Malachi Harper
Malachi James Cleve Harper, 19, of Breckenridge, Texas, passed away on November 5, 2025. His funeral service at the Gunsight Baptist church will be held on Tuesday, November 11, beginning at 1 p.m., with Patrick Frishe officiating.
Born October 25, 2006, he was the youngest of three boys in a family full of big personalities. As the “baby” of the family, Malachi’s quiet nature set him apart from the start. He spoke so softly that family members learned to lean in and listen. But what you heard was always worth the effort, usually something either profound or hilariously ridiculous. This quietness became a defining feature of his personality, not born of shyness but of thoughtful observation. Malachi wasn’t shy; he was reserved. He chose his words carefully and spoke with intention, and whether it was a random fact or a perfectly timed joke, his words always packed a punch.
Malachi was a deep thinker who loved to dive into his wide and varied interests. He memorized the periodic table, dabbled in sign language, and learned to solve a Rubik’s Cube. He taught himself how to play the piano and do card tricks. He was the master of useless trivia, which he loved to share at the most random times. All of this stemmed from a pure curiosity about the world, and yet, he kept most of his talents to himself. He had the uncanny ability to downplay major events in his life. In junior high, he won a school-wide science game show without ever mentioning to his family that he was even participating. And who could forget when he had his family scrambling to find a last-minute car and decorations for the Homecoming Parade after casually mentioning he was one of the honorees? Packing for college, he prioritized ramen and Hot Pockets over essentials, like….you know, towels. Malachi did his own thing in his own time.
But Malachi’s greatest talent wasn’t any skill he taught himself; it was how he made people feel. This was Malachi — flying under the radar yet ironically attracting attention. Known around town as “the kid with the hair,” he had a way of drawing people in. Customers at United Supermarkets loved his smile and friendly nature. Among his peers, he was known as the guy who accepted everyone as they were, without judgment – a rare quality among teenagers. He could make you laugh, but he was also a gifted listener. While he found friends in various places, the high school band was where he felt most at home. There, he could be both fun and serious, and he became a reluctant leader of the trumpet section. He had a knack for avoiding the spotlight, yet somehow it found him anyway.
Malachi was part of a large, blended family filled with strong personalities, and as the quietest of the bunch, he was also arguably the funniest. He had a special relationship with everyone in the family – he intuitively knew what each one needed and he delivered. The kid who could make his whole family roar with laughter over a well-delivered takedown was the same kid who would brush his mother’s hair for hours to help relieve a migraine. This empathy was his most beautiful quality. In his speech at graduation, Malachi’s oldest brother said “You are the best of us. Never change.” He was good and pure, and he was fiercely loved by so many.
He leaves behind so many people who will miss him beyond measure. He is survived by his parents, Parker and Rachelle Perry of Breckenridge, and father, Tori Harper of Post; brothers Jaylen Harper, Chicago Harper and Jackson Perry; sisters Faith Perry and Codie Perry; grandparents George and Karen Perry of Breckenridge, Connie Jones of Breckenridge, Jimmy Jones of Post, and Willie Ann Thurman of Post; many aunts, uncles, cousins, and half-siblings.
Malachi’s death leaves us with broken hearts and difficult questions. In his memory, we ask that you reach out to someone when you are hurting. When life seems too much to hold, just hold on. Hold on to the promise of peace that will come. Hold on to the truth that the world needs you in it, and that pain, no matter how big, is temporary. Hold on to the people who love you, even if you don’t think you deserve it. Hold on. We need you here. You are loved.
