There once was a “Uni” named “Wendy,”
Whose horn glitzed in gold was so trendy.
She searched for her herd,
Where diversity is spurred—
Found the Fellowship varied aplenty!

Author & UUFP member Julian Padowicz marries his passion for writing with his zeal for sharing the UUFP story of embracing diversity.

Last month, Wendy experienced such joy finding a special way she could help support her church family. As she experiences what it means to be part of a Beloved Community, she hopes that both adults and children will share our story about who we are and what we do, as Unitarian Universalists, and will offer a warm welcome to all to our stable—uh...we mean...Fellowship!

"Kissmas Love is Contagious"

Wendy, the unicorn, had experienced her first of what she understood to be "Kissmas" last year, right here with other members of the Unitarian Universalist congregation. She had had a lovely time exchanging Kissmas cards; seeing evergreen trees covered in multicolored lights, colored glass balls, and shredded tinfoil with presents wrapped in colored paper under the evergreens; singing Kissmas carols; and everyone kissing everyone else.

But now it was the fall of 2020, the year of the COVID-19 epidemic, and nobody was kissing anybody. In fact, everyone was wearing masks over their mouths and noses and touching elbows instead of hugging or even shaking hands. This, she assumed, went on in every UU and non UU church in the whole world.

This gave Wendy a brilliant idea. The members of her congregation would not have to do a kiss-less Kissmas, in spite of the epidemic. Unicorns, Wendy had learned, could neither get nor spread COVID. So, for this Kissmas season, she could become their Official Kissmas Kisser.

Instead of spreading germs, Wendy would be spreading love, the love that UU members had for one another but couldn't communicate because of the epidemic....except for her.

She well understood the serious nature of what she was undertaking. Unitarians Universalists are very committed about their love for one another, and as long as she was doing their kissing for them, particularly during their "Kissmas" season,  she wanted to make sure that she was distributing it fairly, not giving more or less to one than she gave to another.

This, she realized, was a most important responsibility. She decided to make a list and check it, at least twice, without regard for who happened to be naughty or nice, since these were momentary things. And the love that she would be expressing, in these people's names, was of a permanent kind.

She realized also that the only way that she could make sure to get absolutely everybody, equally, was at their homes at bed time, when everyone was in his or her own bed, so there was no chance of missing anyone or giving anyone more than his or her fair share.

So, on December 24, Kissmas Eve, at ten o'clock at night, Wendy began going down her alphabetical list of church members, showing up at their homes, letting herself in with a special magical key, making her way to their bedrooms, and planting a kiss on their cheek while they slept. If they were awake, she would quote Dr. Gordon, assuring them that unicorns could not spread the COVID-19 virus, ask for and receive their permission to be kissed and plant her kiss.

It was in the third house she came to that, feeling her way down a dark hallway, Wendy bumped into something soft in the middle of the hall.

"Co si stalo?! [“What happened?], a man's deep voice demanded, causing Wendy to apologize automatically.

"Kim jesteś? Whom are you?" the annoyed stranger asked, switching to broken English.

"It's just me, Wendy," she replied. "Whom…I mean, who…are you?"

"Whom am I? Whom do you think am I? Santa Claus is whom am I," he continued in speech unfamiliar to Wendy.

"Santa who?" Wendy said, because she had never heard of Santa Claus.

"Santa Claus, the nice man who brings presents to everyone. And now you've probably waked up the whole household."

"Why do you speak such funny English?" Wendy asked.

"Funny English? Do you know how many languages I have to speak?"

"No, I don't. How many languages do you have to speak?"

"I never counted them, but a lot."

"What's the language you were speaking before?"

"Oh that? That was Polish. That's what we speak at the Pole, of course."

"The Pole?"

"The North Pole. It's where I live."

"At the North Pole, you speak Polish?"

"Of course. What language would you want us to speak at the Pole?"

"So what are you doing here?"

"What do you mean, what am I doing here? It's Christmas Eve."

"In English, we pronounce it Kissmas, like kissing. Without the 'r'."

"Kissmas without the 'r'? That's like chicken soup without the chicken. Christmas has always been pronounced with an 'r'."

But before Wendy could respond to this last statement, the hall light turned on. Wendy discovered that she was facing a rather robust man, with a long white beard and a red suit, holding a fully stuffed bag slung over his shoulder.

Beyond this red-suited man stood a member of the UU congregation in a yellow nightshirt and very bare feet—a woman Wendy knew as Joyce. "You two are going to wake up the whole house," she was saying.

"Joyce, I found this large, suspicious man in your hall," Wendy said. "He's got your silver and who knows what else in his bag."

"I do not," the stranger insisted. "My bag is full of Christmas presents for you and your husband and children, and this horned horse..."

"And that's another thing," Wendy said, interrupting him, "he wants to put an 'r' in Kissmas."

"Well, Wendy," Joyce said, "I'm afraid there is an 'r' in Christmas."

"There is?"

"Yes, there is. This nice man is Santa Claus, who has come all the way from the North Pole with a bag full of presents for my family.

"And you, Santa, have to appreciate that Wendy isn't a horse, but a unicorn, and that she's never heard of Christmas before. She thought the word was Kissmas, and we, being UUs, never corrected her. According to my friend, Donna, who just called me, Wendy just left her house. She said Wendy is going around from house to house, kissing people while they sleep because human persons aren't supposed to kiss each other due to COVID-19, but unicorns don't spread the virus.

"So you're really both doing the same thing, but in your own way. You're both distributing love," explained Joyce. "You, Santa, do it in the form of presents, and you, Wendy, do it in kisses. Maybe we Unitarian Universalists would be smart to add another holiday to our calendar. We should call it Kissmas and see to it that every member got kissed."

The man in the red suit set his bag down on the floor. "Oh, I've been wondering about that. You see, there is a present in my bag for somebody named Wendy, and I had no idea who that was."

"And I have a kiss for someone named Santa," Wendy said, making a delivery right then and there.