卖火柴的小女孩的故事

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所属分类:民间故事

卖火柴的小女孩的简介

它讲述的是一个在圣诞夜卖火柴的小女孩的悲惨命运。因为没有卖掉一根火柴,小女孩一天没有吃东西。她又冷又饿,她擦亮了第一根火柴,看见了喷香的烤鹅;她擦亮第二根火柴,看见了美丽的圣诞树;她擦亮了第三根火柴,看见了久违的外婆,她想让外婆留在自己身边,擦亮了一整把火柴。然而当火柴熄灭的时候,这所有的一切都不见了,小女孩就是这样在圣诞之夜悲惨地死去,没有人知道她在生前最后一刻看到的美好情景。

卖火柴的小女孩的故事

天气冷得可怕。正在下雪,黑暗的夜幕开始垂下来了。这是这年最后的一夜——新年的前夕。在这样的寒冷和黑暗中,有一个光头赤脚的小女孩正在街上走着。是的,她离开家的时候还穿着一双拖鞋,但那又有什么用呢?那是一双非常大的拖鞋——那么大,最近她妈妈一直在穿着。当她匆忙地越过街道的时候,两辆马车飞奔着闯过来,弄得小姑娘把鞋跑落了。有一只她怎样也寻不到,另一只又被一个男孩子捡起来,拿着逃走了。男孩子还说,等他将来有孩子的时候,可以把它当做一个摇篮来使用。

现在小姑娘只好赤着一双小脚走。小脚已经冻得发红发青了。她有许多火柴包在一个旧围裙里;她手中还拿着一扎。这一整天谁也没有向她买过一根;谁也没有给她一个铜板。

可怜的小姑娘!她又饿又冻得向前走,简直是一幅愁苦的画面。雪花落到她金黄的长头发上——它卷曲地散落在她的肩上,看上去非常美丽。不过她并没有想到自己漂亮。所有的窗子都射出光来,街上飘着一股烤鹅肉①的香味。的确,这是除夕。她在想这件事情。

那儿有两座房子,其中一座房子比另一座更向街心伸出一点,她便在这个墙角里坐下来,缩作一团。她把一双小脚也缩进来,不过她感到更冷。她不敢回家里去,因为她没有卖掉一根火柴,没有赚到一个铜板。她的父亲一定会打她,而且家里也是很冷的,因为他们头上只有一个可以灌进风来的屋顶,虽然最大的裂口已经用草和破布堵住了。

她的一双小手几乎冻僵了。唉!哪怕一根小火柴对她也是有好处的。只要她敢抽出一根来,在墙上擦着了,就可以暖暖手!最后她抽出一根来了。哧!它燃起来了,冒出火光来了!当她把手覆在上面的时候,它便变成了一朵温暖、光明的火焰,像是一根小小的蜡烛。这是一道美丽的小光!小姑娘觉得真像坐在一个铁火炉旁边一样:它有光亮的黄铜圆捏手和黄铜炉身,火烧得那么欢,那么暖,那么美!唉,这是怎么一回事儿?当小姑娘刚刚伸出一双脚,打算暖一暖脚的时候,火焰就忽然熄灭了!火炉也不见了。她坐在那儿,手中只有烧过了的火柴。

她又擦了一根。它燃起来了,发出光来了。墙上有亮光照着的那块地方,现在变得透明,像一片薄纱;她可以看到房间里的东西:桌上铺着雪白的台布,上面有精致的碗盘,填满了梅子和苹果的、冒着香气的烤鹅。更美妙的事情是:这只鹅从盘子里跳出来了,背上插着刀叉,蹒跚地在地上走着,一直向这个穷苦的小姑娘面前走来。这时火柴就熄灭了;她面前只有一堵又厚又冷的墙。

她点了另一根火柴。现在她是坐在美丽的圣诞树下面。上次圣诞节时,她透过玻璃门,看到一个富有商人家里的一株圣诞树;可是现在这一株比那株还要大,还要美。它的绿枝上燃着几千支蜡烛;彩色的图画,跟橱窗里挂着的那些一样美丽,在向她眨眼。这个小姑娘把两只手伸过去。于是火柴就熄灭了。圣诞节的烛光越升越高。她看到它们现在变成了明亮的星星。这些星星有一颗落下来了,在天上划出一条长长的光线。

“现在又有一个什么人死去了②,”小姑娘说,因为她的老祖母曾经说过:天上落下一颗星,地上就有一个灵魂升到了上帝那儿去。老祖母是唯一对她好的人,但是现在已经死了。

她在墙上又擦了一根火柴。它把四周都照亮了;在这光亮中老祖母出现了。她显得那么光明,那么温柔,那么和蔼。

“祖母!”小姑娘叫起来。“啊!请把我带走吧!我知道,这火柴一灭掉,你就会不见了,你就会像那个温暖的火炉、那只美丽的烤鹅、那棵幸福的圣诞树一样地不见了!”

