Chapter 43 Flame

The Little Match Girl was cold. She was so cold that she slowly turned into an icicle. She had only a few matches to warm herself, whose faint flame gave the illusion of warmth only for a few moments, too short to give hope.

This cold did not come only from the snow and frost, on which the poor child had to stand, mute begging for help. Or perhaps the girl no longer had the strength to beg, not at that moment, when the last match went out?

Human indifference was the greatest coldness. Hundreds, maybe thousands of people passed her by completely ignoring the child who was dying of loneliness, cold and hunger on the street. Why should they pay attention to her? Why should they spoil the joyful mood of Christmas by looking at a dirty, emaciated beggar? It was easier to look away and pretend not to see her.

Some might say that those were the times. Back then, everyone was poor and couldn't afford to help a lonely, neglected child. Now