Little Match Girl

The short story “The Little Match Girl” is all about the poverty, hunger and helplessness ... It was so terribly cold. Snow was falling, and it was almost dark. Evening came on, the last evening of the year. In the cold and gloom a poor little girl, bareheaded and barefoot, was walking through the streets. Of course when she had left her house she'd had slippers on, but what good had they been? They were very big slippers, way too big for her, for they belonged to her mother. The little girl had lost them running across the road, where two carriages had rattled by terribly fast. One slipper she'd not been able to find again, and a boy had run off with the other, saying he could use it very well as a cradle some day when he had children of his own. And so the little girl walked on her naked feet, which were quite red and blue with the cold. In an old apron she carried several packages of matches, and she held a box of them in her hand. No one had bought any from her all day long, and no one had given her a cent. Shivering with cold and hunger, she crept along, a picture of misery, poor little girl! The snowflakes fell on her long fair hair, which hung in pretty curls over her neck. In all the windows lights were shining, and there was a wonderful smell of roast goose, for it was New Year's eve. Yes, she thought of that! In a corner formed by two houses, one of which projected farther out into the street than the other, she sat down and drew up her little feet under her. She was getting colder and colder, but did not dare to go home, for she had sold no matches, nor earned a single cent, and her father would surely beat her. Besides, it was cold at home, for they had nothing over them but a roof through which the wind whistled even though the biggest cracks had been stuffed with straw and rags. Her hands were almost dead with cold. Oh, how much one little match might warm her! If she could only take one from the box and rub it against the wall and warm her hands. She drew one out. R-r-ratch! How it sputtered and burned! It made a warm, bright flame, like a little candle, as she held her hands over it; but it gave a strange light! It really seemed to the little girl as if she were sitting before a great iron stove with shining brass knobs and a brass cover. How wonderfully the fire burned! How comfortable it was! The youngster stretched out her feet to warm them too; then the little flame went out, the stove vanished, and she had only the remains of the burnt match in her hand. She struck another match against the wall. It burned brightly, and when the light fell upon the wall it became transparent like a thin veil, and she could see through it into a room. On the table a snow-white cloth was spread, and on it stood a shining dinner service. The roast goose steamed gloriously, stuffed with apples and prunes. And what was still better, the goose jumped down from the dish and waddled along the floor with a knife and fork in its breast, right over to the little girl. Then the match went out, and she could see only the thick, cold wall. She lighted another match. Then she was sitting under the most beautiful Christmas tree. It was much larger and much more beautiful than the one she had seen last Christmas through the glass door at the rich merchant's home. Thousands of candles burned on the green branches, and colored pictures like those in the printshops looked down at her. The little girl reached both her hands toward them. Then the match went out. But the Christmas lights mounted higher. She saw them now as bright stars in the sky. One of them fell down, forming a long line of fire. "Now someone is dying," thought the little girl, for her old grandmother, the only person who had loved her, and who was now dead, had told her that when a star fell down a soul went up to God. She rubbed another match against the wall. It became bright again, and in the glow the old grandmother stood clear and shining, kind and lovely. "Grandmother!" cried the child. "Oh, take me with you! I know you will disappear when the match is burned out. You will vanish like the warm stove, the wonderful roast goose and the beautiful big Christmas tree!" And she quickly struck the whole bundle of matches, for she wished to keep her grandmother with her. And the matches burned with such a glow that it became brighter than daylight. Grandmother had never been so grand and beautiful. She took the little girl in her arms, and both of them flew in brightness and joy above the earth, very, very high, and up there was neither cold, nor hunger, nor fear-they were with God. But in the corner, leaning against the wall, sat the little girl with red cheeks and smiling mouth, frozen to death on the last evening of the old year. The New Year's sun rose upon a little pathetic figure. The child sat there, stiff and cold, holding the matches, of which one bundle was almost burned. "She wanted to warm herself," the people said. No one imagined what beautiful things she had seen, and how happily she had gone with her old grandmother into the bright New Year. This Janet and Anne Grahame Johnstone illustration photo was salvaged from the 1977 book Dean's "A Book of Fairy Tales." "The Little Match Girl" | Emotional Story for Kids | "The Little Match Girl" is a short story by Danish poet and author Hans Christian Andersen. The story, about a dying child's dreams and hope, was first published in 1845. It has been adapted to various media, including animated and live-action films, television musicals, and video games. Wikipedia Thanks For Visiting

