It was horribly cold. It was snowing and the night was starting to hang down.
It's the last night of the year — New Year's Eve. In such cold and darkness, there was a little girl with a bald head and bare feet walking down the street. Yes, she left the house wearing a pair of slippers, but what's the use? It was a very big pair of slippers—so big that her mother had been wearing them lately. As she hurried across the street, two carriages sped over, causing the little girl to run off her shoes. One she couldn't find, and the other was picked up by a boy and escaped. He also said that when he has children in the future, he can use it as a cradle.
Now the little girl had to walk barefoot. The little feet were already frozen red and blue. She had many matches wrapped in an old apron; she still had a tie in her hand. No one had bought her a single one throughout the day; no one had given her a copper plate.
Poor little girl! She walked forward hungry and frozen, a melancholy picture, and the snowflakes fell on her long golden hair—it curled up on her shoulders and looked very beautiful, but she didn't think of her own beauty. All the windows were glowing, and the street was filled with the smell of roast goose meat (1). Indeed, this is Chinese New Year's Eve. She was thinking about it.
She sat down in a corner of the two houses, one of which stretched out a little more into the center of the street than the other—forming a corner. She retracted one of her little feet, but she felt colder.
She did not dare to go back to the house, because she did not sell a match, did not earn a copper plate, her father would definitely beat her, and the house was very cold. There was only one roof over their heads, and the wind could pour in from there, though the largest crack had been plugged with grass and rags.
One of her small hands was almost frozen. alas! Even a small match would be good for her. As long as she dares to pull out one and burn it on the wall, she can warm her hands! Finally she pulled out one. taste! It's burning, it's coming out! When she put her hand on it, it became a warm, bright flame, like a small candle. It's a beautiful little light! The little girl felt like she was sitting next to an iron stove: it had shiny brass round pinch hands and a brass stove. The fire is so happy, so warm, so beautiful! Alas, what's going on here? When the little girl had just stretched out one of her feet and was about to warm them up, the flames suddenly went out! The stove was gone, too. She sat there with only burned matches in her hands.
She wiped another one. It burned and glowed. There is a bright light on the wall,
Now it became transparent, like a tulle; she could see what was in the room: the table was covered with snow-white tablecloths with delicate dishes, filled with plums and apples, and the fragrant roast goose. The more wonderful thing is this: this goose jumped out of the plate, it had a knife and fork in its back, and it staggered on the ground.
All the way to this poor little girl. Then the matches were extinguished; there was only a thick and cold wall in front of her.
She lit another match. Now she was sitting under the beautiful Christmas tree. It was bigger and more beautiful than the one she had seen through the glass door of a rich merchant last Christmas. There were thousands of candles burning on its green branches; colorful drawings, as beautiful as those hanging in the window, were shining at her eyes. The little girl held out both of her hands, but the match went out. The Christmas candlelight rose higher and higher, and she saw that they were now bright stars. One of these stars fell, creating a long red light in the sky.
(1) Roast goose meat is a main dish in Danish Christmas and Chinese New Year's Eve dinners.
"Now another man has died (1)," said the little girl, because her old grandmother—the only one who was good to her, but now dead—had said: "A star has fallen from the heavens, and a soul on earth has ascended to God."
She wiped another match on the wall. It illuminated all sides; in this light the old grandmother appeared. She seemed so bright, so gentle, so kind.
"Grandmother!" The little girl cried out. "Ah! Please take me away! I know that as soon as this match is extinguished, you will be gone, and you will be gone like that warm stove, that beautiful roast goose, that happy Christmas tree! ”
So she hurriedly polished the rest of the matches in the whole bunch, because she desperately wanted to keep her grandmother. These matches glow intensely, illuminating brighter than daylight. Grandmother had never been as beautiful and tall as she is now. She picked up the little girl and took her into her arms. The two of them flew away in light and joy, higher and higher, to a place where there was neither cold nor hunger nor sorrow—they were with God.
But on a cold morning, the little girl sat in a corner; her cheeks were flushed.
With a smile on her lips, she was dead—frozen to death in the old Chinese New Year's Eve. The sun rises in the New Year,
Look at her little corpse! She was sitting there, with a match in her hand—one of them was almost burned out.
"She wanted to warm herself up," people said. No one knows how beautiful things she once saw, how happy she once walked with her grandmother to the happiness of the New Year.
(1) The superstition of the Norse people: there is a person in the world, and there is a star in the sky. The fall of a star symbolizes the death of a person.