Free Touched By Angels by Debbie Macomber

folded sheet. Goodness and Mercy crowded close in an effort to read over her shoulder.
    “The prayer request is from Craig Houle,” the angel told them. “He’s ten and has asked God for a chess set for Christmas.”
    “You’ve got to be kidding.” Mercy flapped her wings in a display of disgust. “A chess set for a ten-year-old boy. Why, that’s an insult to our good names.”
    “We have a tradition to uphold.”
    Goodness couldn’t stay in one spot, not when she was this angry. “It’s a matter of pride. If anyone could help Brynn Cassidy with those high schoolers, it’s Shirley. This other stuff is child’s play.”
    “Exactly!” Shirley declared. “We have something to prove, so let’s do it.”
    Indignant, the three returned to earth, their feathers in a dither, swirling down on the unsuspecting city like the Horsemen due from the Apocalypse.
    “Exactly where does this Craig Houle live?” Goodness demanded as the three hovered over the Queensboro Bridge. Gabriel should count his blessings. There was a time, not so long past, when Goodness would have taken delight in dallying with streetlights and rerouting New York City traffic.
    “According to this, Craig lives on Roosevelt Island,” Shirley answered, reading over the request form. “At this time of day, he’s most likely in school.”
    “Yes, but it’s his parents we need to influence, right?” Mercy asked, thinking on her feet—er, wings.
    “Right,” the other two agreed.
    “Then all we need do is convince his mother or father to do a little pre-Christmas shopping.”
    Goodness made a tsk-tsk sound. “I think it’s time we taught Gabriel a lesson on just how good we are.”
    “I don’t believe I’ve ever been more offended,” Shirley said as the three briskly headed toward Roosevelt Island.

    Peggy Houle walked down the quiet hospital corridor and sat at the nurses’ station. Her rubber soles barely made a sound on the polished tile floor.
    She started to make a notation in one of her patient’s charts when she noticed a newspaper spread open across the top of the counter.
    “That’s odd,” she mumbled to herself, and scooted the paper aside.
    She looked around, wondering who’d left it. One thing was certain: none of the nurses were accorded the luxury of sitting down and reading. Not while on duty, at any rate. The hospital was short-staffed as it was, and breaks, even the ones allotted them in the terms of their contract, were often few and far between.
    “My dogs are barking.” Ellen Freeman, another nurse, joined Peggy. She slipped off her shoe and rubbed her sore toes. “This is what I get for not breaking in these new shoes first.” She reached for the newspaper. “Who left this?”
    “I don’t know. It wasn’t here five minutes ago.”
    “Look,” Ellen said, pointing to the printed page. “There’s a gigantic toy sale going on for the next couple of days. I haven’t even started my Christmas shopping.”
    “I was finished last week,” Peggy said, feeling almost smug. She’d hit the stores her first day off following Thanksgiving and finished it all in one fell swoop—wrapping paper, new decorations, tinsel, the whole nine yards.
    There wasn’t a reason on this earth good enough for her to voluntarily step inside a store again in the whole month of December. Not when it seemed the entire city had gone crazy. At the end of her shift all Peggy wanted to do was head home.
    “I’ve been thinking I’d buy the kids educational gifts this year,” Ellen murmured. “Something that will stir their minds instead of those brainless television games. I can’t tell you how sick I am of them sitting like zombies holding on to their joysticks.”
    “A chess set?” Peggy said, and snapped her head back, startled.
    “A chess set,” Ellen repeated, oblivious of her friend’s chagrin. “Now that I think about it, you’re right. A chess set is an excellent idea.”
    “What did I just say?”
    “A chess