The Little Match Girl

Also Known as......

The Little Match Seller

By

Hans Christian Anderson

(Mouse-over matchgirl graphic to "lite it up.")

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 darkness, a poor little
girl with bare head and naked feet, roamed thru 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, for they
had belonged to her Mother and the poor little girl had lost them in
running across the street to avoid two carriages that were rolling at a
 terrible rate.
One of the slippers she could not find, and a boy seized the other and
ran away with it saying 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 anyone

 given her even a penny. Shivering with cold and hunger, she crept
along, looking like the picture of misery.  The snowflakes fell on her
 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 could not keep
off the cold.  And she dared not go home, for she had sold no matches.
 
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.
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 as though she was
sitting by a large iron stove.  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 it's
to the little girl. Then the match went out, and there remained nothing
but the thick, damp, cold wall before her.

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 on the last evening of the year; and the
New-year's sun rose and shone upon a little child. The child still sat,
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.
Next
Back

Guestbook