Unicorn Memories

Unicorn Memories

By Debbie De Louise

© 2026

It’s almost time for me to meet another child. I have to wait my turn with the other magical beings. As I sit on my cloud shining my horn, I glance through my scrapbook. It’s filled with photos of all the children I’ve befriended over the years. I was just a young unicorn when I started my journey thirty years ago after my training was complete. It seems like yesterday. I still think about my first child, a young girl named Holly. All my children have a place in my heart, but Holly was special. I turn to her page at the beginning of my book. I visited her in a unicorn rocker that her mother gave her for her fourth Christmas. She told her it was from Santa. Holly loved it so much. She rode it every day and talked to me. I remember our conversations. She wanted to grow up to be a veterinarian because she cared deeply for animals of all kinds.

Holly had other unicorns, small and large stuffed ones. She also had a collection of unicorn stories. When she started school, she still took time to ride me and read books to me. But as happens with all youngsters, the magic began to wear off, and she no longer believed or even remembered our time together. I wonder where she is now. It hurts, but I know it’s the natural way of things. Thankfully, there’s a long list of kids, mostly girls but some boys, who believe in unicorns.

My scrapbook is thick with memories, but I often wish I could stay with one child forever. I know the Teddies, Real Kitties, and other magical beings who live in Enchantment Land feel the same way. They say that it’s hard to move on. It breaks their heart over and over again when their child can no longer hear them. Sometimes this happens as early as four or five and, if not, usually by the time the kid enters school. However, there are those, like my Holly, who cling to the magic until they are almost nine or ten. It’s harder that way because their magic friend has grown so attached.

 “Unicorn 57,” Magic Master calls my name. As I approach him, he places the special rainbow-colored ribbon around my horn. It throbs with light. It will transport me to my new child. I hold my breath as I feel my hooves lift off the ground. I fly high above Enchantment Land and through a young girl’s bedroom window. She’s asleep against a unicorn pillow. Lying by her chest is a stuffed unicorn. I know her name is Emily because there’s a name plate on her door. I gaze at the stuffed toy, and the ribbon around my horn begins to pulse again. This time, I feel myself shrinking and then I enter into the unicorn. Emily stirs, and I whisper her name. Her eyes open, blue ones with long lashes. I hope I haven’t frightened her.

“Moonbeam,” she says. I realize that’s the name of her toy.

“Hello, Emily.”

She stares at me, and I send a cluster of magic dust from the toy’s horn. It’ll help her believe. It won’t take much. She’s a young one.

“You talk.”

“Yes, for you.”

“Are you a real unicorn?”

“I am.”

She smiles and hugs me tightly. “I love you, Moonbeam.”

I’m touched.

“Can I read you a story?” She jumps out of bed holding me and walks in her bare feet to her bookshelf. Like my first child, Holly and some of the others, it’s crammed with unicorn books. I notice library labels on a few, but there are more without. Emily has a nice library of her own. She chooses a book from a shelf she can barely reach on tiptoe. A flying unicorn graces the cover.

“You’ll like this one, Moonbeam. It has flaps you can open.” She takes the book back to bed and props me up near her pillow. I love the sound of her voice as she recites the words of the story as she flips the pages. Every so often, she asks me questions. “What do you think is behind this door?” or “Is someone outside this window?”

When I don’t give any guesses, she places the stuffed paw of the unicorn in which I now reside over the pages and opens the flaps to reveal the hidden pictures. I’m impressed. She’s very smart. I wonder if she’s in pre-school. The words are simple, but she reads them well.

“I have a secret,” she says after putting the book away and carrying me back to her bed. “I heard Mom talking to Dad. She has a special gift for me for my birthday tomorrow. I can’t wait.”

“Did you ask her for something in particular?” I’m afraid it’s a toy that will take her interest away from me.

“No, but she knows what I like.”

We spend the rest of the time talking until she falls back to sleep. As a magical being, I don’t require sleep. I’m also able to leave the toy whenever I wish. Since Emily’s sleeping, I decide to look through the house. Maybe I can find the gift that could be my competition.

I transform back to my magical unicorn body and quietly leave the room. As I wander through the dark hall, I spot an open door. I hesitate because I hear voices behind it. There’s nothing to fear because adults can’t see or hear me. I lurk outside and listen to the man and woman speaking. They must be Emily’s parents.

“I don’t think you need to wrap it unless you have a very large gift bag,” the man says.

The voice that replies is slightly familiar, but I can’t place it. “I don’t, Todd, not big enough to cover it. I’ve kept a blanket over it, so she wouldn’t know it was her gift. I’m glad we could restore it. They did a wonderful job. It looks brand new, even though it’s over twenty-years old.”

What are they talking about? I gather it’s Emily’s gift, something big and old. I move further into the doorway. The woman’s back is to me. She’s standing in front of a large object covered in a crocheted blanket.

“I think we should uncover it and move it into the kitchen, so when she wakes up, it’ll be the first thing she sees when she comes to breakfast.”

The man nods. “Good idea, honey, but she might wake up during the night and find it. I always got up early on my birthday and Christmas to see what my parents bought me.”

The woman laughs, and I’m struck again by the familiarity of the sound.

“Maybe it’s best we leave it here tonight. She hasn’t found it yet. When I wake up, I’ll move it into the kitchen.”

I watch as the couple leave the room. The woman switches off the light and closes the door behind her. As she turns around, I only catch a glimpse of her face, and I wrack my magic memory to figure out where I’ve seen her.

After they’ve gone down the hall, I use my magic ribbon to enter the room. I have to see what’s under the blanket, the special gift for Emily.

I use my horn to push the blanket off the object. When it’s uncovered, I gasp. Could it be? All these years, she’s saved it. Emily’s mother is Holly, my very first child. I know what I must do now.

###

The next morning, Emily awakes excited. Moonbeam is silent next to her. “C’mon, Moonbeam,” she urges, “It’s my birthday. I can’t wait to see my gift.”

She carries the toy unicorn as she rushes to find her mother. “Mommy, where are you?”

“I’m in the kitchen, honey. I’ve made your favorite breakfast.”

Emily isn’t hungry. She wants her gift. But as she enters the room, she spots the rocking unicorn. Ignoring the plate of smiley-faced pancakes on the table, she runs to the rocker, jumps atop it, and begins to ride. There’s a wide smile on her face. “I love her. Where did you get her?”

“She was a Christmas gift from my mother when I was your age because she knew how much I loved unicorns. I had her restored. I thought you might like her.”

“I love her,” Emily repeats, holding on to the unicorn’s horn as she continues to rock. It feels good to be with my first child’s child.

Holly glances my way. Although I know she can’t see me, a strange feeling floats through me. Did I imagine that she gave me a wink?