TRIBUNJATENG.COM - Once upon a time in the heart of a dense, emerald-green jungle, there lived a troop of lively and playful monkeys. 

They had soft, brown fur, long tails that they used for balance. They loved swinging from tree to tree, exploring their magical home. 

Their leader was a wise and friendly monkey named Charlie.

Every morning, as the sun stretched its golden arms over the jungle, Charlie and his merry troop would leap from branch to branch, chattering happily as they explored the lush forest. 

They’d swing on vines, play hide-and-seek among the leaves, and munch on juicy fruits they found along the way.

But when the sky turned into a canvas of stars and the moon rose high above the trees, it was time for the monkeys to settle down for the night. 

Mama Monkey, the eldest and most caring of the troop, would gather them under a grand tree with wide-reaching branches that seemed to cradle them like a soft, leafy blanket.

“Mama, tell us a story about swinging from trees tonight, please!” begged the littlest monkey, named Lily, with a wide grin.