Imagine a night so cold, your breath turned into tiny white clouds. Snowflakes danced down from the dark sky, covering everything in a soft, white blanket. It was New Year's Eve, and the air was filled with the delicious smells of cooking and the happy sounds of laughter from warm houses.

But out in the chilly streets, a little girl wandered all alone. She had no shoes on her tiny feet, and her thin dress wasn't much help against the biting wind. In her apron, she carried a bundle of matches. "Matches! Who will buy my matches?" she called out, but her voice was small, and nobody seemed to hear her.

The little girl's feet were red and blue with cold. She hadn't sold a single match all day, and she was afraid to go home. Her father would be cross if she came back with no money. Besides, her own home was almost as cold as the street.

She found a little corner between two tall houses, a tiny bit sheltered from the wind. Her fingers were stiff with cold. "Maybe just one match," she thought, "to warm my hands." She took one out and struck it against the wall. Whoosh! A bright, warm flame danced up. It felt like she was sitting in front of a big, cozy iron stove. Oh, how lovely and warm it was! She stretched out her feet to warm them too… but then, poof! The match went out, and the stove disappeared. The cold rushed back in.

She lit another match. This time, she saw a table set with a shiny white cloth. And on it, a delicious-smelling roast goose, stuffed with apples and prunes! The goose even seemed to hop off the plate and waddle towards her. But then, poof! The match went out, and the wonderful feast vanished.

Quickly, she lit a third match. Oh! A beautiful Christmas tree, much bigger and prettier than any she had ever seen. Thousands of tiny candles sparkled on its green branches, and colorful balls gleamed. She reached out her hands towards the pretty lights… poof! The match died, and the candles on the tree flew higher and higher, turning into stars in the dark sky.

One of the stars fell, leaving a long, bright trail. "Someone is going to heaven," the little girl whispered. Her kind old grandmother, who was now in heaven, had told her that when a star falls, a soul goes up to God.

She struck another match against the wall, and in its light, there stood her grandmother, looking so gentle and loving.
"Grandmother!" cried the little girl. "Oh, take me with you! I know you'll go away when the match burns out, just like the warm stove, the yummy goose, and the beautiful Christmas tree!"

She quickly lit all the matches she had left, one after another. She wanted to keep her grandmother with her. The matches blazed with such a bright light, it was brighter than daytime. Her grandmother had never looked so tall or so beautiful. She smiled, took the little girl in her arms, and together they flew up, up, high above the cold, towards joy and light, where there was no more cold, no hunger, and no sadness.

The next morning, in the cold dawn, people found the little girl leaning against the wall. Her cheeks were rosy, and she had a smile on her lips. She was frozen, dead on the last night of the old year.
"She tried to warm herself," someone said, looking at the burnt matches beside her.
No one knew the beautiful things she had seen, or how happily she had gone with her grandmother into the New Year's joy.

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