It was the last night of the year. It had snowed, and it was very cold outside. Now it was nearly dark. In the cold and dark walked a poor little girl. She had no and shoes. When she left home, she had shoes. They were very large. They had been her mother's. But she had run across the street to avoid a fast horse. The shoes were so big, they fell off as she ran. Another child had found one shoe. He ran off with it. She couldn't find the other. So the little girl walked on with her tiny, naked feet. They were quite red and numb from cold. The girl had many matches. She sold them for money. She kept most of them in an old apron. She held a bundle of them in her hand so people could see. But nobody had bought any from her the whole day. No one had given her a single cent. And now she was hungry. She had no money for food. She couldn't stay warm. Her body shook as she walked along. The flakes of snow covered her long, fair hair. It fell in lovely curls around her neck. But she didn't feel pretty. Right now she felt alone. She passed many houses. Candles shone in all the windows. And the air smelled of roast goose. It was New Year's Eve. People were celebrating. They were all happy, but she was not. She found a corner made by two houses. She sat down and tried to keep out of the wind. She drew her feet up close to her. But she could not keep them warm. Her whole body grew colder. But she couldn't go home. She had not sold any matches today. She had no money to bring to her family. Her father would be angry. And it was cold at home, too. In her room, the wind whistled. The roof had large cracks. They were stopped with straw and rags. But the cold came in just the same. Her little hands were almost numb with cold. She had a thought. A match might bring her some comfort. If she only dared take one out of the bundle. She could draw it against the wall. It would light. She could warm her fingers by it. She took one out. She lit it. How it blazed, how it burned! It was a warm, bright flame. It looked like a candle. She held her hands over it. It felt wonderful. It seemed to the little girl as if she were sitting before a large fire. She stretched out her feet to warm them, too. But the small flame went out. The fire was gone. She had only the remains of the burnt-out match in her hand. She rubbed another one against the wall. It burned as brightly as the first. The light fell on the wall. She thought she could see into the room beyond.