The LIttle Match Girl

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Episode Transcript

Speaker 1 (00:00):
The little match girl. It was dreadfully cold, It was
snowing fast, and it was almost dark as evening came
on the last evening of the year. In the cold,
in the darkness, there went along the street a poor
little girl, bare headed and with naked feet. When she
left home she had slippers on, it is true, but

(00:22):
they were much too large for her feet, slippers that
her mother had used until then, and the poor little
girl lost them in running across the street when two
carriages were passing terribly fast. When she looked for them,
one of them was not to be found, and a
boy seized the other and ran away with it, saying
he would use it for a cradle some day when

(00:42):
he had children of his own. So on the little
girl went with her bare feet that were red and
blue with cold. In an old apron. That she wore
were bundles of matches, and she carried a bundle also
in her hand. No one had bought so much as
a bunch all the long day, and no one had
given her even a penny. Poor little girl, shivering with

(01:07):
cold and hunger, she crept along a perfect picture of misery.
Snowflakes fell on her long flaxen hair, which hung in
pretty curls about her throat. She thought not of her beauty,
nor of the cold. Lights gleamed in every window, and
there came to her the savory smell of roast goose.
For it was New Year's Eve, and it was of

(01:30):
this which she thought. In a corner formed by two houses,
one of which projected beyond the other, she sat, cowering
down she had drawn under her little feet. But still
she grew colder and colder. Yet she dared not go home,
for she had sold no matches and could not bring
a penny of money. Her father would certainly beat her.

(01:54):
And besides, it was cold enough at home, for they
had only the house roof above them, and the largest
holes had been stopped with strawn rags. There were left
many through which the cold wind whistled. And now her
little hands were nearly frozen with cold. Alas, a single
match might do her good, if she might only draw

(02:15):
it from the bundle, rub it against the wall, and
warm her fingers by it. So at last she drew
one out. Sh how it blazed and burned. It gave
out a warm, bright flame like a little candle. As
she held her hands over it. A wonderful little light
it was. It really seemed to the little girl as
if she sat before a great iron stove with polished

(02:37):
brass feet and a brass shovel and tongs. So blessedly
it burned that the little maiden stretched out her feet
to warm them. Also, how comfortable she was. But lo,
the flame went out, the stove vanished, and nothing remained
but the little burned match in her hand. She rubbed

(02:58):
another match against the wall. It burned brightly, and where
the light fell upon the wall, it became transparent, like
a veil, so she could see through it into the room.
A snow white cloth was spread upon the table, on
which was a beautiful china dinner service, while a roast
goose stuffed with apples and prunes steamed famously and sent

(03:21):
forth the most savory smell. And what was more delightful
still and wonderful, the goose jumped from the dish, with
knife and fork still in its breast, and waddled along
the floor straight to the little girl. But the match
went out then, and nothing was left to her but
the thick, damp wall. She lighted another match, and now

(03:45):
she was under a most beautiful Christmas tree, larger and
far more prettily trimmed than the one she had seen
through the glass door at the rich merchant's. Hundreds of
wax tapers were burning on the green branches, and gay
figures such as she had seen in the shop windows,
looked down upon her. The child stretched out her hands
to them, and then the match went out. Still, the

(04:08):
lights of the Christmas tree rose higher and higher. She
saw them as stairs in heaven, and one of them fell,
forming a long trail of fire. Now some one is dying,
murmured the child softly. For her grandmother, the only person
who had loved her and who was now dead, had
told her that whenever a star falls, a soul mounts

(04:29):
up to God. She struck yet another match against the wall,
and again it was light, and in the brightness there
appeared before her the dear old grandmother, bright and radiant,
yet sweet and mild and happy as she had never
looked on earth. Oh, grandmother, cried the child, Take me

(04:50):
with you. I know you will go away. When the
match burns out, you too will vanish like the warm stove.
The splendid New Year's Feast, and the beautiful Christmas tree,
and lest her grandmother should disappear, she rubbed the whole
bundle of matches against the wall, and the matches burned
with such a brilliant light that it became brighter than noonday.

(05:11):
Her grandmother had never looked so grand and beautiful. She
took the little girl in her arms, and both flew together,
joyously and gloriously, mounting higher and higher, far above the earth.
And for them there was neither hunger, nor cold, nor care.

(05:32):
They were with God. But in the corner at the
dawn of the day sat the poor girl, leaning against
the wall, with red cheeks and smiling mouth, frozen to
death on the last evening of the old year. Stiff
and cold, she sat with the matches, one bundle of

(05:53):
which was burned. She wanted to warm herself, poor little thing.
People said no. No one imagined what sweet visions she had had,
or how gloriously she had gone with her grandmother to
enter upon the joys of a new year. End of

(06:14):
the little match girl