Thousandsoflightswereburningonthegreenbranches,andgaily-coloredpictures,suchasshehadseenintheshop-windows,lookeddownuponher. Thelittlemaidenstretchedoutherhandstowardsthemwhen--thematchwentout. ThelightsoftheChristmastreerosehigherandhigher,shesawthemnowasstarsinheaven;onefelldownandformedalongtrailoffire. "Someoneisjustdead!"saidthelittlegirl;forheroldgrandmother,theonlypersonwhohadlovedher,andwhowasnownomore,hadtoldher,thatwhenastarfalls,asoulascendstoGod. Shedrewanothermatchagainstthewall:itwasagainlight,andinthelustretherestoodtheoldgrandmother,sobrightandradiant,somild,andwithsuchanexpressionoflove. "Grandmother!"criedthelittleone. "Oh,takemewithyou!Yougoawaywhenthematchburnsout;youvanishlikethewarmstove,likethedeliciousroastgoose,andlikethemagnificentChristmastree!" Andsherubbedthewholebundleofmatchesquicklyagainstthewall,forshewantedtobequitesureofkeepinghergrandmothernearher. Andthematchesgavesuchabrilliantlightthatitwasbrighterthanatnoon-day:neverformerlyhadthegrandmotherbeensobeautifulandsotall. Shetookthelittlemaiden,onherarm,andbothflewinbrightnessandinjoysohigh,soveryhigh,andthenabovewasneithercold,norhunger,noranxiety--theywerewithGod. Butinthecorner,atthecoldhourofdawn,satthepoorgirl,withrosycheeksandwithasmilingmouth,leaningagainstthewall--frozentodeathonthelasteveningoftheoldyear. Stiffandstarksatthechildtherewithhermatches,ofwhichonebundlehadbeenburnt. "Shewantedtowarmherself,"peoplesaid. Noonehadtheslightestsuspicionofwhatbeautifulthingsshehadseen; nooneevendreamedofthesplendorinwhich,withhergrandmothershehadenteredonthejoysofanewyear.