

Sara loved blueberries. She liked to eat them for breakfast, snack and dessert. She liked to make blueberry pies, muffins and jam with her mom. She liked to pick blueberries from the bushes in the garden. She liked to share blueberries with her friends and family.
One day, Sara's mom told her they were going to visit her grandma. Sara was happy, because she loved her grandma. She wanted to bring her a gift. She decided to make a blueberry pie for her grandma, because she knew her grandma loved blueberries too.
Sara and her mom baked the pie together. They mixed the flour, the butter, the sugar and the eggs. They rolled the dough and put it in the pan. They filled it with blueberries and sprinkled some more sugar on top. They put the pie in the oven and waited for it to bake.
When the pie was ready, Sara and her mom took it out of the oven. It smelled so good. Sara was proud of her pie. She wrapped it in a cloth and put it in a basket. She and her mom got in the car and drove to grandma's house.
Sara was excited to see her grandma. She ran to the door and knocked. Grandma opened the door and smiled. She hugged Sara and her mom and invited them in. Sara gave her the basket and said, "Grandma, I made you a blueberry pie. I hope you like it."
Grandma was very happy. She thanked Sara and her mom and took the basket to the kitchen. She opened the cloth and looked at the pie. She gasped. The pie was not blue. It was purple. The blueberries had burst and leaked their juice all over the dough. The pie looked messy and ugly.
Sara followed her grandma to the kitchen. She saw the pie and felt sad. She had worked so hard to make a nice pie for her grandma. She thought her grandma would not want to eat it. She thought her grandma would be mad at her. She said, "Grandma, I'm sorry. I don't know what happened. The pie was blue when I put it in the oven. I wanted to make you a good pie. Please don't be mad at me."
Grandma looked at Sara and smiled. She hugged her and said, "Sara, don't be sorry. I'm not mad at you. I'm very proud of you. You made me a pie with your own hands. You used your favorite fruit. You wanted to make me happy. That's the best gift you could ever give me. I don't care what color the pie is. I'm sure it tastes delicious. Let's serve it to your mom and have some tea. We'll have a wonderful time together."
Sara felt better. She smiled and hugged her grandma back. She helped her grandma cut the pie and put it on plates. They served it to her mom and sat down at the table. They ate the pie and drank the tea. They talked and laughed and told stories. Sara realized that the pie was not miserable. It was special. It was a pie made with love. And love made everything taste better.
