A gust banged the shutters. Hazelhug ran to the window. One old postcard fluttered off the shelf and landed right on Hazelhug's nose.
Hazelhug caught it and looked at Grandma waving in the picture. Rain tapped on the glass. "I miss you," said Hazelhug. Then Hazelhug hurried to find a way to send love beyond the hills.
First Hazelhug folded paper. The first note became a lumpy paper ball. The second flew straight into the soup pot with a plop. Hazelhug sighed and fished out the soggy note.
Then Hazelhug saw Grandma's knitting basket by the rocking chair. A new idea popped up. Hazelhug tied a message to a long red yarn strand and walked down the woodland path, unrolling it past ferns, stones, and a mossy stump.
Hazelhug smiled at the bright line trailing behind. But a gust swooped the yarn up into a tree like a silly red squirrel tail. Hazelhug grabbed the end, pulled hard, and waited.
Then the yarn twitched back with three neat pulls—tug, tug, tug! A tiny bell began to ring. Hazelhug laughed. "Hi, Grandma!" Back home, the red yarn hung by the window, and every evening the bell gave a cheerful ting from far beyond the hills.
