Maleah’s joy celebrated during private funeral
The private funeral remembered Maleah Davis as her family wanted: a girl who loved drawing rainbows and twirling in a tutu.
Her four years of life had met a gruesome public end that captivated the nation, but in the Saturday morning ceremony, the scrutinized family had a personal moment to grieve.
Gone was their gap-toothed girl with an infectious smile, whose story ended in an almost unfathomable way, with her remains mowed over while in a trash bag by an Arkansas road and scattered with her pink barrette.
The 90-minute service at the Crossing Community Church was perhaps an effort to rewrite that ending, if not for public view, then at least for the family, navigating what it meant to have the world watching.
It was a reminder that at the heart of a wrenching story of twists and turns and opportunities missed were those now suffering the death of a child.
An Amber Alert in May helped launch the story of Maleah’s alleged roadside abduction. That narrative turned out to be a likely invention of the mother’s fiancé, Derion Vence, later arrested and charged with tampering with a corpse.
No one could imagine how a girl so adorable could slip through cracks, even as the news arose that Child Protective Services took temporary custody of her and her
siblings after a hospital treated her for head injury last August.
The children had only recently returned to live with their mother when Maleah disappeared. What their lives were like is largely unknown to the public, and who will take care of Maleah’s brothers is to be determined in court.
Vence was still jailed the morning of her funeral, and her cause of death still is pending. For weeks after she disappeared, people wondered if her remains would even be found — if police would get that evidence and family this semblance of closure.
The service renewed a focus on Maleah’s joy in life. Some of those gathered wore pink, her favorite color. “Fly high angel,” read the rubber pink bracelets that attendees were given.
Her small casket, decorated with characters from My Little Pony, was piledhigh with rainbow-colored roses. A Texas company donated it. The funeral home, according to its website, collected $2,355 more.
On the front of a program, an edited image showed Maleah holding a rainbow, like the ones on her casket, in an outstretched hand. It was a version of an image that had circulated among strangers after she disappeared.
Printed messages from relatives — who have faced public criticism for not doing enough to help protect her in life — filled several program pages.
From her father, Craig Davis: “Maleah, the whole world loves you, baby, and I know you love them back.”
From her mother, Brittany Bowens: “Every day, waking up to you, I’d always see the better version of me.”
From her younger halfbrother: “I’ll never forget you, Maleah.”
Inside the church, relatives offered “reflections of love,” according to the program. The pastor from Immanuel Worship Center gave a “message of comfort.” Tim Miller, who led volunteers searching for her remains, was an honorary pallbearer.
It was an uplifting service, said Mayor Sylvester Turner, who spoke during it. He said he believed that Maleah united the city, leaving Houston parents with the powerful message to watch over their kids.
“This was not a sad funeral,” Turner said. “I do believe very strongly that because of Maleah, more children are being protected, being loved, being nurtured than ever before.”
Congresswoman Sheila Jackson Lee, who also spoke at the service, described Maleah as “America’s child.” The Houston Democrat said the promise must now be that more children find love instead of hate.
“Today, what we wanted to do was offer love to the mother and to the father and to the family members,” she said. “Maleah stood for love.”
In her obituary, the family described Maleah as “happiness personified.” The tribute remembered her as a child who made friends easily, and who loved music, especially the song “Baby Shark.”
“Maleah spread love and laughter where she went,” her obituary read. “She has left a profound message of love on this world that will never be forgotten.”
The program included an imagined letter from her.
“I loved life,” it said. “Thank you for loving me.”
The motorcade left at 11:50 a.m., with five dark vehicles in front of the hearse and five behind it. Davis, her father, that morning had posted on Instagram from inside a vehicle, wearing sunglasses and a shirt that said “Daddy Loves You.”
One could see a final glimpse of color through the tinted back window of the hearse as it drove away, carrying her remains, at last, to the grave.