It was terribly cold and nearly dark on the last evening of the old
year, and the snow was falling fast. In the cold and the darkness, a
poor little girl, with bare head and naked feet, roamed through the
streets. It is true she had on a pair of slippers when she left
home, but they were not of much use. They were very large, so large,
indeed, that they had belonged to her mother, and the poor little
creature had lost them in running across the street to avoid two
carriages that were rolling along at a terrible rate. One of the
slippers she could not find, and a boy seized upon the other and ran
away with it, saying that he could use it as a cradle, when he had
children of his own. So the little girl went on with her little
naked feet, which were quite red and blue with the cold. In an old
apron she carried a number of matches, and had a bundle of them in
her hands. No one had bought anything of her the whole day, nor had
any one given here even a penny. Shivering with cold and hunger, she
crept along; poor little child, she looked the picture of misery.
The snowflakes fell on her long, fair hair, which hung in curls on
her shoulders, but she regarded them not.
Lights were shining from every window, and there was a savory smell
of roast goose, for it was New-year's eve– yes, she remembered that.
In a corner, between two houses, one of which projected beyond the
other, she sank down and huddled herself together. She had drawn her
little feet under her, but she could not keep off the cold; and she
dared not go home, for she had sold no matches, and could not take
home even a penny of money. Her father would certainly beat her;
besides, it was almost as cold at home as here, for they had only
the roof to cover them, through which the wind howled, although the
largest holes had been stopped up with straw and rags. Her little
hands were almost frozen with the cold. Ah! perhaps a burning match
might be some good, if she could draw it from the bundle and strike
it against the wall, just to warm her fingers. She drew one
out-“scratch!” how it sputtered as it burnt! It gave a warm, bright
light, like a little candle, as she held her hand over it. It was
really a wonderful light. It seemed to the little girl that she was
sitting by a large iron stove, with polished brass feet and a brass
ornament. How the fire burned! and seemed so beautifully warm that
the child stretched out her feet as if to warm them, when, lo! the
flame of the match went out, the stove vanished, and she had only
the remains of the half-burnt match in her hand.
She rubbed another match on the wall. It burst into a flame, and
where its light fell upon the wall it became as transparent as a
veil, and she could see into the room. The table was covered with a
snowy white table-cloth, on which stood a splendid dinner service,
and a steaming roast goose, stuffed with apples and dried plums. And
what was still more wonderful, the goose jumped down from the dish
and waddled across the floor, with a knife and fork in its breast,
to the little girl. Then the match went out, and there remained
nothing but the thick, damp, cold wall before her.
She lighted another match, and then she found herself sitting under
a beautiful Christmas-tree. It was larger and more beautifully
decorated than the one which she had seen through the glass door at
the rich merchant's. Thousands of tapers were burning upon the green
branches, and colored pictures, like those she had seen in the
show-windows, looked down upon it all. The little one stretched out
her hand towards them, and the match went out.
The Christmas lights rose higher and higher, till they looked to her
like the stars in the sky. Then she saw a star fall, leaving behind
it a bright streak of fire. “Some one is dying,” thought the little
girl, for her old grandmother, the only one who had ever loved her,
and who was now dead, had told her that when a star falls, a soul
was going up to God.
She again rubbed a match on the wall, and the light shone round her;
in the brightness stood her old grandmother, clear and shining, yet
mild and loving in her appearance. “Grandmother,” cried the little
one, “O take me with you; I know you will go away when the match
burns out; you will vanish like the warm stove, the roast goose, and
the large, glorious Christmas-tree.” And she made haste to light the
whole bundle of matches, for she wished to keep her grandmother
there. And the matches glowed with a light that was brighter than
the noon-day, and her grandmother had never appeared so large or so
beautiful. She took the little girl in her arms, and they both flew
upwards in brightness and joy far above the earth, where there was
neither cold nor hunger nor pain, for they were with God.
In the dawn of morning there lay the poor little one, with pale
cheeks and smiling mouth, leaning against the wall; she had been
frozen to death on the last evening of the year; and the New-year's
sun rose and shone upon a little corpse! The child still sat, in the
stiffness of death, holding the matches in her hand, one bundle of
which was burnt. “She tried to warm herself,” said some. No one
imagined what beautiful things she had seen, nor into what glory she
had entered with her grandmother, on New-year's day.
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