2006-01-12 01:07:31 来自: 乌(一个人跳舞)
It was dreadfully cold, it was snowing fast, and almost dark. Everybody was hurrying home in such a cold night.for it was the last evening of this old year. But cold and dark as it was, a poor little girl was still wandering about the streets.
She carried a small bundle of matches in her bare hands which was quite red and blue with the cold. No one in the street seemed interested in her matches; no one even stopped to have a look. Trembling with cold and hungry, she wanted to cry.
This morning when she left her home she met an old lady in black. She wispered to the girl."Those matches are magical. Only the right person can light it up. When you sell them out you will get your love."
She looked beautiful with some snow on her curl golden hair. But she thought not of her own beauty, or even of the cold. She just wanted to sell out all her matches.
Finally, a gentleman stopped and asked for the matches.
"I want a match."
"Sir, could you light up one first?"
"Sure' he strucked one match against the wall. But he failed. "Gosh, bad matches."
He dropped the match on the ground and left angrily.
"Sorry, sir." the girl picked up the match and put it into her hand.
She still walked in the cold and dark street.
"Who wants my matches? Who?"
Another gentleman stopped and looked at the little girl. "What a poor girl! And she is so pretty!"
"I want all of your matches, and then you can go back home." the gentleman said.
"Sir, that's fine." the girl was happy. " Could you please strike this match on the wall first?"
"Oh, i dont need any matches. I just want to buy all of them."
"Sir, please."
"Ok, if you like." but he still failed.
"Sorry, sir. I can't sell them to you."
"Why? You just gave them to me. It's so cold here, you want to go home too, like all the people around."
"Sir, thanks for your thoughtful care. You are so heartkinded. But you are just not the right one. i have nothing except the matches in my hand. All the matches should be lighted up with its most brilliant flame. Sorry, sir."
"What?" He was too surprised to say anything but stood there like an iron pole when he saw the girl leaving away.
"Only the right one can light it up. " the girl thought, "And he's coming."
The wind and snow penetrated through her coat. Her hands were nearly dead with cold. But the little girl still wandered about the streets, waiting for the right one who can light up all her matches.
