“The Little Filly”
Ponies went out, smiles and greetings lit the small town. Saddlebags were full of items to share. A little voice called, but was drowned by the merry and happy voices. The little voice called again, but then it snowed, and ponies didn't notice the little voice. It tried again, the scarf blew lightly with the wind. Nopony noticed.
Behind the clouds, the sun has moved. The light went dim. Everypony noticed. The little voice called out again.
Nopony noticed.
...
It had snowed, and it was very cold outside. Now it was nearly dark. In the cold and dark walked a poor little filly. She had no hat. She had no scarf. When she left home, she had a scarf. It was very large. It had been her mother's. But she had run across the street to avoid a fast carriage. The scarf was so big, it fell off as she ran.
A colt had found the scarf. He ran off with it. She couldn't chase after him. He was too fast. So the little filly trotted on with her tiny, naked hooves. They were quite numb from the cold.
The little filly had many matches. She sold them for Bits. She kept most of them in an old and worn saddlebag. She held a bundle of them in her hoof so ponies could see. But nopony had bought any from her the whole day. Nopony had given her a single Bit.
And now she was hungry. She had no Bits for food. She couldn't stay warm. Her body shook as she trotted along. The flakes of snow covered her dirty, green coat, and long, golden mane and tail. Her mane fell in lovely curls around her neck. But she didn't feel pretty.
Right now she felt alone. She passed many houses. Candles shone in all the windows. And the air smelled of roast hay. It was Heart's Warming's Eve. Ponies were celebrating. They were all happy, but she was not.
She found a corner made by two houses. She sat down and tried to keep out of the wind. She drew her hooves up close to her. But she could not keep them warm. Her whole body grew colder. But she couldn't go home. She had not sold any matches today. She had no Bits to bring to her family. Her father would be angry. And it was cold at home, too. In her room, the wind whistled. The roof had large cracks. They were stopped with straw and rags. But the cold came in just the same.
Her tiny little hooves were almost numb with cold. She had a thought. A match might bring her some comfort. If she only dared take one out of the bundle. She could draw it against the wall. It would light. She could warm her hooves by it. She took one out. She lit it. How it blazed, how it burned! It was a warm, bright flame. It looked like a candle. She held her hooves over it. It felt wonderful.
It seemed to the little filly as if she were sitting before a large fire. She stretched out her hooves to warm them, too. But the small flame went out. The fire was gone. She had only the remains of the burnt-out match in her hoof.
She rubbed another one against the wall. It burned as brightly as the first. The light fell on the wall. She thought she could see into the room beyond. On the table was spread a snow-white tablecloth. And there was a splendid china set. The roast hay was hot. There were apples and dried mangoes. Her mouth watered with hunger.
She reached out for the hay. Her hoof almost touched it. Then, the match went out. Nothing was left but the thick, cold, damp wall.
She lit another match. Now she was sitting under the most beautiful Heart's Warming tree. Thousands of lights were burning on the green branches. Pretty pictures hung on the walls. They looked as lovely as the ones she had seen in the shop windows. The little filly held out her hooves towards them. Just then, the match went out.
But the lights of the Heart's Warming's tree rose higher and higher. She saw them now as stars in the sky. One fell down and formed a long trail of fire.
“Oh,” said the little filly. “Someone has just died.”
Her old grandmother had told her the story. When a star falls, a soul goes up to Heaven. She wanted to see more, so she lit another match. In the bright light stood her grandmother. She was the only pony who had loved the filly. Her face was kind and full of love.
“Grandmother!” cried the little filly. “Please, take me with you!”
But her grandmother started to fade as the match burned out.
“No!” screamed the little filly. “Don't go!” And she rubbed all of her matches against the wall. She wanted to keep her grandmother near her. And the matches gave such a bright light. It was brighter even than at noon. Her grandmother became solid again. She took the little filly on her hooves. Both flew up into the light. And there was no cold. There was no hunger. They were both in Heaven. The little filly was so happy.
On the street, ponies stopped at the corner. There they saw the little filly. She was sitting curled up very tightly. It was still very cold. But the filly's cheeks were rosy. She had a smile on her face. She had a bundle of matches in her hoof. They were burnt out.
“She wanted to warm herself,” ponies said. They looked at her body with pity. But nopony had any idea of what she had seen. Nopony even dreamed of her joy. With her grandmother, she was finally happy. With her grandmother, she celebrated Heart's Warming.
Author's Note
Ponified and Christmas-fied version of Hans Christian Andersen's The Little Match Girl.
