The Little Match Girl family lived in poverty, difficult, motherless, she died young, so I dissipating assets to sell salt for the father and beat me brutally. On one day last year, I did not sell any matches. I do not dare go home for fear of father beaten. Eve the cold, I sit nestled into the wall between the two houses origin. Increasingly cold night, you swipe matches for heating Each lighted matchstick swipe an idea came to her wishes. First, you see the fireplace; the second time I saw the table and roast goose; ; I saw her for the third time to see her out and she ascended to heaven. The first morning, we saw a baby sitting between the matchbox matchbox which has a smooth burned. People said she was dead but still blushing cheeks and my lips are smiling.
đang được dịch, vui lòng đợi..
