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It was so terribly
cold. Snow was falling, and it was almost
dark. Evening came on, the last evening
of the year. In the cold and gloom a poor
little girl, bareheaded and barefoot, was
walking through the streets. Of course when
she had left her house she'd had slippers
on, but what good had they been? They were
very big slippers, way too big for her,
for they belonged to her mother. The little
girl had lost them running across the road,
where two carriages had rattled by terribly
fast. One slipper she'd not been able to
find again, and a boy had run off with the
other, saying he could use it very well
as a cradle some day when he had children
of his own. And so the little girl walked
on her naked feet, which were quite red
and blue with the cold. In an old apron
she carried several packages of matches,
and she held a box of them in her hand.
No one had bought any from her all day long,
and no one had given her a cent.
Shivering with
cold and hunger, she crept along, a picture
of misery, poor little girl! The snowflakes
fell on her long fair hair, which hung in
pretty curls over her neck. In all the windows
lights were shining, and there was a wonderful
smell of roast goose, for it was New Year's
eve. Yes, she thought of that!

In a corner
formed by two houses, one of which projected
farther out into the street than the other,
she sat down and drew up her little feet
under her. She was getting colder and colder,
but did not dare to go home, for she had
sold no matches, nor earned a single cent,
and her father would surely beat her. Besides,
it was cold at home, for they had nothing
over them but a roof through which the wind
whistled even though the biggest cracks
had been stuffed with straw and rags.
Her hands were
almost dead with cold. Oh, how much one
little match might warm her! If she could
only take one from the box and rub it against
the wall and warm her hands. She drew one
out. R-r-ratch! How it sputtered and burned!
It made a warm, bright flame, like a little
candle, as she held her hands over it; but
it gave a strange light! It really seemed
to the little girl as if she were sitting
before a great iron stove with shining brass
knobs and a brass cover. How wonderfully
the fire burned! How comfortable it was!
The youngster stretched out her feet to
warm them too; then the little flame went
out, the stove vanished, and she had only
the remains of the burnt match in her hand.

She struck
another match against the wall. It burned
brightly, and when the light fell upon the
wall it became transparent like a thin veil,
and she could see through it into a room.
On the table a snow-white cloth was spread,
and on it stood a shining dinner service.
The roast goose steamed gloriously, stuffed
with apples and prunes. And what was still
better, the goose jumped down from the dish
and waddled along the floor with a knife
and fork in its breast, right over to the
little girl. Then the match went out, and
she could see only the thick, cold wall.
She lighted another match. Then she was
sitting under the most beautiful Christmas
tree. It was much larger and much more beautiful
than the one she had seen last Christmas
through the glass door at the rich merchant's
home. Thousands of candles burned on the
green branches, and colored pictures like
those in the printshops looked down at her.
The little girl reached both her hands toward
them. Then the match went out. But the Christmas
lights mounted higher. She saw them now
as bright stars in the sky. One of them
fell down, forming a long line of fire.
"Now someone
is dying," thought the little girl, for
her old grandmother, the only person who
had loved her, and who was now dead, had
told her that when a star fell down a soul
went up to God. She rubbed another match
against the wall. It became bright again,
and in the glow the old grandmother stood
clear and shining, kind and lovely.

"Grandmother!"
cried the child. "Oh, take me with you!
I know you will disappear when the match
is burned out. You will vanish like the
warm stove, the wonderful roast goose and
the beautiful big Christmas tree!"
And she quickly
struck the whole bundle of matches, for
she wished to keep her grandmother with
her. And the matches burned with such a
glow that it became brighter than daylight.
Grandmother had never been so grand and
beautiful. She took the little girl in her
arms, and both of them flew in brightness
and joy above the earth, very, very high,
and up there was neither cold, nor hunger,
nor fear-they were with God.

But in the
corner, leaning against the wall, sat the
little girl with red cheeks and smiling
mouth, frozen to death on the last evening
of the old year. The New Year's sun rose
upon a little pathetic figure. The child
sat there, stiff and cold, holding the matches,
of which one bundle was almost burned.
"She wanted
to warm herself," the people said. No one
imagined what beautiful things she had seen,
and how happily she had gone with her old
grandmother into the bright New Year.






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