft humming that usually came from the kitchen was gone. The scent of ripe bananas mixed with warm tea—nowhere to be found. The house was far too quiet. Her little heart pounded faster as she hopped off her favorite pillow and glanced around the room.
“Mom?” she called, her voice trembling slightly.
No answer.
She dashed to the kitchen—empty. Then to the bathroom—still no sign. She peered under the table, behind the curtains, even opened the closet where her mom always hid surprise treats. Nothing.
Panic began to rise. Lyly scurried outside, calling out louder, “Mom? Where are you?” The trees swayed gently, birds chirped peacefully, unaware of her growing fear. She climbed the tallest branch to look around the yard. No figure in sight. Her little hands shook.
She retraced their usual walking paths, even checking the flower patch where her mom would stop to sing. “She wouldn’t leave me,” Lyly whispered, voice breaking.
Tears welled up in her big eyes.
Just as she was about to give up, she heard a soft humming—faint but familiar. Her ears perked up. Hope surged through her as she ran toward the sound, through the back gate and into the neighbor’s yard.
And there she was—Mom, sitting peacefully with a cup of tea, chatting with the neighbor.
Lyly froze for a second, then darted into her arms. “Where were you?” she sobbed.
Mom hugged her tightly. “Oh sweet Lyly, I just stepped out for a minute. I didn’t want to wake you.”
Lyly buried her face in her mom’s shoulder, heart finally at ease. She clung a little tighter than usual that night, learning just how much her mother’s presence meant. It was a simple day, but one she would never forget.
