Cameron's Story
Stories
Vision Stories
True Accounts Of Visions, Angels, And Healing Miracles
I met Todd and Dawn at wedding reception in the fall of 1999. They disclosed, very cautiously, that they had lost a child to cancer in 1998. The following day was to be the anniversary of their eight-month-old son's death at a nearby hospital. Todd told me about the anguish of their last 24 hours with Cameron: of chemotherapy, numerous tubes, blood transfusions, and endless tests. The doctors had told them there wasn't much hope. They were in a small sleeping room next to the intensive care unit, trying in vain to sleep. Todd said he was praying for God to be with Cameron, to end his ordeal, to give him peace, when he noticed thoughts coming into his mind that were clearly not his own. "Cameron is going to be with me. He is going to be cared for. I will take Cameron at 5:38."
Todd wondered if he was having a dream, if what he was being told was real or only his imagination. He reached over and roused Dawn, who was dozing, and whispered, "5:38, 5:38, remember 5:38." She asked, "What?" and he told her just to remember that number. Dawn told him later that she had understood exactly what he meant. Then, Todd said, a feeling of calm came over him. The overwhelming stress and anxiety he had been feeling were gone. It was like a burden had been lifted off his chest. The next morning he awoke, rested, at about 9:30 a.m. When he realized that 5:38 had passed, he felt let down again, thinking he must have imagined the whole thing. Todd and Dawn continued the vigil with heavy hearts.
Late in the afternoon, their beloved child, who had been unresponsive for days, opened his eyes, looked at them, and then closed his eyes for the last time. After consulting with the doctors, they made the decision to disconnect Cameron from all of the machines. They held him in their arms as he died, and said their good-byes. Then Todd and Dawn went back into the sleeping room to collect their things. Suddenly they realized that they had been holding Cameron at 5:38 p.m. when he died, just as God had told them. They left the hospital with a feeling of peace, knowing that God had been with them and had blessed them in their hour of need.
Todd wondered if he was having a dream, if what he was being told was real or only his imagination. He reached over and roused Dawn, who was dozing, and whispered, "5:38, 5:38, remember 5:38." She asked, "What?" and he told her just to remember that number. Dawn told him later that she had understood exactly what he meant. Then, Todd said, a feeling of calm came over him. The overwhelming stress and anxiety he had been feeling were gone. It was like a burden had been lifted off his chest. The next morning he awoke, rested, at about 9:30 a.m. When he realized that 5:38 had passed, he felt let down again, thinking he must have imagined the whole thing. Todd and Dawn continued the vigil with heavy hearts.
Late in the afternoon, their beloved child, who had been unresponsive for days, opened his eyes, looked at them, and then closed his eyes for the last time. After consulting with the doctors, they made the decision to disconnect Cameron from all of the machines. They held him in their arms as he died, and said their good-byes. Then Todd and Dawn went back into the sleeping room to collect their things. Suddenly they realized that they had been holding Cameron at 5:38 p.m. when he died, just as God had told them. They left the hospital with a feeling of peace, knowing that God had been with them and had blessed them in their hour of need.
