My four-year-old granddaughter, “Zoe”, lives out-of-state. We often meet via Zoom. She and I share a screen and explore her burning questions by searching YouTube videos.

Last Saturday morning, Zoe wanted to know: Do unicorns exist? Are mermaids real?

We discovered that unicorn sightings might have been skinny rhinoceros or possibly rare Italian one-horned deer. We also learned that mermaids likely were manatees basking on boulders and the wishful thinking of sailors who had been at sea too long.

This news didn’t crush the child. A week later, though, when I asked what she wanted to be when older, she said, “A unicorn.” I raised my eyebrows and she responded, “Okay, maybe a mermaid princess.”

I was surprised that the astute child continued to believe in the existence of unicorns and mermaids and despite evidence to the contrary, she also believed them to be viable career choices for herself.

This led me to google: Why do people persist in clinging to convictions that clearly are not true?

What I learned was that folks tend to believe both what they’ve been told and what they have experienced over the long term. In the face of indisputable facts, it’s difficult to let go of long held beliefs. All the adults in Zoe’s life supported her view that these magical creatures are real, living rich and varied lives filled with romance and adventure.

My not-so-scholarly internet search also revealed that emotionally charged lies can be more convincing than facts. They evoke strong feelings which impede critical thinking. Zoe possesses great affection for unicorns and mermaids. For now, she’s likely to ignore the obvious because they bring her happiness.

Lastly, I read about motivated thinking, which is when people forgo rational thought because it benefits them tangibly. Unlike unicorns and mermaids, Zoe has never questioned the existence of the Tooth Fairy. This pragmatic child probably wouldn’t want to endanger her primary source of income. Why mess with success?

My own thinking has been infused with this type of self-preservation motivation. Years ago, I was convinced that I treated my two sons equally. When a friend pointed out that every time my three-year-old pitched a fit, I’d do anything to appease him. I appreciated her input, but knew she was wrong.

Later, at a family event, my father filmed me grabbing a tambourine out of my five-year-old’s hand and giving it to my screaming three-year-old who wanted it. Later, while watching the video, I realized my friend had given me accurate feedback. Until I viewed the video, I couldn’t see what was right before my eyes.

Zoe’s belief in the existence of mermaids and unicorns isn’t hurting anyone. I’m happy she still can picture a rosy future for herself as an employed amphibious princess. However, for adults, the stakes of ignoring the truth are higher. The assumptions we make affect our reality with consequences. When we get our facts wrong, other people get hurt.

Like many children, Zoe is curious, taking nothing for granted. Einstein advised, “Never lose a holy curiosity,” meaning one should approach the world with an open-minded search for truth, which sounds like a good idea to me.

Deborah Prum’s short stories have appeared in many places, including The Virginia Quarterly Review, Across the Margin, The Virginia Writers Centennial Anthology, McQueen’s Quinterly, Literally Stories, Otherwise Engaged Journal, and Streetlight Magazine. Her humorous essays have aired on NPR-member stations. Her creative non-fiction has appeared in The Washington Post, Southern Living, Ladies’ Home Journal, Huffington Post, and BuzzFeed. Her articles on the craft of writing have been published in Brevity, The Writer, The Writer’s Handbook and the Society of Children’s Book Writers and Illustrators Bulletin. Find more of Prum’s work on her website, www.deborahprum.com.