The Little Candle Girl on the Eyes of Father

The Little Candle Girl on the Eyes of Father
It was terribly cold and rainy on Christmas’s Eve; the snow kept falling fast as people ran home to prepare for their dinners. In that cold and dark night, I sold candles with bared head and naked foot was roaming through the streets to sell her match sticks. There were very few people in the street; most of them were either having a good time at home or were under a shelter. I felt very cold and hungry. Worst still, I also felt tired, because I had not sold a single candle or earned a single penny all day long. Suddenly, I saw my past memories about my slippers, those slippers from my grandmother as a gift of Christmas last year. They were so big but the I had lost them running across the street to avoid two carriages that were rolling toward her.
One of the slippers I could not find, and a strange boy seized the other and ran away. So I kept going with her naked feet, which turned red and blue with the cold. I was crying, but I did not cry about the cold; she cried about the people. No one had bought any candle from me, even gave me a penny. I had carried a lot of candles today, but all of them were still in her little hands. I dared not go home because no candles were sold. My drunken father would certainly hit me. My father, who was driven into wine after my mother’s death, he even dealt drugs . Besides, her house was almost as cold as here; they had only the roof to cover them. She had had mom and kind grandmother, but they no longer were there with her. Her mom had passed away because of cold on her eighth birthday, and her grandmother had gone to heaven because of starvation last year.
Lights were shining from every window, and there was a delicious smell of roast goose for Christmas’s Eve. Her little hands were almost frozen with the cold. Perhaps burning a match could warm her fingers. It gave a warm, bright light, like a little candle, as she held her hand over it. It was really a wonderful light. It gave her warmth that seemed like a large wood stove. “How wonderful it is!” she said in bright smile. Suddenly, the flame of the match went out. The stove vanished, and she had only the remains of the half-burnt match in her hand. She kept rubbing another match on the wall. It burst into a flame, and she could see into a strange room. The table was covered with a white table cloth on which stood variety of dinner dishes and a steaming roast goose from Beijing by talented Chinese chef, stuffed with apples and wine. After that and still more wonderful, the goose jumped down from the dish and ran across the floor with a knife and fork in it to the little girl. Then the match went out, she had nothing but the cold, snowy and rainy weather outside.
She lit another match, there was a sudden sense of warmth, she saw herself laughing and playing with the kids at the Christmas party, opening a beautifully wrapped present under a giant Christmas tree. It was bigger and more beautifully decorated tree than she had ever seen in any shops. While enjoying the Christmas party, the wind suddenly blew the match out. The warmth was gone, the light was gone, the wrapped present was gone, and she was alone in the dark and loneliness.
She walked a little further, but she could not stand the cold anymore. She felt unbearably cold, hungry, and tired, so she sat down on the corner formed by two houses, and she looked up the sky. She saw a star falling down. “If you see a star falling down, a soul is going to heaven,” she said. She thought about her grandmother, who was now no longer with her, who had passed away last year because of starvation. She again lit a match against the wall; in the brightness stood her old grandmother, clear and shining. “Grandmother,” she cried, “Please let me go with you; I know you will no longer be here when the match burns out. You will disappear like the warm stove, the roast goose, and the big Christmas-tree”, she kept crying. She took out her whole bundle of matches and lit one, touching it to another, starting a chain reaction. Soon all of the matches were burning. She wished to keep her grandmother there for a little more. The matches glowed with a light that was brighter than the sun, and her grandmother had never appeared so large, beautiful, or glorious like this time.
“Do you want to go with me, my dear?” her grandmother said. Then she took the little girl in her arms, and they both flew upwards in brightness and joy far above the Earth, where they do not need to worry about the cold, hunger, or pain. Their souls were going up to Heaven. Now, they were with God.
In the dawn of the morning, people found her body on the corner of the street formed by two houses with pale cheeks and smiling mouth. The sun rose and shone upon her body. “Look, that little girl died of cold and hunger” someone said. The child still sat there, holding the matches in her hands, one bundle of which was burnt She had been frozen on the Christmas’s Eve. .
“She tried to warm herself,” someone said. No one imagined what beautiful things she had seen last night or what glory she had entered with her grandmother. The little match girl would no longer suffer the bitterness of cold and hunger. On Christmas day, one angel was born.