The Stranger Child

BY COUNT FRANZ POCCI [TRANSLATED] There once lived a laborer who earned his daily bread by cutting wood. His wife and two children, a boy and girl, helped him with his work. The boy's name was Valentine, and the girl's name was Marie. They were obedient and pious and the joy and comfort of their poor parents. One winter evening, this good family gathered about the table to eat their small loaf of bread, while the father read aloud from the Bible. Just as they sat down there came a knock on the window, and a sweet voice called: "O let me in! I am a little child, and I have nothing to eat, and no place to sleep in. I am so cold and hungry! Please, good people, let me in!" Valentine and Marie sprang from the table and ran to open the door, saying: "Come in, poor child, we have but very little ourselves, not much more than thou hast, but what we have we will share with thee." The stranger Child entered, and going to the fire began to warm his cold hands. The children gave him a portion of their bread, and said: "Thou must be very tired; come, lie down in our bed, and we will sleep on the bench here before the fire." Then answered the stranger Child: "May God in Heaven reward you for your kindness." They led the little guest to their small room, laid him in their bed, and covered him closely, thinking to themselves: "Oh! how much we have to be thankful for! We have our nice warm room and comfortable bed, while this Child has nothing but the sky for a roof, and the earth for a couch." When the parents went to their bed, Valentine and Marie lay down on the bench before the fire, and said one to the other: "The stranger Child is happy now, because he is so warm! Good-night!" Then they fell asleep.  They had not slept many hours, when little Marie awoke, and touching her brother lightly, whispered: "Valentine, Valentine, wake up! wake up! Listen to the beautiful music at the window." Valentine rubbed his eyes and listened. He heard the most wonderful singing and the sweet notes of many harps. "Blessed Child, Thee we greet, With sound of harp And singing sweet. "Sleep in peace, Child so bright, We have watched thee All the night. "Blest the home That holdeth Thee, Peace, and love, Its guardians be." The children listened to the beautiful singing, and it seemed to fill them with unspeakable happiness. Then creeping to the window they looked out. They saw a rosy light in the east, and, before the house in the snow, stood a number of little children holding golden harps and lutes in their hands, and dressed in sparkling, silver robes. Full of wonder at this sight, Valentine and Marie continued to gaze out at the window, when they heard a sound behind them, and turning saw the stranger Child standing near. He was clad in a golden garment, and wore a glistening, golden crown upon his soft hair. Sweetly he spoke to the children: "I am the Christ Child, who wanders about the world seeking to bring joy and good things to loving children. Because you have lodged me this night I will leave with you my blessing." As the Christ Child spoke He stepped from the door, and breaking off a bough from a fir tree that grew near, planted it in the ground, saying: -- "This bough shall grow into a tree, and every year it shall bear Christmas fruit for you." Having said this He vanished from their sight, together with the silver-clad, singing children -- the angels. And, as Valentine and Marie looked on in wonder, the fir bough grew, and grew, and grew, into a stately Christmas Tree laden with golden apples, silver nuts, and lovely toys. And after that, every year at Christmas time, the Tree bore the same wonderful fruit. And you, dear boys and girls, when you gather around your richly decorated trees, think of the two poor children who shared their bread with a stranger child, and be thankful. Thanks For Visiting

