Symphony of Dawn

Fallen Star

Note; the lyrics to this song were inspired by The Little Match Girl, a fairy tale written by Hans Christian Andersen. Since there is already a tale connected to this song, I have decided to not write my own story but simply do a rewrite on the existing tale. 
Fallen Star is thus the only story in this collection that is not originally by my hand, but written in tribute to Andersen's original story, as the song was.

't Was a dreadful cold evening. The last of the year. Trudging through the snow walked a little girl. Ice crystals stuck to her black hair. Her naked feet were red and blue from the cold. She walked from one side of the street to the other, trying desperately to sell the matches she carried with her. No one had bought anything of her all live-long day. No one had bothered to even give her a single glance. She was invisible to the world around her. Everyone was on their way home to their families to have a wonderful New Year's Eve dinner beside the Christmas tree. What did they care about a little girl carrying a box of matches to sell?

Home... The girl did have a home, but she could not return there. It barely held a roof and creaked and cracked as the wind howled. There was no dinner waiting for her. Nor a Christmas tree. Nor a loving family even. She had not earned a single penny that day. Her father would surely beat her. They would go hungry another day because of her. She would rather face the crystal winter than his severe punishment.

The little girl crept along miserably, one foot after the other disappearing in the soft snow, shivering with cold and hunger. She came upon a small opening between two grand houses. She crouched down in a little heap and drew her feet under her. Even though she sat protected from the harsh wind, the little girl just grew colder.

She looked up at the windows of the houses. Lights were on. Laughter echoed. The tempting smell of roast goose made her empty belly ache. She rubbed her tiny hands, trying to warm them. But they'd gone numb. She eyed her matches. Did she dare to light one? Just to warm her hands. Would father really notice?

The little girl took one match out of her box. It trembled between her fingers. She tried to steady it and light it against the wall. How it sputtered! A warm, bright flame, a little candle, appeared in her hand—such a wonderful thing to behold. The girl closed her eyes and imagined herself sitting at a great iron stove with polished brass feet and brass ornaments. Oh, how the fire burned, the flames dancing before her! She stuck her frozen feet out, feeling the fire's comforting glow when all of a sudden... she felt nothing but cold again. Gone was the fire, gone was the stove, and gone was the warmth. All that remained was a burned match.

The girl sighed miserably. She looked about her. The streets were empty now. There were no people left to sell the matches to. One more surely would not hurt? She needed to stay warm. She needed something to fight against this bitter cold. Her fingers took hold of a second match. She struck it against the wall. The light it threw did something incredible. The wall had gone! The girl could see right through it as if the wall had become a veil and was drawn aside for her.

A white tablecloth was spread upon the table, decked with shining china dishes. It was absolutely the most exquisite dinner the little girl had ever seen. Creamy mushrooms, mashed potatoes, corn casserole... And right in the middle, a big roast goose stuffed with apples and dried plums. That couldn't possibly all be for her to eat? She could never eat that much! The goose suddenly hopped off the table, knife and fork sticking in its breast, and came waddling towards the little girl. She reached for the goose as it drew near and...

Out went the match. The veil closed. The wall was but a wall once more. The girl touched it, hoping that her trembling hand would go through somehow, but she could only touch the cold brown stones. Such cruelty that her mind would provide her with much-needed safety and comfort only to drop her back into this wretched reality. She cried silent tears, but they did not fall from her cheeks. They stayed frozen upon her face, the scars of winter's cruelty.

Her eyes wandered towards her box. One more match... yes, one more. The third match was lit, and the girl found herself sitting underneath the biggest Christmas tree she had laid eyes on. It was breathtakingly beautiful and far more richly dressed than she had seen in any of the windows she had passed that winter. The balls glistened brightly in the candlelight, the bows danced gracefully around the branches, and the figurines smiled down at her. They beckoned her to join them in their merriment. The girl came up with wobbly legs so she could climb the tree and...

Out went the match. The gentle smiles of the figurines faded. The bows loosened. The balls shattered. And the candles in the tree rose higher and higher until they were nought but stars in the dark sky above. The girl stared at them. Then, she saw one with a long fiery trail behind it. A falling star. She recalled a voice she had not heard in years. A memory of a person she had loved a long time ago.

'When a star falls from the Heavens, someone is to go on a journey to paradise. It means someone is dying. And the Heavens weep for that person, but at the same time stand ready to welcome them with open arms.'

The little girl struck a fourth match, hoping to see the person to whom that voice belonged. And yes! There she stood. Her dear old grandmother, all dazzling and bright and looking very kind and loving as she always had.

'Grandmother!' The little girl cried, frozen tears upon frozen cheeks. 'Oh grandmother, take me with you, please! Do not go away when the match burns out! Do not vanish like the warm stove, like the beautiful roast goose and the large and splendid Christmas tree! Please do not leave me again!'

She snatched all her matches out of the box, lighting them all at once. The matches burned with such a blaze that her grandmother became a guardian of the light they held. She came towards the girl and wrapped her up in her warm, gentle embrace. She carried her grandchild with her, high up into the sky, following the path of the fallen star to join the other lights, the other souls, that had gone up before them.

As the dawn came, the fallen star faded into the light of day. None had seen it but the little girl. She still sat between those two houses, leaning against the wall. People found her when a ray of sun shone upon her face. Her little body was frozen stiff, burned-out matches in her hand, and icy scars of fallen tears upon her red cheeks. What puzzled them most was the smile on her lips. But of course, they did not know what the girl had seen that past night. They did not know that, with the fallen star, she had gone with her guardian on her journey to paradise. They did not know that in death, she was finally safe and warm...

And oh, so loved.