once upon a time a little girl tried to make a living by selling matches in
the street it was new years eve and the snowed streets were deserted from
brightly lit windows came the tinkle of laughter and the sound of singing
people were getting ready to bring in the new year but the poor little
match seller sat sadly beside the fountain her ragged dress and worn shawl
did not keep out the cold and she tried to keep her bare feet from touching
the frozen ground she hadnt sold one box of matches all day and she was
frightened to go home for her father would certainly be angry it wouldnt be
much warmer anyway in the draughty attic that was her home the little girls
fingers were stiff with cold if only she could light a match but what would
her father say at such a waste Falteringly she took out a match and lit it
what a nice warm flame the little matchseller cupped her hand over it and
as she did so she magically saw in its light a big brightly burning stove
she held out her hands to the heat but just then the match went out and the
vision faded the night seemed blacker than before and it was getting colder
a shiver ran through the lttle girls thin body after hesitating for a long
time she struck another match on the wall and this time the glimmer turned
the wall into a great sheet of crystal beyond that stood a fine table laden
with food and lit by a candlestick holding out her arms towards the plates
the little matchseller seemed to pass through the glass but then the match
went out and the magic faded poor thing in just a few seconds she had
caught a glimpse of everything that life had denied her warmth and good
things to eat Her eyes filled with tears and she lifted her gaze to the lit
windows praying that she too might know a little of such happiness she lit
the third match and an even more wonderful thing happened there stood a
christmas tree hung with hundreds of candles glittering with tinsel and
coloured balls oh how lovely exclaimed the little matchseller holding up
the match then the match burned her finger and flickered out the light from
the christmas candles rose higher and higher then one of the lights fell
leaving a trail behind it someone is dying murmured the little girl as she
remembered her beloved Granny who used to say When a star falls a heart
stops beating scarcely aware of what she was doing the little matchseller
lit another match this time she saw her grandmother a cold day dawned and
a pale sun shone on the fountain and the icy road close by lay the lifeless
body of a little girl surrounded by spent matches poor little thing
exclaimed the passersby she was trying to keep warm