Christmas Eve that day, endless outdoor incessant snowfall, such as the cold bone-adorned Christmas a special day in the year, this day is the day Princess was born ... .. She, arms around how paper contains a lot of the matchbox. As they walked, she has raised her voice to invite the Ad.
Cold weather, people gathered around the fireplace to welcome Christmas, the kids are waiting for Santa Claus to present gifts. And she, her bare feet dragging through every small streets selling small matchbox each grape. Tattered sandals her naughty kids were throwing away this morning. As of late increasingly colder sky, her legs seem purple, some people on the street hustle back home, no one seemed to notice her even though her eyes still looked looked at them with innocent eyes half pleading, half shyly. Somehow, she was just selling a box of matches a penny as usual but today she sells absolutely nobody to ask, does not the heartless them or because they are too rushed?
As the night sky, the more snow fell, covered with a white everywhere snow removal. The Little Match Girl is now exhausted, my feet were frostbitten now, no longer a little sense. Now, she just wished a very small thing, it is to be back home, curled on the bed in the corner of the small old slept until morning to forget the hunger and the cold. But when thinking about the taunts, the whips spiraling of her father, she shivered with fear then hurried quickly on the streets.
đang được dịch, vui lòng đợi..
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