Christmas Superstitions

A Yule Log must not be bought and must be kept burning all night. Christmas candles should be left burning until Christmas morning and should rest undisturbed from time of lighting until they are snuffed. Look to the shadows cast by those gathered round the fire on Christmas night -- if any of these shades appears to lack a head that person will die within the year. Difficulty lighting the fire on Christmas Day is particularly unwelcome, as this predicts a bad year ahead. Christmas cakes were usually eaten on Christmas Eve in the 19th century, though it was deemed most unlucky to cut into one (or any Christmas food) before that day dawned. A portion also had to be preserved until Christmas Day itself. As many mince pies as you sample at different houses during the festive season, so you will have happy months in the year to come. Mince pies must not be cut, however, lest you cut your luck. None must be eaten before Christmas Eve nor after Twelfth Night. If Christmas pudding is on the menu, then all present must take part in stirring it if the household is to prosper. Traditionally, one has to stir the mixture at least three times, seeing the bottom of the pot each time. Even tiny babies take their turn, with parents guiding a little one's hand on the spoon. Unmarried girls who forget to give the pudding its requisite stirs might as well forget about finding a husband in the upcoming year. It's customary to make a wish while stirring Christmas pudding. Such wishes are kept secret until they come true - to speak them to anyone else jinxes them. When making Christmas pudding, drop into a silver coin, a thimble, and a ring. He who is served the coin finds luck, he who retrieves the thimble brings himself prosperity, and he who comes up with the ring hastens a wedding in his family. To find out who your future spouse will be, make a dumb cake at midnight on Christmas Eve. It is prepared in complete silence by one or more, with water, eggs, and salt is placed on the hearthstone with the upper surface of the cake pricked with the initials of one of those present. Provided the silence is unbroken, the future partner of the person indicated on the cake will appear and similarly prick his or her initials onto the cake. In some regions it is instead stipulated that a petitioner must walk backwards to their beds after eating the cooked cake, there to dream of her future spouse. The doors of a home used to be flung open at midnight on Christmas Eve to let out any trapped evil spirits. A Christmas candle left burning in the window all night guarantees the household's good luck in the coming year. If the candles goes out, it is bad luck. The first member of the household to open the door on Christmas morning might well shout, Welcome, Old Father Christmas! to the empty street. In other homes, one might be expected to sweep the threshold with a broom to clear it of trouble. Particularly good fortune will attach to the household if the first visitor on Christmas happens to be a dark-haired man. Thanks For Visiting

A Christmas Wish

I snuggled down into the quilt And held my teddy bear tight. I shut my eyes and tried to sleep On that wondrous Christmas night. I wanted to see Santa Claus When he came into my house. I laid as still as still could be; Becoming quiet as a mouse. I left a note on the window sill; I printed it nice and clear; It meant so very much to me Telling Santa my wish that year. My wish was a very simple one; It was Santa I wanted to see; I wanted to watch as he put our gifts Under the Christmas tree. I heard the reindeer on the roof And Santa's " HO, HO, HO". Quietly leaving my warm safe bed; Down the stairs we two did go. Yes, I got my wish by seeing him; It made my heart so glad; But it was a bit surprising For he looked just like my Dad!  Toni Britton The Calico's Mom October 21, 2001

Thanks For Visiting

Jiminy Cricket Narration

May you Always Hold Christmas as a Child in your Memories and in your Heart

The Christmas Wait

Twas the night before Christmas; My sister and I Were snug in our bed, With the quilts pulled up high.  We made an agreement That very same day, Wanting to see Santa; Awake we would stay. Old Mr. Teddy Bear To keep us from harm; Marmalade, our sweet kitten Would keep us both warm.  "Are you awake"? I asked with a yawn. "Yes, of course", she replied "I will stay up till dawn!"  We never will know What happened that night, For when we got up, It was already light.  And Santa had been there; Now how could that be? We both were awake At a quarter to three.  We only just closed Our eyes just to rest, For the Sandman had come; A most unwanted guest.  And sprinkled the grains In our eyes, so you see, We simply had to close them; And then he did flee.  I'm sure he told Santa Its safe, their asleep; That's when Santa came in And right by us did creep.  Next year will be different; We'll sit by the fire instead And wait up for Santa; We  won't go to bed!

Image Artist : Donna Green - Limited Edition Print -The Night Before Christmas

Thanks For Visiting