Most terribly cold it was; it snowed, and was nearly quite dark, and it was the last evening of the year. In this cold and dark...coldness and darkness there went along the street a poor little girl, who was actually a grown woman named Kagura.
When she left home she had slippers on, but what was the good of that? They were very large slippers, which her mother had worn; they were so large the poor little thing lost them as she scuffled away across the street, because of two carriages that rolled by dreadfully fast. She took the liberty of throwing rocks at those stupid carriages.
One slipper was nowhere to be found; the other had been laid hold of by an urchin, and off he ran with it; he thought it would do capitally for a cradle when he some day or other should have children himself.
So Kagura walked on with her tiny naked feet, that were quite red and blue from cold. They looked like the American flag. The flakes of snow covered her black hair that she kept held up in a bun with two feathers. She carried a quantity of matches in an old apron, and she held a bundle of them in her hand. Nobody had bought anything from her the whole day.
From all the windows the candles were gleaming, and it smelt so deliciously of roast goose, for it was New Year's Eve.
In a corner formed by two houses, of which one advanced more than the other, she seated herself down and curled up in a little ball. Her little feet she had drawn close up to her. She grew colder and colder but she couldn't go home for she had not sold any matches and could money; her father Naraku would surely beat her.
Her little hands were almost numbed with cold. Oh! a match might afford her a world of comfort, if she only dared take a single one out of the bundle, draw it against the wall, and warm her fingers by it. She drew one out and how it blazed, how it burnt! It was a warm, bright flame, like a candle, as she held her hands over it: it was a wonderful light.
It seemed to Kagura as though she were really sitting before a large iron stove, with burnished brass feet and a brass ornament at top. The fire burned with such blessed influence; it warmed so delightfully. Kagura had already stretched out her feet to warm them; but--the small flame went out, the stove vanished: she had only the remains of the burnt-out match in her hand.
She rubbed another against the wall: it burned brightly, and where the light fell on the wall, there the wall became transparent like a veil, so that she could see into the room. On the table was spread a snow-white tablecloth; upon it was a splendid porcelain service, and the roast goose was steaming famously with its stuffing of apple and dried plums.
And what was still more capital to behold was, the goose hopped down from the dish, reeled about on the floor with knife and fork in its breast, till it came up to the Kagura when--the match went out and nothing but the thick, cold, damp wall was left behind.
She lit another match. Now there she was sitting under the most magnificent Christmas tree: it was still larger, and more decorated than the one which she had seen through the glass door in the rich merchant's house.
Thousands of lights were burning on the green branches, and gaily-colored pictures, such as she had seen in the shop-windows, looked down upon her. Kagura stretched out her hands towards them when--the match went out. The lights of the Christmas tree rose higher and higher, she saw them now as stars in heaven; one fell down and formed a long trail of fire.
"Someone just died!" said the Kagura; for her deceased husband Sesshomaru, the only person who had loved her had told her that when a star falls, a soul ascends to God.
She drew another match against the wall: it was again light, and in the lustre there stood the Sesshomaru, so fluffy and shiny, his makeup painted on, his crecent moon looking very gay on his forehead.
"Sesshomaru!" cried the Kagura. "Oh, take me with you! You go away when the match burns out; you vanish like the warm stove, like the delicious roast goose, and like the magnificent Christmas tree!" And she rubbed the whole bundle of matches quickly against the wall, for she wanted to be quite sure of keeping her husband near her.
Unfortunately Kagura was really dumb and didn't even realize those were illusions and that was why they kept disappearing.
And the matches gave such a brilliant light that it was brighter than at noon-day: never formerly had Sesshomaru been so beautiful and so tall. He took the Kagura on her arm, and both flew in brightness and in joy so high, so very high, and then above was neither cold, nor hunger, nor anxious--they were with God.
But in the corner, at the cold hour of dawn, sat Kagura with rosy cheeks and with a smiling mouth, leaning against the wall--frozen to death on the last evening of the old year. Stiff and stark sat the child there with her matches, of which one bundle had been burnt.
"She wanted to warm herself," people said. No one had the slightest suspicion of what beautiful things she had seen; no one even dreamed of the splendor in which with her husband she had entered on the joys of a new year.