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I was the 5th of the living Kearns children. There would have been 10 of us. There was never a bad Christmas at the Kearns household. Santa arrived every year. There were sleds, bicycles, wind-up toys, trains, football games, hockey games, dolls, and of course, pajamas and socks. We were not a wealthy family, but we were comfortable. Mom was the reason. Her father had died when she was only 14, leaving my grandmother to raise 8 children alone at the tender age of 33. They were very poor, but there was plenty of love. They remained together by means of grandma ironing and taking in boarders. Mom was the eldest. She had to quit school and go to work to help out. In her early 20s, she managed to earn her nursing degree, so it didn't stop her. There was a year when an uncle made them a wooden Christmas tree with a shelf for each child. That was a good year. So it was mom. She would begin shopping in February hiding everything in a fruit cellar in the basement. Eventually, we grew and so did the family. My parents had 20 grandchildren by the Christmas of 1984. We were always expected to go home for Christmas no matter how old we were. It was the only day of the year that she expected that she would see her children at least part of the day. It was important to her. It was understood with us. So we were all there in the Christmas of 1984 when my mother was dying of colon cancer. She was suffering; so thin, slight appetite, vomiting and all that accompanies a slow death. During the evening hours, she asked us all to go into her den and keep our eyes closed. The room was completely dark. When she turned on the lights and told us to open our eyes, the stockings were all laid out on her furniture with our names on them. Since that last Christmas as a complete Kearns family, I have known some wonderful years. I have celebrated Christmas with my children, with my brothers and sisters, and even friends. However, there has never been a moment before or since that has touched my soul as much as the complete and total unselfishness of a woman I was lucky enough to call mom. Flower In December - Pat Upchurch Christmas Fun for Children Email Barbara 
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