Wendy the Unicorn: “One Good Turn Deserves Another”

Poem by Cory Creations
Illustrated by Joanne Dingus

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.

Julian Padowicz

Last month, Wendy met the jelly bean bearer. Despite a bum hoof, in this chapter, Wendy is lucky to receive Farmer Ted’s help again, which goes far beyond savory treats. As Wendy experiences inclusivity through relationship with the UUFP, she hopes that both adults and children will share our story about who we are and what we do, as Unitarian Universalists, and offer a warm welcome to all to our stable—uh…we mean…Fellowship!

Illustrated by Joanne Dingus

“One Good Turn Deserves Another”

It wasn’t even the tallest object that Wendy regularly jumped over on her way to the meadow. The stone wall at the edge of the pasture was taller. This was just a fallen tree that Wendy could, just as easily, have gone around, but she enjoyed the feeling of jumping over it. Well, this time she had landed wrong, somehow, and felt one of her front ankles twist, as her weight came down on it, and then a terrible pain shot up her leg.

Of course, she stopped as quickly as she could, and found that it didn’t hurt anymore, as long as Wendy didn’t put any weight on it. Then she hobbled back to her barn on three legs, looking forward to lying down in the bed of straw that Farmer Ted always fixed up in her stall on his visits there.

In fact, there was a chance that he was there right now, doing the housekeeping that Wendy couldn’t do for herself, because of her hooves. Wendy had learned, just recently, that Farmer Ted came by every day, when Wendy was out grazing in the meadow, to bring her hay and apples and clean up a little. Up until then, she had thought these things appeared in her barn by themselves.

At first, Wendy had thought that her barn must have been on his property, but Wendy apparently owned it as much as anybody, since its original owners had abandoned it and the cabin beside it some years ago. It stood in the woods, far from any road, and Wendy had lived in it, by herself, since she could remember.

And now, as Wendy made her careful way home, keeping her hurt hoof off the ground, she could see that Farmer Ted must, indeed, have been in the barn, since his truck was parked in front. “Hi Wendy,” he said, coming out of the barn and seeing her hobble home on three legs. “You’ve hurt your leg, haven’t you?”

“I’m afraid so,” said Wendy. “I was jumping over a log and must have landed wrong on my ankle.”

“Well, let me see it,” the man said, sitting down on a tree stump and extending a hand in her direction. Wendy hobbled over and placed her hurt ankle in his hand. “This may hurt a bit,” he said, as he moved her hoof back and forth.

“Ouch,” groaned Wendy, as he bent the ankle back, and it hurt. Then he straightened it, and it didn’t.

“I don’t think it’s broken,” said Farmer Ted. “Just let it rest for a few days, and it should be all right.”

“Thank you, Farmer Ted,” replied Wendy, “but may I ask you something?”

“Why sure, Wendy, what d’you want to know?”

“Well, for starters, why do you come by all the time to bring me hay? You don’t own this place, do you?”

“No, I don’t, Wendy. But my granddad promised your mother that we would try and make you comfortable here.”

“My mother? I only remember somebody singing to me.”

“That must have been your mother. Everyone had a mother at one time. Your mother was tall and beautiful, just like you, Wendy, with that golden horn growing out of her forehead. And she gave birth to you right here in this barn. She and Granddad were friends, and she asked him to keep bringing you hay to eat, if anything happened to her. She knew that she was different from most of us and that something could happen to her, and she wanted Granddad to take care of you and to teach you to speak English, like people.”

“And where is she now? How come I never see her?”

“I don’t know where she is or what happened to her. One day she just didn’t come home, and we’ve been bringing you hay and apples and jellybeans to eat and straw for bedding ever since.”

“So, what do you think happened to her?”

“I don’t know. She was a unicorn, like you, with that golden horn, and some circus could have captured her or somebody shot her for the golden horn. I just don’t know. But you don’t remember her at all, do you?”

“Just somebody singing to me. And you say you taught me to speak English, like a human person.”

“That’s right. Me and my granddad. Unicorns have a larynx, like people do, you know, and they can learn to speak. Horses can’t do that.”

“And you take care of me?”

“I do my best.”

“Like my own father would?”

“I do my best.”

“Is there something I could do for you?”

“I can’t think of anything right now, but if I do think of something, I’ll let you know.”

“That would be great.”

(Check out all the “Wendy the Unicorn” stories featured in the UUFP eFlame Blog under “Sharing Our Stories.”)


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