Did you know that when a squirrel finds an orphaned baby squirrel, the first thing she does is feed it and wait?
She watches for a day… then two… then three — hoping the parents will come back.
If no one shows up, she doesn’t walk away.
She adopts the baby as her own.
She feeds it, warms it, teaches it how to survive, and raises it right alongside her litter as if it had always belonged.
Squirrels also have a tender ritual that most people never hear about: when a female greets her partner after he’s been out gathering food, she gently touches his face — as if to wipe the exhaustion off him.
And the male shows love his own way: he brings her the best nuts he can find — walnuts, hazelnuts, almonds — whatever the forest has to offer.
That’s how a squirrel family lives: Mom Squirrel, Dad Squirrel, and their babies — built on quiet care and mutual effort.
But here’s the part that always stops biologists in their tracks:
Roughly half of the seeds squirrels bury for “hard times” are never recovered.
They forget them.
And from those forgotten stashes come new trees — new oaks, new walnuts, new forests.
Thanks to squirrels, ecosystems regenerate.
Forests return.
And with them, life.
Nature has been teaching us this forever — without lectures, without speeches, without slogans.
Just by example: Care for the small.
Share what you can.
And leave behind something that outlives you.