The Foster Father and the Panda

When the baby panda was brought to the conservation center, it was only the size of a pillow, its eyes not yet fully open, breathing weakly like a trembling breeze. The experts shook their heads: “It’s hard for it to survive…” But Corbin – a young newcomer – volunteered to take care of it.

That first night, the panda whimpered as if calling for its mother. In the warm room, Corbin sat holding it close, his hands trembling as he held the special milk bottle. The first drops fell, and the panda hesitated before slowly drinking. Its tiny eyes closed gently, as if placing all its fragile trust in the arms of a stranger. Corbin lowered his head and whispered:
“Don’t worry, from now on you have me.”

As time went by, Corbin’s diary grew thicker with each passing day:

Day 10: “It drank 30 ml of milk and slept soundly. I feel like I won the lottery.”

Day 45: “It’s teething. Bit my hand so hard it hurt, but it’s too adorable.”

Day 90: “It tried crawling, tumbled down but then stood up again. Just like a child.”

Every step of the panda’s growth had Corbin by its side. When it had a fever, Corbin stayed awake for three nights straight to watch over it. When it practiced climbing, he stood nearby, ready to catch it if it fell. The first time the panda grunted and hugged his leg, Corbin laughed through his tears. Everyone at the center began calling him “the panda’s foster father.” He only smiled, but deep down, he knew it was true.

The years passed. The panda grew up strong, its fur soft and snowy white, its dark eyes sparkling. Playful and mischievous, every time it saw Corbin, it would rush to him, hugging tight, rolling on the ground like a child unwilling to let go. He was its friend, its father, and its home.

But one day, the center decided: “It’s time to return it to the wild – where it truly belongs.”

When Corbin heard the news, he froze. He knew it was the best for the panda, but his heart clenched in pain. At the farewell, he knelt down, wrapping his arms around the now-large body that no longer fit in his embrace. The panda buried its head in his shoulder, letting out a low, heavy sound, as if it too knew they were parting.

The cage door opened. The panda stepped out, turned its head, and gazed at him for a long moment. In the vast forest, its eyes shone with attachment before it disappeared into the endless green. Corbin stood still, tears streaming down his face, whispering softly:
“Go, my child… be free.”

The days after were still busy at the center, but for Corbin, nothing could fill the emptiness in his heart. He kept writing in his diary, though the pages became short and heavy:

Day 200 after release: “I wonder if it still remembers me.”

Day 300: “I dreamed it came back, hugging my leg.”

Day 365: “A year has passed…”

One autumn afternoon, as the wind rustled through the bamboo, Corbin was writing notes when he suddenly heard a strange noise outside. He ran out – and froze.

At the gate stood a familiar figure, slowly approaching. The black-and-white fur, the large body, the way it walked, the eyes… unmistakable. The panda stopped, looked at him with shining eyes, and suddenly rushed forward, wrapping its strong arms tightly around its foster father.

“It’s you… it’s really you!” Corbin choked out.

He buried his face in the warm fur, tears streaming down. The panda pressed its head against his shoulder, letting out a low but gentle sound, as if to say:
“I never forgot. I came back.”

From that day on, the panda continued living in the forest, but from time to time, it returned to the center, returned to Corbin. People often saw the moving sight: a giant panda sitting silently, resting its head on the shoulder of a young man – like two lifelong companions.

In the vast wilderness, there remains a bond that can never be broken – the love between a foster father and the panda child he raised with all his heart.