Story of the day – The Little Match Girl (Hans Christian Andersen)

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.

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12 Responses to Story of the day – The Little Match Girl (Hans Christian Andersen)

  1. Menagerie says:

    Oh, I remember this story from last year. You have found some wonderful tales for us Stella. Best, ones that make us ponder.

    Liked by 3 people

    • stella says:

      Thanks, Menage! This one is a bit dark, as are many of his stories.

      Liked by 1 person

      • It brings tears to my eyes every time I read it, but in the end even though she had a miserable existence, she went to the warmth and light of God with her grandmother. My grandmother was the best influence on me as a child* and I miss her greatly. I pray God is so merciful that when my time comes, I am able to be greeted by her into Heaven.

        *My religious teacher preparing me for First Communion was also a lovely woman, telling us of how great God’s love for us is, and how God is in Holy Communion where we receive Him and His love. I wanted that so badly, and to this day remember what great joy it was to have my 1st Communion – all that love I get to have! I felt sparkles like little stars flow down over my whole body right there at the alter rail when I received Communion.
        God is love. In the end it is a choice between love and God, or hate and eternal misery.

        Liked by 2 people

  2. tblakney says:

    That story has really shook me up!!!

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Linda K. says:

    I know! I immediately started wondering how anyone could pass by a child in that weather and condition and not help her.

    Liked by 1 person

  4. tblakney says:

    Linda K.,
    That is exactly what shook me up so badly, it breaks my heart for anybody to be in a hard luck situation but when it comes to children it’s twice as emotional for me!!

    Liked by 1 person

  5. hoosiertruthfan says:

    This was my favorite story as a child, probably because I loved my grandmother so deeply. She was a huge part of my life, my rock, and I was blessed to spend every summer with her for 11 years. It was pure heaven.
    I would plead for her to tell me this story and when we got older, she shared it had been a difficult thing for her as I bawled every time she told it to me. It broke her heart a little each time to see me cry that hard.

    Thank you, Stella, it made my day to see this. I have a few tears of gratitude for the memories this evoked.

    Liked by 2 people

    • stella says:

      My daughter, like you, spent every summer with her grandmother for quite a few years. They had a very special bond, so I understand! My own grandmothers died before I was born, so I never had that experience and always envied it.

      Liked by 2 people

      • hoosiertruthfan says:

        How wonderful for your daughter! I hear of so few lucky grandchildren that have the experience.
        It permanently shifted my values, in the best possible way. And it curried a lifelong love of Big Band music. It just doesn’t get better than that.

        Liked by 2 people

      • Menagerie says:

        I didn’t spend much time with grandparents, and I would love to have had more. We got to see my dad’s parents one week in the summer, with almost all my cousins there. It was always a great time.

        I keep in mind a lot of your stories of your mom and your daughter as I navigate being a grandmother to eight. I lose patience with them too much sometimes, but I really want to love them and help them learn, grow, and discover the wonderful people they are. I hope to help them develop self confidence, and being comfortable with who they are.

        Liked by 1 person

        • stella says:

          I think my mother was a much better grandmother than mother. I’m not saying she was a bad mother – far from it – but she put her full attention into being a gram. As my daughter said, her grandmother made her feel like the most important person in the world. I think that grams can give their grandchildren the kind of attention and mostly uncritical approval that might not be good for their children.


  6. tblakney says:

    As a Granddad I know that I am better as a grandparent than I was a parent. I love my daughters but I didn’t know then what I know now. When they confront me about the skills that I have as a granddaddy I apologize and say “ you live and learn!! LOL


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