In a quiet little village nestled near the forest’s edge, lived an elderly man named Mr. Chan and his beloved monkey companion, BiBi. BiBi wasn’t just any monkey—he was rescued as a tiny baby after falling from a tree during a storm. Alone, scared, and weak, he was found by Mr. Chan while gathering herbs in the forest.
That day marked the beginning of an inseparable bond.
Mr. Chan raised BiBi like family. He nursed him back to health with warm rice porridge and sweet banana slices, sang to him during the evenings, and carried him gently in his arms like a child. Years passed, and BiBi grew into a clever, affectionate monkey who followed Mr. Chan everywhere—whether it was tending the garden, going to the market, or simply sitting on the porch watching the sunset.
Every evening, Mr. Chan prepared a simple meal—steamed rice, boiled vegetables, and the occasional piece of sweet potato or egg. He didn’t have much, but he always made sure to share everything equally with BiBi. The monkey would patiently sit beside him, paws folded like a polite guest, waiting for his turn to eat.
Their mealtime was a sacred ritual, filled with soft conversation, gentle smiles, and the kind of peaceful silence that only deep love can bring. BiBi would mimic Mr. Chan’s movements—lifting tiny bits of food to his mouth, sipping water from a little cup, and sometimes wiping his mouth with a leaf, just like his dad.
People from nearby villages often stopped by just to watch them eat together. “They don’t need gold or silver,” one old neighbor said. “They already have the richest treasure—each other.”
What made their bond so special wasn’t the food, but the love in every bite. Mr. Chan never spoke harshly to BiBi, never treated him as a pet. To him, BiBi was his son. And BiBi, in return, was loyal, tender, and incredibly intuitive. If Mr. Chan was sick, BiBi would stay by his side without moving, offering fruits and touching his forehead softly. If Mr. Chan laughed, BiBi would clap with joy.
Even in the simplest things—like peeling a banana or sharing a boiled yam—there was a depth of connection that words couldn’t express.
One chilly morning, a visitor asked Mr. Chan, “Why do you eat the same plain food every day? Don’t you get bored?”
Mr. Chan smiled and patted BiBi on the head. “Food fills the belly,” he said, “but love fills the soul. I have both, so why want more?”
That night, like every night, the two sat under the stars, a dim lantern glowing between them. They ate quietly, their hearts full. BiBi leaned his head on Mr. Chan’s shoulder. The world around them was noisy and changing, but in that moment, all was calm.
Just a man and his monkey, eating simply—but full of love.
