![]() I know you will go away when the match burns out. “Oh, grandmother,” cried the child, “take me with you. She struck yet another match against the wall, and again it was light and in the brightness there appeared before her the dear old grandmother, bright and radiant, yet sweet and mild, and happy as she had never looked on earth. “Now some one is dying,” murmured the child softly for her grandmother, the only person who had loved her, and who was now dead, had told her that whenever a star falls a soul mounts up to God. She saw them now as stars in heaven, and one of them fell, forming a long trail of fire. Still the lights of the Christmas tree rose higher and higher. ![]() The child stretched out her hands to them then the match went out. Hundreds of wax tapers were burning on the green branches, and gay figures, such as she had seen in shop windows, looked down upon her. ![]() And now she was under a most beautiful Christmas tree, larger and far more prettily trimmed than the one she had seen through the glass doors at the rich merchant’s. And what was more delightful still, and wonderful, the goose jumped from the dish, with knife and fork still in its breast, and waddled along the floor straight to the little girl.īut the match went out then, and nothing was left to her but the thick, damp wall. A snow-white cloth was spread upon the table, on which was a beautiful china dinner-service, while a roast goose, stuffed with apples and prunes, steamed famously and sent forth a most savory smell. It burned brightly, and where the light fell upon the wall it became transparent like a veil, so that she could see through it into the room. She rubbed another match against the wall. ![]() How comfortable she was! But lo! the flame went out, the stove vanished, and nothing remained but the little burned match in her hand. So blessedly it burned that the little maiden stretched out her feet to warm them also. It really seemed to the little girl as if she sat before a great iron stove with polished brass feet and brass shovel and tongs. Whisht! How it blazed and burned! It gave out a warm, bright flame like a little candle, as she held her hands over it. Alas! a single match might do her good if she might only draw it from the bundle, rub it against the wall, and warm her fingers by it. Her father would certainly beat her and, besides, it was cold enough at home, for they had only the house-roof above them, and though the largest holes had been stopped with straw and rags, there were left many through which the cold wind could whistle.Īnd now her little hands were nearly frozen with cold. She had drawn under her her little feet, but still she grew colder and colder yet she dared not go home, for she had sold no matches and could not bring a penny of money. In a corner formed by two houses, one of which projected beyond the other, she sat cowering down. Lights gleamed in every window, and there came to her the savory smell of roast goose, for it was New Year’s Eve. The snowflakes fell on her long flaxen hair, which hung in pretty curls about her throat but she thought not of her beauty nor of the cold. Poor little girl! Shivering with cold and hunger she crept along, a perfect picture of misery. No one had bought so much as a bunch all the long day, and no one had given her even a penny. In an old apron that she wore were bundles of matches, and she carried a bundle also in her hand. So on the little girl went with her bare feet, that were red and blue with cold. When she looked for them, one was not to be found, and a boy seized the other and ran away with it, saying he would use it for a cradle some day, when he had children of his own. When she left home she had slippers on, it is true but they were much too large for her feet-slippers that her mother had used till then, and the poor little girl lost them in running across the street when two carriages were passing terribly fast. In the cold and the darkness, there went along the street a poor little girl, bareheaded and with naked feet. It was dreadfully cold it was snowing fast, and was almost dark, as evening came on-the last evening of the year. We would encourage parents to read beforehand if your child is sensitive to such themes. This is a vintage fairy tale, and may contain violence. ![]()
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