Have you ever been in a difficult situation,
where you were powerless to make things better? How did you get through it?
One girl uses her imagination, to change the way she feels--
find out how she does it, in this Read Aloud with Mr. Paul.
Welcome to Read Aloud with Mr. Paul. I'm so glad you could be here.
Today we'll be reading The Little Match Girl, by Hans Christian Andersen and Jerry Pinkney.
Here’s our title page: The Little Match Girl,
originally written by Hans Christian Andersen. Adapted and illustrated by Jerry Pinkney.
children was at work making artificial flowers.
The wind whistled through the room,
try as they might to stuff the biggest cracks with rags and straw.
One of the children, who had an especially graceful way about her,
was sent out to sell flowers and matches in the city.
It was late in the wintry afternoon of New Year's
Eve as the poor little girl walked along the city streets.
She had had slippers on when she left home, but they were not much good, for they were so huge.
They had last been worn by her mother, and they fell off the girl's feet when she was running
across the avenue to avoid an automobile and a carriage that had nearly collided.
So the poor little girl went on with nothing but torn stockings on her numb feet.
She carried a quantity of matches in a tray and the flowers in a basket. As she trudged along,
she marveled at the many wonderful things for sale,
things that the little girl could never have imagined.
And there was a most delicious odor of roast goose in the streets,
for it was New Year's Eve. She could not forget that.
Nobody bought anything from her as the afternoon turned into evening; nobody had even given her a
coin. The child was hungry and trembling from the bitter cold, and she looked the picture of misery.
The little girl longed to go home, but she could not,
as she had not sold any of her matches or flowers.
Her father would beat her; besides,
it was almost as cold at home as it was here. She walked on until she found a corner that
seemed to offer protection from the wind, but she was colder than ever.
Her little hands and feet were almost stiff with cold. She thought perhaps a match would do some
good. But did she dare take one from the tray and strike it on the wall to warm her fingers?
She pulled one out, and with a rrsschh, it blazed into life. It burned with a bright, clear flame,
just like a little candle when she held her hand around it. It gave off a very strange light too.
It seemed to the little girl 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 just as she was stretching her feet to warm them...
The blaze went out, the stove vanished,
and she was left sitting with the end of the burned-out match in her hand.
She struck a new one. It burned, it blazed up, and where the light fell,
the wall became transparent, and she saw a marvelous feast spread out before her.
The table was spread with a white cloth and pretty china; a roast goose stuffed
with apples and chestnuts was steaming on it. There was another table filled
with cookies and desserts of all kinds. The little girl's mouth watered as she gazed at
these delicacies. The match went out, and there was nothing to be seen but the bare brick wall.
Again, she lit another. This time she was sitting next to a lovely Christmas tree,
surrounded by beautiful clothes and toys--all the things she had seen only in shop windows.
Thousands of lighted candles gleamed upon the tree's branches. The little girl stretched
out both her hands towards them--then out went the match. 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. Someone is dying, thought the little girl;
for her old grandmother, the only person who had ever been kind to her, used to say,
"When a star falls, a soul is going up to God."
Now she struck another match against the wall, and this time it was her grandmother who appeared in
the circle of flame. She saw her quite clearly and distinctly, looking so gentle and loving.
She lit still another, and this time she was with her grandmother,
just as they had been so many times before. How real it all seemed to be.
"Grandmother!" cried the lonely child.
"Oh, do take me with you! I know you will vanish when the match goes out; you will
vanish like the warm stove, the delicious goose, and the beautiful Christmas tree!"
She hastily struck a whole bunch of matches, because she did so long to
keep her grandmother with her. The light of the matches made it bright as day.
Grandmother had never looked so big or so beautiful. She lifted the little girl into
her arms, and they soared in a halo of light and joy, far, far above the earth,
where there was no more cold, no hunger, no pain, for they were with God.
In the cold morning light the poor little girl sat
there in the corner with a smile on her face--dead.
Frozen to death on the last night of the old year. When the people of the
city finally arose on New Year's Day, they discovered the little
body still sitting with the ends of the burned-out matches in her hand.
The flowers had been scattered by the frigid night wind across the sidewalk and into the street.
She must have tried to warm herself, some said.
But no one imagined what beautiful visions she had seen,
nor into what glory she had entered with her grandmother in the New Year.
What do we notice about this story?
First, I notice how powerful the story is,
and how it touches my emotions when I read it. I think the writer Hans Christian Andersen and
the artist Jerry Pinkney intended it that way. They wanted to touch our emotions,
to make us feel strong feelings when we read it. So if that happens to you when
you are reading a story--or watching a movie, or listening to a song--that's a good thing.
Let those feelings come up, even if they are sad feelings. It's healthy
to be sad sometimes. A full life is one that includes all kinds of emotions,
and an artwork, like this story, can help open those doors for us.
I also notice on the very first page of the story, the illustration shows the girl making artificial
flowers along with her brothers and sisters at the table while their father watches them.
The children seem nervous and quiet, even afraid of their father. I could
tell right away this is not a happy family. Later in the story we find out
the father beats the children if they come home without selling anything.
And then we see how poor her family is, and how she has no shoes of her own, and the little girl
has a job, working in the dangerous streets. She has such a hard life. She reminds me of
Cinderella, who also had an abusive family, and Hansel and Gretel, who also faced starvation.
Storybooks can show us the hard truth about life, which sometimes includes pain and suffering.
And the hardest truth in this story comes at the end, when the little girl freezes to death. Things
like this do sometimes happen in real life. If there is comfort in the story, it's that the
little girl, facing an impossible situation, uses her imagination to dream of happier circumstances,
of having everything she wants. At the most difficult time, in the girl's final moments,
she thinks of her grandmother, the person who loved her most of all. This vision of being
held by her grandmother, of being surrounded by love, and going away to a place with no more pain,
is what takes the terrible sadness of this story and makes something beautiful from it.
I have no wish to suffer like our main character does, and I certainly don't want to die the way
that she does, alone in the freezing cold and darkness. Even so, all of us will die someday, and
when it's my turn, I do hope that--like the little match girl--my last thought is that I am loved.
Thank you so much for joining me for Read Aloud with Mr. Paul. Until next time,
discover the wonder in a book--pick one up, take a look!
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