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His ”brown” family. Yep, that’s what he called them. Beverly, Johnny, Marcus and Byron Bell were their names. I was working at a gas station in 1998 when I found myself needing nighttime daycare. There weren’t a lot of options around here and Bev was the first person I called. Sometime during their time with her, I began to notice that the differences in their colors were nothing to them. The boys were the only white children there, but they were making friends easily and seemed happy. Time wore on and Bev began to take such a personal interest in them, giving them birthday parties, Christmas gifts and even bringing back souvenirs when she went on vacation. Tyler began to call them his ”Brown” family. They were Bev’s family and she was theirs. The whole family, grandparents, aunts uncles, everyone embraced Tyler and the boys with open arms. In April of 2000, when Tyler was taken from us, at my deepest time of pain and need, I would learn a lesson that he had long learned. When I stood at his casket, as the people flooded in, I met many, many members of his brown family. They flooded the funeral home, telling me how blessed they were to have had him in their life for a small time. The next day, at his funeral, when his very own paternal grandparents refused to sit with his family, the Bell family came through. They held me, hugged me, comforted me, and took me in as one of their own. All in that moment I realized they were not just Tyler’s brown family, they were family, without regards to color or race. They were our family and will always be important in my heart. Thank you Beverly, for teaching both Tyler and myself important life lessons, Family knows no color. Love is truly all you need


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