Much ado about 48 pretentious lines that speak no evil but tell no story. A poem (only because it rhymes) in which the Mother/Child motif is a metaphor for a girl and her doll -- or vice-versa -- or both -- but really neither. The monotonous music is as singable as a dirge. The watery winter scene pictures are vivid aqua. The pageant directions are insultingly obvious (except the notion of ""Mary and her family wearing Indian dress"", a suggested variation). Altogether, it's more padded than your neighborhood Santa: 3 lines to a page and a recap of the entire carol in formal poem style after it appears with illustrations and before it appears once again with the music. The play must be the thing, because nothing else is...