Harvey the Horse and the Homemade Unicorn Horn
Large text for little eyes.
In the sunny meadow behind a little red barn lived Harvey the Horse—strong, brown, and very good at neighing dramatically.
But Harvey had a secret. He didn’t want to be just a horse. He wanted to be a unicorn.
Every morning, he watched the clouds and whispered, “I bet unicorns live up there, galloping on rainbows and eating sparkly hay.”
His best friend, Lily, a kind-hearted girl with paint on her jeans, laughed.
“Unicorns are just stories, Harvey!”
But Harvey stomped his hoof. “Stories come from somewhere, don’t they?”
Lily smiled. “Okay, Mr. Magical. If you really want to be a unicorn, we’ll make it happen.” Harvey’s eyes went wide. “Really?!”
“Really,” said Lily. “Now hold still. I need glue.”
The Magic Horn Experiment
Lily gathered her craft supplies: cardboard, glitter, tape, and a shiny silver ribbon.
“Step one,” she said, “make the horn.” Harvey peeked over her shoulder. “Make it extra sparkly. Unicorns don’t do boring.”
Lily giggled. “Yes, Your Sparkleness.” When she was done, she gently taped the horn to Harvey’s head.
“There!” she said. “Now you’re officially Harvey the Unicorn!”
Harvey pranced to the water trough and gasped at his reflection.
“I look... magnificent!” he said, flicking his tail proudly.
Just then, the barn cat strolled by. “Nice hat,” she meowed. “It’s not a hat—it’s my magic horn!” said Harvey.
The cat smirked. “Can it make food appear?”
Harvey thought for a moment. “Not yet. But maybe... cupcakes tomorrow!” Lily laughed so hard she almost fell into the hay.
The Unicorn Who Couldn’t Fly
The next day, Harvey decided to test his new unicorn powers.
“Today,” he declared, “I shall fly!” Lily’s eyes widened. “Harvey, I’m not sure cardboard gives you wings.”
“Nonsense!” said Harvey. “Magic comes from believing!”
He trotted to the top of a small hill, took a deep breath, and galloped forward shouting, “UNICORNS, AWAY!”
He leaped—
He soared—
He… landed in a very soft pile of hay.
POOF!
Lily ran over, giggling. “Are you okay?” Harvey sneezed out a piece of straw. “Perfectly fine. I was just testing gravity. It works.”
Then, with a grin, he added, “Maybe unicorns don’t fly, they sparkle walk!”
So he strutted around the barnyard with glitter falling off his horn like fairy dust, neighing proudly. Even the chickens clucked in applause.
Magic You Can’t See
That evening, Lily brushed Harvey’s mane under the sunset.
“You know, Harvey,” she said softly, “you don’t need a horn to be special.” Harvey tilted his head. “But unicorns have magic.”
“So do you,” said Lily. “You make people smile. You make everyone laugh. That’s real magic.”
Harvey blinked. “Even without sparkles?” “Even without sparkles,” Lily said, giving his nose a kiss.
Harvey smiled. “Then maybe I’m the world’s first funnycorn.” Lily laughed. “Deal, Funnycorn.”
And that night, as the stars twinkled above the barn, Harvey dreamed of rainbows, glitter, and friendship—Because the best kind of magic wasn’t in his horn...
It was in his heart.
The End !
