S-N: I'm back!! Yes, I know that it isn't anywhere nearNew Years. I would have lost it if I had waited till then to write it and some people read holiday stories year-round, so I'm posting it now.
Disclaimer: I don't own Digimon or "The Little Match Seller" by Hans Christian Anderson
The sun was setting on the last day of the year. A girl, Hikari, walked barefoot through the frozen streets, selling matches. She had a pair of pink fuzzy slippers, but they were her mothers and therefore too big for her feet. One was lost while dodging two carriages rattling along while crossing a street earlier that afternoon, and the second one got stuck in the mud, then carried away by a poor five year old girl to use as a cradle for her broken doll.
It was dark now, with lights shining from every window and the smell of roast goose drifting through the air. Her brown eyes looked up at the sky— it had started to snow—and watched the flakes fall, spellbound, until the last person had already gone inside. She curled up in a nearby ally, trying to warm herself, her feet now black and blue from the cold. For Hikari had sold no matches that day, and she couldn't go home without even a penny or her parents would beat her. 'Besides,' Hikari thought, 'it's not like home is any warmer then this ally is. With all the holes in the roof and the broken windows, I'm surprised that we haven't frozen solid yet.'
After about fifteen minutes in the cold she remembered about the matches. Reaching into the large pockets of the stained old apron she wore to carry the match packs and any money she earned, she pulled out a single match from the top pack and struck it on the wall. Scratch. The shivering child stared at the small warm light, almost like a glowing candle, and held her fingers over the open flame. It was almost like she was sitting next to a large iron stove, with polished brass feet and ornaments. How bright and hot the fire was! She even stretched her feet outward, as if to warm them too. But then the illusion disappeared, leaving Hikari with nothing but a burnt out match.
She lit another match on the wall. It burst into a flame, and where the light fell on the wall it became transparent like glass, and she could see into the room. The table was covered with a white table-cloth, which held a splendid dinner, and a steaming roast goose, stuffed with apples and dried plums. And what was even more wonderful, the goose jumped down from the platter and waddled across the floor, with a knife and fork still in its breast, to the little girl. Then the match went out, and there was nothing but the cold wall left before her.
Eagerly, she lighted another match, and found herself sitting under a beautiful Christmas tree. It was larger and more beautifully decorated than the one which she had seen through the glass doors at the rich merchant's store. Thousands of ornaments were shining in the green branches, and glittering tensile and delicious candy canes were scattered among them. The little one stretched out her hand towards it, but the match went out again.
The Christmas lights around her rose higher and higher, till they looked like the stars in the sky. Then she saw a falling star, leaving behind a bright streak across the sky. 'Someone is dying.' thought the young girl, for her departed older brother Taichi, the only one who had ever loved her, had told her that when a star falls, a soul was going up to God.
Hikari struck yet another match on the wall, and this time the light shone all around her. In the glow stood her brother, Taichi, clear and pure, yet kind and loving, as he always was. "Taichi!" cried the little one, "Please, take me with you. I know you will go when the match burns out—just like the warm stove, the roast goose, and the gorgeous Christmas-tree." And she
quickly lit the whole pack of matches, wanting to keep her brother there. And the matches glowed with a light twice as bright as the summer sun, and her brother had never appeared so large or beautiful. Taichi took the little girl in his arms, and they both flew upwards far above the earth, where there was neither cold nor hunger nor pain, because they were with God.
In the dawn of the next morning the poor little one, with pale cheeks and smiling mouth, was leaning against the ally wall; she had frozen to death on New Years' eve. The child still sat, stiff and cold, holding a used pack matches in her hand, all of which were burnt. "She tried to warm himself," some said. No one knew the beautiful things she had seen, or the happiness she had felt as she forever left the world with her brother so early on that lonely New Years Day.
Please review, and happy New Years. (for those who do read this on/around New Years)