point of grace
labor of love
It was not a silent night There was blood on the ground You could hear a woman cry In the alleyways that night On the streets of David's town  And the stable was not clean And the cobblestones were cold And little Mary full of grace With the tears upon her face Had no mother's hand to hold  It was a labor of pain It was a cold sky above But for the girl on the ground in the dark With every beat of her beautiful heart It was a labor of love  Noble Joseph at her side Callused hands and weary eyes There were no midwives to be found On the streets of David's town In the middle of the night  So he held her and he prayed Shafts of moonlight on his face For the baby in her womb He was the maker of the moon He was the author of the faith That could make the mountains move  It was a labor of pain It was a cold sky above But for the girl on the ground in the dark With every beat of her beautiful heart It was a labor of love  For little Mary full of grace With the tears upon her face It was a labor of love  It was not a silent night On the streets of David's town