“For Jaxen”: A Mother’s Hope for One More Birthday
He’s counting down the days.
Two weeks from today, Jaxen McCall will turn ten.
He’s so excited — the way any child would be — dreaming of balloons, cake, maybe even a few candles to blow out. But behind his shy smile, his mother knows the truth that most parents could never bear:
Jaxen is autistic and non-verbal, but his joy speaks louder than words ever could. His laugh, his love for simple things, his fascination with colors and lights — those are the ways he communicates. But for nearly a year, his life has been a quiet war against
His mother, Randa McCall, has been fighting right alongside him — not only against cancer, but against everything else that comes with it. She’s a single mother raising her children in public housing in
Their car broke down months ago. The trips to Children’s of Alabama now come through Uber and Lyft — rides that cost more than she can afford but less than she’s willing to lose. Because no price is too high when it comes to time with your child.
And time, right now, is precious.
“Doctors are pretty much at the end of the line,” Randa said quietly last night. “I’m thinking they are giving Jaxen radiation so he can make it to his birthday.”
It was nearly 9:30 p.m. when she said it. Her voice was calm, tired — not from giving up, but from carrying the kind of weight only a mother who’s watched her child suffer can know.
The doctors have stopped chemotherapy. Radiation continues, not to cure, but to comfort — to give Jaxen strength enough to reach his tenth birthday on October 23rd.
It’s a strange thing to measure hope in weeks.
To pray for one more sunrise, one more laugh, one more smile.
But that’s where Randa is — clinging fiercely to whatever light remains.
Each morning, she wakes up in the hospital room, brushes Jaxen’s hair, whispers that she loves him, and hopes that when his big day comes, he’ll still be here to hear her say it.
They plan to return home next Monday. The walls of their small apartment will welcome them with quiet, the kind that holds both love and fear. Randa will try to make it festive — maybe some streamers, maybe a cake. Something beautiful for a boy who deserves the world.
“Thanks for writing about my son,” she said softly before hanging up the phone. Then, after a pause that said more than words ever could, she added, “My next update might be about his passing.”
Then she thanked me again. Said it was time for bed.
Those are the moments that stop you cold — when you realize that heroism doesn’t always look like soldiers or firefighters. Sometimes, it’s a mother tucking her child into bed while knowing that each goodnight could be the last.
And yet, she still whispers it: “Goodnight, sweetheart. I love you.”
She still believes in miracles, even when science says otherwise.
She still plans his birthday, even when tomorrow isn’t promised.
She still chooses love, every single day.
That’s what mothers do.
As for Jaxen — he keeps smiling. He doesn’t know the words “terminal” or “time left.” He just knows that his birthday is coming soon, that there might be cake, and that his mom will be there — the one constant light in a world that’s been too hard for too long.
There’s something sacred in that simplicity — in the way children find joy even in the shadow of pain.
So, two weeks from today, if you think of it, take a moment to wish Jaxen a happy birthday.
Pray that he makes it.
Pray that he feels no pain.
Pray that he laughs — a deep, pure, childlike laugh — the kind that makes time stand still.
Because even if his body grows tired, even if the days ahead are uncertain,
And that spirit — that beautiful, gentle, resilient light — deserves to be celebrated.
For Jaxen.
For his mother, who never stopped loving or fighting.
For the miracle of one more day.
💛 Happy early birthday, Jaxen. The world is praying for you.
Sasha’s New Chance: A Journey of Courage, Pain, and Hope
For Sasha and her family, the past few days have been a storm—one that tested the limits of endurance and revealed depths of courage no one knew existed. Alarms from hospital monitors pierced the night, her pain unbearable, until there was no choice but to move her into the ICU.
Yet even in that place of shadows, Sasha shines.
When the medicine calms the storm inside her body, she returns to her family in fleeting, miraculous minutes—fifteen here, twenty there. In those moments, her personality breaks through like sunlight through clouds, reminding everyone of the girl who refuses to be silenced by illness.
Small Moments, Big Courage
Every day, Sasha asks her mother the same question: “Mommy, how do I look?” It is a question both simple and profound. Her mother’s tears come not from sadness but from awe. Awe at her daughter’s strength. Awe at her bravery. Awe at the way Sasha redefines beauty—not in appearance, but in courage.
“You look incredible,” her mother whispers each time, and it is the truest thing she has ever said.
Family has surrounded Sasha, filling her hospital room with voices of love, laughter, and comfort. Even her new kitten was allowed to curl beside her, a small reminder that love always finds its way in, no matter the barriers.
A Life Lived Fully
Looking back, Sasha’s mother is grateful for every impromptu trip, every moment they dared to say yes. In three years, they have lived more than in the ten before. Beaches, Disney adventures, family travels—their memories have become armor against despair.
Because of Sasha, they learned to stop waiting for the perfect moment. They learned to live now.
A New Target, A New Chance
Just days ago, the family was told the current therapy was no longer strong enough. The news was devastating, another blow in a battle already filled with too many. But today brought a new glimmer of hope: a new target on the tumor, a new treatment plan, a new chance.
It is not a guarantee. It is not a cure. But it is something to hold onto, a lantern in the dark. And so, once again, Sasha and her family prepare to give everything they have, because hope is never wasted.
Strength Beyond One Family
Sasha’s journey is not just her own—it is part of a larger fight shared by countless children and families. “Every step we take is in honor of the warriors who have fought before us, for the warriors still fighting beside us, and for those whose battles are yet to begin,” her mother writes.
Each story, each struggle, each light carries the community forward—step by step—toward a day when there will finally be a cure.
A Call to Carry Sasha in Your Heart
Sasha’s resilience is more than inspiring; it is a lesson to everyone who knows her story. She reminds us to cherish small moments, to choose life now, to see courage in the eyes of a child who dares to ask, “How do I look?” even in the midst of suffering.
Today, as Sasha faces her new chance, we are reminded of what matters most: love, courage, and the determination to never stop fighting.
🎗️ Hold Sasha and her family close in your hearts. Send prayers, encouragement, and love. Because in this battle, no warrior fights alone.