于是她急忙把整束火柴中剩下的火柴都擦亮了,因为她非常想把祖母留住。这些火柴发出强烈的光芒,照得比大白天还要明朗。祖母从来没有像现在这样显得美丽和高大。她把小姑娘抱起来,搂到怀里。她们两人在光明和快乐中飞走了,越飞越高,飞到既没有寒冷,也没有饥饿,也没有忧愁的那块地方——她们是跟上帝在一起。

不过在一个寒冷的早晨,这个小姑娘却坐在一个墙角里;她的双颊通红,嘴唇发出微笑,她已经死了——在旧年的除夕冻死了。新年的太阳升起来了,照着她小小的尸体!她坐在那儿,手中还捏着火柴——其中有一扎差不多都烧光了。

“她想把自己暖和一下,”人们说。谁也不知道:她曾经看到过多么美丽的东西,她曾经是多么光荣地跟祖母一起,走到新年的幸福中去。

①烤鹅肉是丹麦圣诞节和除夕晚餐中的一个主菜。

②北欧人的迷信:世界上有一个人,天上便有一颗星。一颗星的陨落象征一个人的死亡。

卖火柴的小女孩的寓意

读完这个童话故事,我的心灵受到了极大的震撼:大年夜的夜晚,下着雪,小女孩一个人走在街上卖火柴,还赤着脚走路,是多么的可怜啊!我很想知道,为什么那时候穷人家的孩子都要遭受这么大的痛苦,在资本社会里,富人有享不完的荣华富贵,而穷人只有挨饿的悲惨下场!

英文版:The Little Match-Seller

IT was terribly cold and nearly dark on the last evening of the old year, and the snow was falling fast. In the cold and the darkness, a poor little girl, with bare head and naked feet, roamed through the streets. It is true she had on a pair of slippers when she left home, but they were not of much use. They were very large, so large, indeed, that they had belonged to her mother, and the poor little creature had lost them in running across the street to avoid two carriages that were rolling along at a terrible rate. One of the slippers she could not find, and a boy seized upon the other and ran away with it, saying that he could use it as a cradle, when he had children of his own. So the little girl went on with her little naked feet, which were quite red and blue with the cold. In an old apron she carried a number of matches, and had a bundle of them in her hands. No one had bought anything of her the whole day, nor had anyone given her even a penny. Shivering with cold and hunger, she crept along; poor little child, she looked the picture of misery. The snowflakes fell on her long, fair hair, which hung in curls on her shoulders, but she regarded them not.

Lights were shining from every window, and there was a savory smell of roast goose, for it was New-year’s eve—yes, she remembered that. In a corner, between two houses, one of which projected beyond the other, she sank down and huddled herself together. She had drawn her little feet under her, but she could not keep off the cold; and she dared not go home, for she had sold no matches, and could not take home even a penny of money. Her father would certainly beat her; besides, it was almost as cold at home as here, for they had only the roof to cover them, through which the wind howled, although the largest holes had been stopped up with straw and rags. Her little hands were almost frozen with the cold. Ah! perhaps a burning match might be some good, if she could draw it from the bundle and strike it against the wall, just to warm her fingers. She drew one out—“scratch!” how it sputtered as it burnt! It gave a warm, bright light, like a little candle, as she held her hand over it. It was really a wonderful light. It seemed to the little girl that she was sitting by a large iron stove, with polished brass feet and a brass ornament. How the fire burned! and seemed so beautifully warm that the child stretched out her feet as if to warm them, when, lo! the flame of the match went out, the stove vanished, and she had only the remains of the half-burnt match in her hand.

She rubbed another match on the wall. It burst into a flame, and where its light fell upon the wall it became as transparent as a veil, and she could see into the room. The table was covered with a snowy white table-cloth, on which stood a splendid dinner service, and a steaming roast goose, stuffed with apples and dried plums. And what was still more wonderful, the goose jumped down from the dish and waddled across the floor, with a knife and fork in its breast, to the little girl. Then the match went out, and there remained nothing but the thick, damp, cold wall before her.

She lighted another match, and then she found herself sitting under a beautiful Christmas-tree. It was larger and more beautifully decorated than the one which she had seen through the glass door at the rich merchant’s. Thousands of tapers were burning upon the green branches, and colored pictures, like those she had seen in the show-windows, looked down upon it all. The little one stretched out her hand towards them, and the match went out.

The Christmas lights rose higher and higher, till they looked to her like the stars in the sky. Then she saw a star fall, leaving behind it a bright streak of fire. “Someone is dying,” thought the little girl, for her old grandmother, the only one who had ever loved her, and who was now dead, had told her that when a star falls, a soul was going up to God.

She again rubbed a match on the wall, and the light shone round her; in the brightness stood her old grandmother, clear and shining, yet mild and loving in her appearance. “Grandmother,” cried the little one, “O take me with you; I know you will go away when the match burns out; you will vanish like the warm stove, the roast goose, and the large, glorious Christmas-tree.” And she made haste to light the whole bundle of matches, for she wished to keep her grandmother there. And the matches glowed with a light that was brighter than the noon-day, and her grandmother had never appeared so large or so beautiful. She took the little girl in her arms, and they both flew upwards in brightness and joy far above the earth, where there was neither cold nor hunger nor pain, for they were with God.

In the dawn of morning there lay the poor little one, with pale cheeks and smiling mouth, leaning against the wall; she had been frozen to death on the last evening of the year; and the New-year’s sun rose and shone upon a little corpse! The child still sat, in the stiffness of death, holding the matches in her hand, one bundle of which was burnt. “She tried to warm herself,” said some. No one imagined what beautiful things she had seen, nor into what glory she had entered with her grandmother, on New-year’s day.

文章来源:安徒生童话

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