I was only Smurfteen. I loved Papa Smurf, I had all of his merchandise. Every night I pray to Papa, thanking him for Smurf-berries he has given me. "Smurf is love" I say,"Smurf is life." My dad hears me and calls me a blue disgrace. I knew he was jealous of my devotion to Papa. I call him Gargamel. He slaps me and sends me to my mushroom-shaped bed. I am crying now, and my blue painted face hurts. I feel a warmth approach me. Its a Papa Smurf.I am feeling Smurf-tastic. He whispers in my ear,"This is my mushroom hut." He gets me out of bed. He opens up his large red hat. I am ready. I stuff his hat with my Smurf-berries. It hurts me that I have no more berries but I do it for Papa. His hat is tearing from the amount of berries in it. He gives a mighty Huzzah as I fill his hat. My dad walks in. Papa looks him right in the eye and says, "It's all Smurf." He leaves through my open window. Smurf is love. Smurf is life.
