Here you have the story of her, but sorry for the incredibly bad translation. I used Google translate but I'll fix it up the best I can. It's a beautiful story and it's readable. Enjoy H.C Andersens story! And be warned, It's an old story and it has elder laguage type. ^.^
The little match girl wrote:It was so terribly cold, it snowed and the evenings started t get darker, it was also the last night of the year , New Year's Eve . In the cold and the darkness walked a little girl with bare head and bare feet. Yes, she 'd had slippers when she left home , but what good did it! There were very large slippers , her mother had last used them, so large were they , and they dropped the little one, as she hurried across the street, just as two cars drove past at great speed . One slipper she could not find and the other took a little boy, he said , that he could use it as a cradle when he himself had children .
There was now the little girl on her bare little feet , which was red and blue with the cold. In an old apron she carried a lot of matches and a bundle , she joined in the hand. No one had bought anything rom her for the whole day, no one had given her money , hungry and frozen, she went and looked so pitiful, the poor thing! The snowflakes fell on her long yellow hair, which curled so beautifully in the neck, but she thought, certainly not on the curls. In all the windows the candles where lit, and it smelled so wonderfully on the streets by goose steak. it was New Year's Eve , yes, she was aware of that.
Over in a corner between two houses, one pushed forward a little longer on the street than the other, where she sat and cringed . The small legs, she pulled up under herself, but she froze even more, and she dared not go home, for she had not sold any of matches, not received a single penny, her father would beat her, and cold be it at home, too, they had only the roof right over them, and the wind blew right through, although they had stopped straw and rags in the biggest holes. Her little hands were almost completely dead with cold. Oh, a little match would do good. If she only dared to pull one out of the stack, pull it along the wall and warm her fingers with it. She pulled out and "ritsch"! what it crackled, how it burned! It was a warm, bright flame, like a little candle, as she held her hand around it. It was a strange light, the little girl thought she sat before a large iron stove with shining brass beads and brass valves. The fire burned so beautiful, warmed so nice. No, what was it! - She had reached out to her feet to warm them too - then the flame extinguished. The tiled stove vanished - she sat with a small stump of the sulfur burned match in her hand.
She struck a new one, it burned, it shone, and where the light fell on the wall of the house, it became transparent like a veil. She looked straight into the room where the table was set with a shiny white cloth, with fine china and beautiful steamed the roast goose, stuffed with prunes and apples and what was still better , the goose jumped from the plate, toddled across the floor with knife and fork in the back, straight ahead to the poor girl. Then the match went out , and there was nothing else to see than the thick, cold wall.
She lit another. Then she sat under a radiant Christmas tree, it was still larger and finer dressed than the one she had seen through the glass door at the rich merchant now in Christmas times. Thousands of candles burned on the green branches, and she saw variegated images, similar to those which adorn the shop windows. The little stretched both hands up in the air - then the match went out, the many Christmas lights rose higher and higher, she saw that they were now the clear stars, one of them fell and made a long fire trail in the sky.
"Now theres a person who dies! " said the little girl to he old grandmother, who was the only one who had been kind to her, but was now dead , had said : - " When a star falls , a soul rises up to see God."
Once again she stroked a sulfur stick against the wall, it shone round about, and into the light stood the old grandmother, so clear, so brilliant, so blessed mild.
"Grandma ! " cried the little one. "Oh, take me with you, I know you 're away when the match burns out, gone like the warm stove, the wonderful roast goose, and the large, glorious Christmas tree!"
And in a hurry , she stressed on fire all the sticks that were left in the stack , she really wanted to keep the grandmother, and the matches shone with a glory so that it was lighter than at the sun. Grandmother had never been so beautiful, so great; she lifted the little girl up on her arm, and they flew into brightness and joy so high, so high. And there was no cold, no hunger, no anxiety - they were in heaven.
But in the corner of the house sat in the cold morning hour the little girl with red cheeks, a smile around her mouth - dead, frozen to death on the last evening of the old year. New Year's morning went up over the little girl, who sat with matchsticks, one of the bundles was almost burned. She wanted to warm herself, they said. Nobody knew how very beautiful she had seen, in which the shine she old grandmother had gone into the New Year joy.
