When she left home she had slippers. They were very large slippers, which her mother had worn. Poor little thing lost them as she scuffled away across the street, because of two carriages that rolled by dreadfully fast.
So she walked her feet red and blue from cold. She carried matches but nobody had bought any from her the whole day; no one had given her a single nickel. She crept along trembling with cold and hunger.
Her little hands were numbed with cold. She only dared take a single match one out of the bundle, draw it against the wall, and warm her fingers by it. "Rischt It was a bright flame, she held her hands over it.
She rubbed another against the wall: where the light fell on the wall, there the wall became transparent so that she could see a feast. A goose hopped from the table and came up to the girl; when--the match went out all to be seen was the thick damp wall.
The lights of the Christmas tree became stars. One fell down and formed a long trail of fire.
"Someone is just dead!" said the little girl; for her grandmother had told her, that when a star falls, a soul ascends to God.
She drew another match against the wall: in the lights glow stood her grandmother looking at her with love.
"Grandmother! Oh, take me with you! Don’t go away when the match burns out; like the stove, the goose, and the Christmas tree!" She quickly lit whole bundle of matches to be sure her grandmother stayed near her.