Free A Season of Angels by Debbie Macomber Page B

in in agreement. “In case you haven’t guessed, Goodness and I are experiencing some minor difficulties.”
    â€œIt might help,” Shirley said in gentle, forgiving tones, “if you stayed away from escalators and television screens.”
    â€œYou heard?” Goodness ventured.
    Shirley nodded. “And so has Gabriel.”
    Mercy closed her eyes. “Is he furious?”
    â€œHe hasn’t pulled you off the assignment, has he?” Shirley asked. “I heard what you said this afternoon, and you’re right. Gabriel doesn’t have the angel-power to replace you just now and I’m sure all will be forgiven if, and it’s a big if, Mercy is able to help Leah find her peace. Goodness, you’ve got to help Monica find a decent husband.”
    â€œI thought it’d be easier than it is,” Goodness confessed in a small voice.
    Mercy joined her friend, sagging defeatedly into a chair. “We could both do with some suggestions. This prayer business is difficult work.”
    Goodness agreed with a sharp nod. “Being around humans for any length of time is enough to make any angel go stir-crazy.”
    Shirley did a poor job of containing a smile. How well she understood her friends’ frustrations. Most of her career had been spent working with humans. “Just don’t ever volunteer to work as a guardian then,” she suggested. The stories she could tell!
    â€œCan you help us, Shirley?” Mercy asked.
    Her friends’ faces were both tired and gloomy, and Shirley didn’t know if she had any words of wisdom to offer them. “I can try. Tell me what’s happening.”
    Mercy and Goodness exchanged glances. “You go first,” Goodness suggested.
    â€œI’ve already told you about Leah’s day. I’ve spent most of my time observing her, and frankly, I haven’t gained a lot of insight into her personality. She holds her pain deep inside herself, unwilling to give up even the smallest portion of it, as if it were something of value.”
    Shirley thoughtfully mulled over this information. “If that’s the case, it seems to me she must find joy before she finds peace.”
    Stubbornly Mercy folded her arms and frowned and her chest lifted with a gigantic sigh. “Gabriel didn’t say anything about joy. All he mentioned was peace. Who exactly does he think I am, St. Peter?”
    â€œPerhaps that was the problem with the other prayer ambassadors. They were looking for shortcuts as well.”
    â€œOh, all right,” Mercy said ungraciously. “But how am I supposed to teach her about joy? Joy, peace, what’s the difference?”
    â€œWhat are Leah’s favorite things?”
    Mercy frowned. “It’s difficult to tell. She enjoys her home, but she’d gladly relinquish it for the chance to be a mother. While she was with her friend this afternoon, they talked quite a bit about Pam’s kids. A spark shone from Leah as they discussed the children, especially her friend’s three-year-old. I think she said his name was Scotty.”
    â€œChildren,” Shirley repeated, her thoughts deep and grave.
    â€œBut that’s the crux of the problem, don’t you see,” Mercy said, and the expression in her eyes changed, becoming more intent. “She doesn’t have a child so she holds fast to her disappointment. The child will bring her the true joy, and I doubt that anything else will.”
    Goodness had grown especially quiet. “What if you brought a child into her life for a short time, like a weekend or something? You could manage that, couldn’t you?”
    â€œI suppose.” But Mercy didn’t sound overly enthusiastic.
    â€œIf she had a taste of deep inner happiness, she might be willing to release a portion of her pain,” Goodness added. “It seems to me what Shirley’s saying is that what Leah really needs isn’t an absence of