Brumble dragged a stool to the window. Outside, a little bird zipped over the hills with a twig in its beak.
Brumble pressed a paw to the glass. "Grandma is way past those hills," Brumble whispered, while the kettle gave a soft hiss.
So Brumble filled a tiny wagon with pinecones, acorns, and three shiny pebbles. It would be a present that could go all the way to Grandma.
Brumble pulled the wagon into the woods. It bumped over roots, and the pebbles went clack-clack.
At last the trail stopped at the big hill. Brumble looked up and up.
Brumble cupped both paws and called, "Helloooo, Grandma!" into the trees.
The woods answered, "Helloooo!" Brumble climbed onto a stump and tried again.
Then Brumble stood on a rock and shouted one more time. "Helloooo, Grandma!"
Back came a funny "Helloooo!" And a sleepy owl popped out and said, "Hoo is Grandma?"
Brumble climbed down and slumped beside a mossy log. The hill was still too big.
Then the wind whooshed through the pines. A curl of fallen birch bark flipped right to Brumble's feet like a little note.
Brumble picked it up fast. An idea popped bright and warm.
On the bark, Brumble scratched a picture of home and a big heart. Then Brumble tucked in one soft tuft of fur.
Brumble held the bark note up to the wind. "Please go to Grandma," Brumble said, and ran home as the pine-smell air rushed toward the hills.
That night, Brumble sat by the window holding Grandma's scarf. The hills were dark now.
Click! The front latch opened, and a little bundle dropped at the door.
Brumble opened a bark note with Grandma's paw-print and a pinch of lavender that smelled just like her house.
Brumble smiled and waved at the dark hills. Now the wind could carry hellos both ways.
