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. First posted Dec 2011
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It had been so very cold for days,
All the children were out playing on their slays.
Happy children healthy children in the snow at play
When they saw the bare foot child watching they simply looked away.
She had been out since 6am,
In her woollen shawl over her dress with the ragged hem.
Her mother had lent her, her clogs
but they were to big and had been 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 said a silent prayer for someone to come and buy her matches soon.
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 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.
Without a second to waste she lit another match in haste .
This time she was in a warm living room with Christmas tree and presents.
Then Just like before the match died, she cried.
Taking out another match
She desperately wanted another scene to catch .
The magic of the match did her delight
A sun kissed sky where she watched a soaring a kite.
OH! no she only had one match left
What was she to do.
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 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 that 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 Nana’s arms.
This is an excerpt from a version of the the Nativity story, that I wrote all through December 2011. It started here 
