The little girl stretched forth both
hands toward them; then the match went out.
The Christmas lights went higher and higher.
She saw that now they were stars in the sky: one
of them fell and made a long line of fire.
``Now some one is dying,'' said the little girl,
for her old grandmother, the only person who had
been good to her, but who was now dead, had said:
``When a star falls a soul mounts up to God.''
She rubbed another match against the wall; it
became bright again, and in the light there stood
the old grandmother clear and shining, mild and
lovely.
``Grandmother!'' cried the child. ``Oh, take
me with you! I know you will go when the match
is burned out. You will go away like the warm
stove, the nice roast goose, and the great glorious
Christmas tree!''
And she hastily rubbed the whole bundle of
matches, for she wished to hold her grandmother
fast. And the matches burned with such a glow
that it became brighter than in the middle of the
day; grandmother had never been so large or so
beautiful. She took the little girl up in her arms,
and both flew in the light and the joy so high, so
high! and up there was no cold, nor hunger, nor
care--they were with God.
But in the corner by the house sat the little
girl, with red cheeks and smiling mouth, frozen to
death on the last evening of the Old Year.
Pages:
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33