stretched out her hands to them; then the match went out.

Still the lights of the Christmas tree rose higher and higher. She saw
them as stars in heaven, and one of them fell, forming a long trail of
fire.

"Now some one is dying," murmured the child softly; for her
grandmother, the only person who had loved her and who was now dead,
had told her that whenever a star falls a soul mounts up to God.

She struck yet another match against the wall, and again it was light;
and in the brightness there appeared before her the dear old
grandmother, bright and radiant, yet sweet and mild, and happy as she
had never looked on earth.

"Oh, grandmother," cried the child, "take me with you. I know you will
go away when the match burns out. You, too, will vanish, like the warm
stove, the splendid New Year's feast, the beautiful Christmas Tree."
And lest her grandmother should disappear, she rubbed the whole bundle
of matches against the wall.

And the matches burned with such a brilliant light that it became
brighter than noonday. Her grandmother had never looked so grand and
beautiful. She took the little girl in her arms, and both flew
together, joyously and gloriously, mounting higher and higher, far
above the earth; and for them there was neither hunger, nor cold, nor
care;--they were with God.

But in the corner, at the dawn of day, sat the poor girl, leaning
against the wall, with red cheeks and smiling mouth,--frozen to death