Story: [[Finding a Home]]

Winter 1863-Little Match Seller.

Please tell me why mother would make it so cold?
I feel it in my toes, they are like icicles hanging from the ledge above me.

I feel it in my fingers that are as cold as the wind that blew through my hair. I didn’t know what I did so wrong at home, to deserve this. I tried to sell those matches, I really tried. All those people with their nice warm coats, all those ladies with crocheted hats, they look so warm as warm as a log fire.

Little Match Seller-TopIllustrations

Here I’m dressed in burlap, a tattered apron and no shoes on my tingling toes. So, sad to think that these little matches in my basket would have saved me from the bruises on my cheek and the lashes on my back. Most of all it would have saved me from, being tossed out like the trash. Why do I have those matches you may ask? In my terror, I grabbed what I could and the only thing I managed to grab before the slap on the face was my basket.

It’s been hours now, I have yet to warm myself, I rub parts of my body to attempt to be warm and even lit all my matches. Nothing is helping, I will die here. I have no doubt. My eyes drifted and I felt so tired. I began to see images as vivid as the night my mother locked me in the closet. What a memory to end my days with, that’s a memory I never wish to resurface ever again.

Winter 1863-Lonely Old Woman.

Brr, that’s all I wanted to do that cold winter day. I had bundled myself as much as I could, my bread basket filled with warm bread. It was selling like it had never sold before. I had made enough money that Winter to survive for many years afterwards. I was as blessed as ever, I had a drafty home, but a warm fire. I had books to pass my days in the Winter and I had stored apples from the fall to make as many apple pies as my stomach could hold. It was, it is a simple life, but it was lonely.

I had dwindled away my younger years, in search of something far more than what I was capable of. I sought out dispassionate men and was faced with many unsavory characters, but throughout that I had a mother and father who was wonderful. Showered me with love and

Lonely Old Woman-LesenVisagers

encouragement, wished nothing but the best for me.  Sadly, they had died in a carriage accident when I was only seventeen. I was unmarried, but courting a man they never really cared for. He spent his days in pubs, squandering his measly earnings and at night he would visit the local whore house for what I was unwillingly to give. It was with these moments that I found that I was stronger on my own and with courage and the poverty I knew I would face I denied his proposal of marriage.

It was the best decision I could have made at the time, even now I would have rather been poor than the wife of a scoundrel.

This Winter was no different as the others, I only sold more bread. I wandered the streets in search of throwaways. It has always amazed me what the wealthy would toss. I found chairs with broken legs that I fixed by carving wood myself. I found clothing and shoe with holes, that all they needed was a steady hand to sew. It's amazing how much you learn when you only fend for yourself.

It was unexpected to find the poor thing that would change my life that night. She was bruised and blue, her baby toes curling and turning a black. The poor thing tried to warm herself as I took off one of my extra shawls and wrapped her as good as I could, placing her body against my breast. I walked the miles to my home, hoping and praying to my god she would last till I got her under my quilted covers.

Thankfully, she did.

Winter 1864-Little Match Seller and Old Woman.

It had been a year since we found one another.

The Happy Home-StarliteCafe

Old Woman:  I bundled her up so, and found some hose to put on her feet, managed to cover her fingers with over-sized gloves. I made her potato soup and a hot tea.

Little Match Seller: She took care of me that day and it was the first time I felt love. I was lucky she found me and just as lucky my mother didn’t care to. The first moment I woke up and saw her face I knew I was home. She was my real mom, not the one who birthed me and left me to die.

Old Woman: It is with her awakening that I knew that I would never be unloved, lonely and that the wished of my own parents so long ago has at last come true.

Little Match Seller/Old Woman: At last we were home.

Author's Note:

This was one of my favorite stories I read this week and it was also one of the saddest. I changed only minor things and I hate to give spoilers, but I feel like I must so you understand the changes I did make. First of all, I made it to where on the brink of death the Little Match Seller survived the cold and I highlighted her abuse in a way to really pay respects to abuse victims. The lonely old woman and her entire backstory is of my own creation. I thought a kind woman, the exact opposite of the Little Match Seller's own mother would showcase that there is still good people in this world. Since the Little Match Seller did not die I felt no need to revisit her visions, but instead I focused on the feelings and recollection of her past. Most of all, I wanted a happy ending for the young girl because the story just broke my heart.

  Fairy Tales and Stories by Hans Christian Andersen, translated by H. P. Paull (1872).

Hans Christian Andersen, Fairy Tales and Stories

I drew inspiration from LHOP (I grew up with this show!) I see the Match Seller as Caroline Ingalls in the future. All because an old woman took kindness on her. I think this video showcases how different the Little Match Sellers future will now be. I hope it makes sense.