On New Year’s Eve, snow was falling heavily, and it was bitterly cold. Even those wearing coats were shivering in the cold.
A little match-selling girl, dressed in thin clothes, walked down the street. She was barefoot, with no hat, and snowflakes fell on her beautiful golden hair.
She carried matches in her apron, and held a bundle in her hand, trying to sell them to passersby.
But no one paid attention to her. In such freezing weather, everyone just wanted to hurry home, especially since it was New Year’s Eve.
The entire day passed, and she hadn’t sold a single match.
Walking barefoot on the street, her feet felt numb, as if they weren’t her own.
She had originally come out wearing slippers, but they were her mother’s old shoes and too large for her.
While crossing the street, a horse-drawn carriage rushed by, and she had to quickly run out of the way. When she turned back, the slippers were gone.
One slipper was snatched by a mischievous boy who laughed, saying he could use it as a cradle when he had children someday.
Too hungry and weak to continue walking, she crawled along.
She smelled the aroma of roast duck and, through the windows, she saw candles lit in every house, with tables full of rich dinners. She suddenly remembered that tonight was New Year’s Eve.
Finally, she sat down in the corner between two buildings. She curled up, pulling her feet close to her body, but it didn’t help much. She was growing colder and colder.
She didn’t dare go home, knowing her father would beat her for not selling any matches. Besides, it was cold at home too, with cracks everywhere letting the wind in.
Her small hands were nearly frozen. She thought, maybe lighting a match could warm her up.
She took one out and struck it. The match lit up.
The little girl placed her hand above the match, feeling so warm. It was as if she could see herself sitting in front of a fireplace, with flames burning inside, warm and cozy.
Just as the little girl wanted to stretch out her feet to warm them up, the cozy fireplace disappeared, and all she had in her hand was the burnt-out match.
She struck another match.
This time, she saw a table laden with a sumptuous feast—roast duck, various fruits, and more.
Just as she was about to take a bite of the roast duck, the match went out, and all she saw was the cold wall in front of her.
She struck the third match and saw herself sitting under a Christmas tree, taller and more beautiful than any she had ever seen.
Thousands of lights twinkled and danced on the tree. She happily reached out to touch them, but the match went out again, and before her were only the stars in the night sky. She saw a star fall.
“How sad, maybe someone is dying,” the little girl murmured.
Her grandmother, who had passed away, once told her that when a star falls, it means a soul is going to meet God.
She struck another match. This time, she saw her beloved grandmother, the only person in the world who had ever loved her.
Her grandmother looked at her with infinite love and smiled.
The little girl cried out, “Grandmother, don’t leave me! Take me with you! I know you’ll disappear when the match burns out, just like the fireplace, the roast duck, and the Christmas tree.”
In a panic, she struck all the matches at once, fearing her grandmother would vanish.
The flames grew bigger and brighter than before.
She saw her grandmother take her hand and fly up, higher and higher, up to heaven, where there was no hunger, no cold, and no sorrow…
The next day, New Year’s Day, people found a little girl dead in a corner, with a smile on her face. In her hand was a bundle of burnt-out matches, and there were many matchstick ashes on the ground.
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