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A unicorn is a very special creature. Like other animals, it feeds on fresh grass and clear water. But a unicorn needs something more. It needs the warmth of happiness all around it - the beam of a smile - it needs to be surrounded by kind thoughts and beauty. Without these it grows weak and dies.
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The unicorn was growing tired. It could feel itself fading ... it badly needed nourishment but here, in an ordinary town park, ugliness surrounded it.
There were scatterings of litter - crisp packets, cigarette ends, empty beer cans, rubbish and dirt of all sorts. A greyness crept into the unicorn’s soul. | |
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Then it flicked its ears - it could hear something - and it was getting nearer and nearer - shouts, sneering laughter and jeering. Then the vandals appeared.
Pssssshhhhh! With their spray cans they covered every surface of the bandstand with cruel words and insults. Then they disappeared back into the dark streets. | |
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Not one of them had seen the unicorn. Very few people can ever see a unicorn. But the unicorn had seen them. It had seen it all and sighed. Each angry word, was like an arrow to the unicorn. Each cruel thought wounded it. Wearily it lay down behind a grimy bush and fell into an exhausted sleep.
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The next morning a crowd of people gathered around the sad looking bandstand. Old people, children, mums and dads and a man from the council all came to peer at the damage and tut tut about the vandals.
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"Dear me! It’s not like the old days," sighed one old man. "I used to play in a band here. Every weekend we played in this bandstand and the people sat around, relaxing, chatting enjoying the music. That’s a little bit of magic we’ll never hear again!"
"What are you going to do about it?" he asked the man from the council.
"I wash my hands of it" the council official replied. "You can fix it up and paint it yourselves if you’re so fond of it."
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