Billy was quiet for a moment, then asked, "When is my face going to turn black like yours?" "It's not ever going to turn black, Punkin." "Why not?" "It's just not, that's why. When God makes up his mind what color a flower's going to be, that's what color it is. And it's never going to change. We're God's little flowers, you and me, and he picked me for black and you for pink, which is what most folks call white." Neither spoke for a while, th...
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