"Silent night, holy night!" What beautiful words to a beautiful song, written so long ago--a song that so perfectly captures the calm, serenity, and peace of that wonderful first Christmas night.

Nine-year-old Joan lay on her bed, listening to the Christmas carols that played downstairs where her mom, Angela Jenson, was fixing their Christmas Eve meal. Joan smiled as she thought of how her mom loved to listen to those old Christmas carols over and over again. Her favorite, "Silent Night," seemed to be playing for the hundredth time now. Her mom never tired of hearing it.

Joan was an only child and lived alone with her mother in a quiet suburban neighborhood. She had spent most of the day inside the house. Now it was mid-afternoon and she was restless. She needed to do something outside. There would be plenty of time with her mom and relatives during the Christmas celebrations, but now she felt like finding some friends to be with.

One friend's house was just down the street, on the other side--so off Joan went. She had been taught to be careful when crossing the street, and normally she was. This time, however, Joan's mind was busy with thoughts of the games she and her friend would play and things they would do before dark. Without stopping at the curb or glancing to see if there was any traffic, Joan ran into the street.

There was a sudden screeching of tires and an awful thud--and then the sound of a car roaring off. Angela heard it all from her kitchen. Her whole world hushed. Somehow she knew what had happened. She dropped her cooking and ran out the door. There, to her horror, Joan lay motionless in the street.

Anguish flooded Angela's heart and mind. The peace and calm she had felt only moments before had been replaced with terrible pain. She raced to her daughter's side.

Other doors opened and neighbors came out of their houses to see what had happened.

"Quick!" Angela shouted, her voice quivering. "Call an ambulance. My girl is hurt!"

"Oh, God! Please save my little daughter! Please don't let her die!"

Kneeling over her daughter, Angela brushed the hair from Joan's face. Joan was unconscious, but breathing. Thank God! she thought, She's alive. There's hope. Then came a silent prayer. Oh, God! Please save my little daughter! Please don't let her die!

At the hospital the doctors found that Joan had suffered a severe concussion and her arm had been broken. Considering the force of the impact, the doctors said it was a miracle that it hadn't been worse.

Joan's condition was stable, but hours passed and Joan didn't regain consciousness.

Late into the night, Angela sat at her daughter's bedside and held her hand. Christmas seemed impossible now, yet that old familiar strain ran through her mind. Silent night, holy night ... Angela buried her face in her hands. Oh, dear God, she prayed, will this be my silent night? Will Joan stay silent and still? Is she going to die? This was not the kind of silence she had ever imagined would befall her at Christmas. She felt so completely alone.

Silent night, holy night, all is calm, all is bright. The words first echoed through her mind, and then she began to sing them softly.

Silent night, holy night.
All is calm; all is bright
'Round yon virgin, mother and child.
Holy infant, so tender and mild,
Sleep in heavenly peace.
Sleep in heavenly peace.

In the stillness of that hospital room, Angela began to feel a serenity that she had never experienced before. Then one word came clearly to mind: Pray.

There was nothing else she could do and no one else to turn to, so Angela bared her soul to God in prayer for her daughter.

The peace that she had felt before she prayed remained with her throughout the night. Just as Angela watched over her daughter, she knew that God was there in that room, watching over both of them as He had watched over His newborn Son on this night long ago. Surely He understood a parent's love. Surely He was concerned and would answer her prayer.

Christmas morning came softly as the first rays of sunlight pierced the room. "Mommy? Mommy, is that you?"

Angela raised her weary head. She had fallen asleep in her chair where she had been praying.

"Joan, are you all right?"

"Yes, Mommy, but my head hurts."

Angela reached over and kissed her dear daughter. Tears of joy began streaming down her face, as she whispered thanks to the One who had stayed by their side through the night. "Thank You! Thank You for watching over us, and for answering my prayer!" Her daughter was back! That was all she could have wished for this Christmas.

But there was more to be thankful for. Her favorite Christmas carol had taken on a new meaning, for Angela had seen the power of prayer and experienced the perfect peace that trusting God can bring.