Well Now, Here We Are

When I was a little girl I was always fascinated by the story of the little match girl by Hans Christian Anderson. She sold wooden stick matches out in the freezing snow at the holidays and looked in the windows of the wealthy and saw the laden tables of food and gifts and warm fire crackling in the hearth. Sad, cold and hungry, she sat in the snow in the alleyway and burned her matches one by one stealing what little warmth and light she could from them, each one of course burning out very quickly. Soon she had used up all the matches. She fell into a cold slumber, dreaming of her grandmother and days of happiness before she died and left her all alone. So the story ends with the little girl dying in the snow and being led away into the light by her grandmother's spirit. Sad. Poignant.

Honor Appleton

Why I am thinking of this? Well now, here we are. I am glad its not winter right now.