The Little Match Girl - Narrator - Child - Storytime - Real Person
Description
Vocal Characteristics
Language
EnglishVoice Age
Young Adult (18-35)Accents
North American (General) North American (US General American - GenAM) US African AmericanTranscript
Note: Transcripts are generated using speech recognition software and may contain errors.
Once upon a time, a little girl tried to make a living by selling matches in the street. It was New Year's Eve, and the snowy streets were deserted. From brightly lit windows came the sound of laughter and singing. People are getting ready to bring in the new year. But the poor little match seller in her ragged dress and warn shawl, set the side of fountain shivering from the cold. She hadn't sold one box of matches all day. The little girl's fingers were stiff. If only she could light a match, Her hands shaking, she took out a match and lit it. What a nice warm flame. The little match seller cupped her hand over it, and as she did so, she magically saw and its light of brightly burning stove. She held out her hands to the heat. But just then, the match one out and the vision faded. The night seemed blacker than before, and it was getting colder. She struck another match on the wall, and this time the glimmer turned the wall into a great sheet of crystal. Beyond that stood a fine table laden with food. The little match girl held out her arms toward the plates. But then the match went out and the magic faded. Poor thing. In just a few seconds, she had caught a glimpse of everything that life had denied her warmth and good things to eat. Her eyes filled with tears, she little third match, and an even more wonderful thing happened. There stood a Christmas tree hung with hundreds of candles glittering with tinsel and colored balls. Oh, how lovely! Exclaimed the little match girl holding up the match. Then the match burned her finger and flickered out. The beautiful Christmas tree faded into the darkness, scarcely aware of what she was doing. The little match girl that yet another match. This time she saw her grandmother, Granny. Stay with me, she pleaded, as she let one match after the other so that her grandmother could not disappear. Like all the other visions, Granny did not vanish but gazed smilingly at her. Then she opened her arms and the little girl hugged her crying. Granny, Take me with you. A cold day gone and a pale sun shone on the fountain in the icy road close by, laid the lifeless body of a little girl surrounded by burned out matches. But the smile on her face was a sign that the little match girl was far away and a place where there was neither cold hunger nor pain.