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.