 |
|
||||||||
|
|
|||||||||
|
The Little Match Girl by 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. |
