
Little match girl
This post is my interpretation of one of my favourite Christmas stories “The little match girl ” it was written by Hans Christian Anderson. I have always loved the story and so I have put it in to my favourite medium, verse.
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It had been so very cold that today, all the children were out snowballing and sliding on their slays. Happy children healthy children in the snow at play when they saw the bare foot child watching they cruelly shooed her away.
She had been out since 6am, when she had left home she had put on her woollen shawl over her dress with the ragged hem.Her mother had lent her her clogs but they were to big and as she was scuttling along through the snow they fell from her feet and got stolen by some dogs.
She had an apron full of matches and some bundles in her hand she had to sell them all but today there had been no demand. Try as she may she had not sold a single box all day. Looking wistfully at the other children, she so longed to play.
The weather had been bitter when she left that morning struggling through the day she was even colder now as the temperatures were falling. The sun had been gone for a while now and as the clouds revealed the moon she she said a silent prayer for some to come and buy her matches soon.

Huddling into the wall for warmth
As she crossed the road she spied a street lamp down the ally on the corner the yellow light look inviting she hoped that it might warm her. Pressing herself against into a corner wall in hopes of getting heat she was so cold from the top of her head right down to her tiny feet.
In despair she lit a match she watch the flame begin to catch. feeling the short lived heat just made her,want to her action repeat.No longer fearing her father’s anger she lit match after match and as she did as if in a dream, of her wishes and hopes a glimpse she’d catch.
The first one showed her a happy home with mother and father and children, no one alone. All happily at a brimming table with food to eat as much as they were able. Reaching out to take some food the flame went out and she was back in the ally crude.

all the food you could eat.
With out a second to waste she lit another match in haste . This she was in a warm living room with Christmas tree and presents. Then Just like before the went out she wanted to cry …. and did no doubt.
Taking out another match she desperately wanted another seen to catch . The magic of the match did to her delight show sun kissed field a picnic and she and her brothers playing with a kite.
OH! no she only had one match left her father would be be mad and yes she knew that to be true , no money and no matches either what on earth was she to do?

what a lovely tree
There was really nothing for it though she did fear the anger of her father. Trying to rise, her feet she could not feel nor her legs, she could move no further. She was so cold and tired and now the last match had expired.
So cold was she that she fell into a deep deep sleep, a sleep that put her into the good Lord God’s keep. In the last dreams of her little and unhappy life she saw approaching her Nan and her heart took flight. For Nan had been dead these last two years but in her dying heart she felt no fear. For she was now safe as nan was here. Nan took here up into her arms her loving voice worked as a balm to sooth her pain and make her warm and lets rejoice for she is now out of harm!

Safe in grandma's arms.