Bab Bab 15 · The Little Match Girl

. The Little Match Girl

Most terribly cold it was; it snowed, and was nearly quite dark, and

evening--the last evening of the year. In this cold and darkness there

went along the street a poor little girl, bareheaded, and with naked

feet. When she left home she had slippers on, it is true; but what was

the good of that? They were very large slippers, which her mother had

hitherto worn; so large were they; and the poor little thing lost them

as she scuffled away across the street, because of two carriages that

rolled by dreadfully fast.

One slipper was nowhere to be found; the other had been laid hold of by

an urchin, and off he ran with it; he thought it would do capitally for

a cradle when he some day or other should have children himself. So the

little maiden walked on with her tiny naked feet, that were quite red

and blue from cold. She carried a quantity of matches in an old apron,

and she held a bundle of them in her hand. Nobody had bought anything of

her the whole livelong day; no one had given her a single farthing.

She crept along trembling with cold and hunger--a very picture of

sorrow, the poor little thing!

The flakes of snow covered her long fair hair, which fell in beautiful

curls around her neck; but of that, of course, she never once now

thought. From all the windows the candles were gleaming, and it smelt so

deliciously of roast goose, for you know it was New Year's Eve; yes, of

that she thought.

In a corner formed by two houses, of which one advanced more than the

other, she seated herself down and cowered together. Her little feet

she had drawn close up to her, but she grew colder and colder, and to go

home she did not venture, for she had not sold any matches and could

not bring a farthing of money: from her father she would certainly get

blows, and at home it was cold too, for above her she had only the roof,

through which the wind whistled, even though the largest cracks were

stopped up with straw and rags.

Her little hands were almost numbed with cold. Oh! a match might afford

her a world of comfort, if she only dared take a single one out of the

bundle, draw it against the wall, and warm her fingers by it. She drew

one out. “Rischt!” how it blazed, how it burnt! It was a warm, bright

flame, like a candle, as she held her hands over it: it was a wonderful

light. It seemed really to the little maiden as though she were sitting

before a large iron stove, with burnished brass feet and a brass

ornament at top. The fire burned with such blessed influence; it warmed

so delightfully. The little girl had already stretched out her feet to

warm them too; but--the small flame went out, the stove vanished: she

had only the remains of the burnt-out match in her hand.

She rubbed another against the wall: it burned brightly, and where the

light fell on the wall, there the wall became transparent like a

veil, so that she could see into the room. On the table was spread a

snow-white tablecloth; upon it was a splendid porcelain service, and the

roast goose was steaming famously with its stuffing of apple and dried

plums. And what was still more capital to behold was, the goose hopped

down from the dish, reeled about on the floor with knife and fork in its

breast, till it came up to the poor little girl; when--the match went

out and nothing but the thick, cold, damp wall was left behind.

She lighted another match. Now there she was sitting under the most

magnificent Christmas tree: it was still larger, and more decorated than

the one which she had seen through the glass door in the rich merchant's

house.

Thousands of lights were burning on the green branches, and

gaily-colored pictures, such as she had seen in the shop-windows, looked

down upon her. The little maiden stretched out her hands towards them

when--the match went out. The lights of the Christmas tree rose higher

and higher, she saw them now as stars in heaven; one fell down and

formed a long trail of fire.

“Someone is just dead!” said the little girl; for her old grandmother,

the only person who had loved her, and who was now no more, had told

her, that when a star falls, a soul ascends to God.

She drew another match against the wall: it was again light, and in the

lustre there stood the old grandmother, so bright and radiant, so mild,

and with such an expression of love.

“Grandmother!” cried the little one. “Oh, take me with you! You go

away when the match burns out; you vanish like the warm stove, like the

delicious roast goose, and like the magnificent Christmas tree!” And

she rubbed the whole bundle of matches quickly against the wall, for

she wanted to be quite sure of keeping her grandmother near her. And

the matches gave such a brilliant light that it was brighter than at

noon-day: never formerly had the grandmother been so beautiful and

so tall. She took the little maiden, on her arm, and both flew in

brightness and in joy so high, so very high, and then above was neither

cold, nor hunger, nor anxiety--they were with God.

But in the corner, at the cold hour of dawn, sat the poor girl, with

rosy cheeks and with a smiling mouth, leaning against the wall--frozen

to death on the last evening of the old year. Stiff and stark sat the

child there with her matches, of which one bundle had been burnt. “She

wanted to warm herself,” people said. No one had the slightest suspicion

of what beautiful things she had seen; no one even dreamed of the

splendor in which, with her grandmother she had entered on the joys of a

new year.