The Little Match Girt 卖火柴的小女孩

once upon a time a little girl tried to make a living by selling matches in the street.
the snow-clad streets were deserted. from brightly lit windows came the tinkle of laughter and the sound of singing. but the poor little match seller sat sadly beside the fountain. her ragged dress and worn shawl did not keep out the cold. she hadn't sold one box of matches all day and she was frightened to go home, for her father would certainly be angry.
the little girl's fingers were stiff with cold. if only she could light a match! but what would her father say at such a waste! falteringly she took out a match and lit it. what a nice warm flame! the little match seller cupped her hand over it, and as she did so, she magically saw in its light a big brightly burning stove.
she held out her hands to the heat, but just then the match went out and the vision faded. the night seemed darker than before and it was getting colder.
after hesitating for a long time, she struck another match on the wall, and this time the glimmer turned the wall into a great sheet of crystal. beyond that stood a fine table laden with food and lit by a candlestick. holding out her arms towards the plates, the little match seller seemed to pass through the glass, but then the match went out and the magic faded.
she lit the third match and an even more wonderful thing happened. there stood a christmas tree hung with hundreds of candles, glittering with tinsel and colored balls. "oh, how lovely!" exclaimed the little match seller, holding up the match. then, the match burned her finger and flickered out.

scarcely aware of what she was doing, the little match seller lit another match. this time, she saw her grandmother. "granny, stay with me!" she pleaded, as she lit one match after the other, so that her grandmother would not disappear like all the other visions.
however, granny did not vanish, but gazed smilingly at her. then she opened her arms and the little girl hugged her crying: "granny, take me away with you!"
a cold day dawned and a pale sun shone on the fountain and the icy road. close by lay the lifeless body of a little girl surrounded by spent matches. "poor little thing!" exclaimed the passersby. "she was trying to keep warm!"
but by that time, the little match seller was far away, where there is neither cold, nor hunger, nor pain.