Her little hands were almost dead with cold.Oh，one little match would do some good！If she only dared，she would pull one out of the packet and strike it on the wall to warm her fingers.She pulled out one.R-r-sh-sh！How it sputtered and blazed！It burnt with a bright clear flame，just like a little candle，when she held her hand round it.
Now the light seemed very strange to her！The little girl fancied that she was sitting in front of a big stove with polished brass feet and handles.There was a splendid fire blazing in it and warming her so beautifully，but—what happened？Just as she was stretching out her feet to warm them，the flame went out，the stove vanished—and she was left sitting with the end of the burnt match in her hand.
She struck a new one.It burnt，it blazed up，and where the light fell upon the wall，it became transparent like gauze，and she could see right through it into the room.
The table was spread with a snowy cloth and pretty china.A roast goose stuffed with apples and prunes was steaming on it.And what was even better，the goose hopped from the dish with the carving knife sticking in his back and waddled across the floor.It came right up to the poor child，and then—the match went out，and there was nothing to be seen but the thick black wall.
She lit another match.This time she was sitting under a lovely Christmas tree.It was much bigger and more beautifully decorated than the one she had seen when she peeped through the glass doors at the rich merchant's house on the last Christmas.Thousands of lighted candles gleamed under its branches.And colored pictures，such as she had seen in the shop windows，looked down at her.The little girl stretched out both her hands towards them—then out went the match.All the Christmas candles rose higher and higher，till she saw that they were only the twinkling stars.One of them fell and made a bright streak of light across the sky.