The Little Match Girl
It was new year's Eve, and the weather was
bitterly cold. The sky was pitch black, and snow fell in large flaks. In the
midst of the blizzard, a little girl staggered down the street, her head and
feet bare. When she had left home, she had been wearing old slippers, but as
she was crossing the road, she had been in such a hurry, that she had lost both
of them. One of them had fallen right under the wheels of a large carriage, and
the other had been grabbed by an urchin who wanted to use it as a boat.
The little girl staggered along her naked feet
blue with cold. In her torn and dirty apron, she carried a large bundle of
matches. She held a matchbox in her hand. She had a very bad day. No one had
bought a single match from her. She was cold and hungry and was frightened to
go home, because her father would beat her when he discovered she had not
earned a penny. The snow continued to fall and the flakes looked like swan
feathers in her pretty, curly, blonde hair. But what did she care about having
lovely hair? All she knew was that on New Year's Eve all other little children
and their parents enjoyed a big celebration feast.
The little girl found a spot in
between two houses where she sat down, becoming colder and more frozen. What
was the point of going home where her father would be angry with her? In any
case, it was almost as cold inside her home as outside, the wind whistled so
sharply through the large cracks in the walls.

Too late! The stove had disappeared.
All that remained was the blackened stump of a match in her fingers.
The little girl decided to strike a
second match. This time, the flame was even brighter and more beautiful. The
little girl saw a room containing a table covered with beautiful china. A large
roast goose, all brown and plump, lay on a handsome platter. Then, suddenly,
the goose rolled off the table and disappeared. All that lay before the child
was the cold, gray street. It was unbearable.
The little girl desperately wanted
to find the copper stove that had crackled so joyfully and the tasty goose that
had smelled so delicious...
The little match seller struck a
third match and found herself transported immediately to a beautiful house that
contained a shining Christmas tree, covered with glittering garlands and
brightly colored balls. Fruit and toys hung from the branches. Children were
dancing in a ring around the tree, and they took her hand and brought her into
the circle.
The little girls wanted to join in
the dancing, but suddenly she was outside in the cold again. The snow had
stopped and the stars shone over the dark, deserted street. A few passers by,
in a hurry to get back to their friends and family, rushed past without
seeing the little girl, who huddled between two houses and stared at the sky.
A shooting star left a long and
brilliant trail. The little girl knew that this meant someone was about to die.
Her old grandmother, the only person who had ever been kind to her, had taught
her this: if a star falls, it means that a soul has gone to God. She struck
another match and this time her grandmother appeared to her, looking as she
used to, with her sweet and gentle expression.
''Grandmother take me away!''
begged the little match girl. ''Do not leave me alone. I know that when
the match goes out you will disappear just like everything else I have seen
until now. Like the fire that burned so brightly, like the goose that smelled
so delicious, like the Christmas tree, you will fly away and I shall be left
all alone in the dark street without anyone to look after me.'' Terrified
at the idea of being abandoned once again, the little girl lit not one solitary
match, but burned the whole box. Her grandmother reappeared, looking so
beautiful in her black velvet gown, that she wore only on special occasions.
The old lady smiled tenderly at
her granddaughter and took her in her arms. Then they flew away into the sky
amid the brilliant glow of the matches, and were soon in heaven. The dawn
broke on New Year's Day. A passer by discovered the barefoot little girl with
curly hair, lying dead in the snow. All around her lay spent matches.
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