📍Location: Deep in the ancient ruins of Angkor Wat, Cambodia.
There are moments in the forest that speak louder than any words. Moments that quietly break your heart, then stitch it back together with threads of awe and admiration. This morning, I witnessed one of those moments—and I can’t stop thinking about it.
It was just past sunrise, and the forest around Angkor Wat was beginning to stir. The air carried that rich scent of earth and jungle. In the shadow of a crumbling stone staircase, I spotted Mama JUTTA, one of the most well-known and beloved monkeys in the area. She’s strong, calm, and wise—many of us locals have come to admire her presence over the years.
But today was different. Today, I saw her not just as a forest elder, but as a mother—teaching, guiding, loving.
Her baby, a tiny fluffball with wide eyes and unsure hands, was attempting something monumental: climbing the ancient temple stairs for the very first time. At first, he just sat there, staring up at the towering steps with a mixture of awe and fear. His little hands trembled, and his body wobbled every time he tried to reach for the first stone.
And Mama JUTTA? She didn’t push. She didn’t pull. She just waited—close enough to catch him if he fell, far enough to let him try. Her patience was something sacred. She nudged him gently, encouraged him with soft chirps, and when he tumbled, she scooped him up—not with frustration, but with warmth. Then she set him down again.
Again and again, he tried. And again and again, she showed him how.
Some moments made me smile—a little leap here, a confident grab there. Other moments made my chest tighten, especially when he slipped, tumbling backward with a squeak. But Mama JUTTA never wavered. Her eyes were locked on him, full of fierce love and quiet faith.
After nearly an hour of effort—of stumbling and failing and trying again—something incredible happened.
He climbed one stair. Then another. Then three.
With a final wobble, he reached the top where Mama JUTTA waited, arms wide open. He collapsed into her, exhausted, and she embraced him like it was the only thing in the world that mattered.
And maybe it was.
I stood there frozen, witnessing this tiny triumph that echoed with something so deeply human it brought tears to my eyes. It wasn’t just a baby monkey learning to climb. It was a lesson in love. In resilience. In the kind of support every parent dreams of giving.
In that moment, amidst the ancient stones and whispering trees, I remembered that strength doesn’t always roar. Sometimes, it waits. Sometimes, it watches. Sometimes, it’s the quiet push behind a trembling step.
Mama JUTTA reminded me that love doesn’t mean carrying someone through every challenge—it means showing them they can climb, even when it’s hard.
